“So…I am to greet Rothschild as if we are the closest of siblings,” she repeated, “and discuss my heretofore unknown antiquity with feigned knowledge, and then?”
“Then we will spend the evening listening to Rothschild enlighten us about your collection while pretending that we knew everything he is saying prior to him saying it. The other esteemed gentlemen will weigh in with their thoughts and eventually one of them will have the poor manners to yawn, freeing us to retire.”
Sophie wriggled seductively. “And then?”
“Minx.”
“Will you be mine then?”
“I have always been yours.”
“You will make me cry,” she sniffled.
“No.” His smile was wicked. “I will make you limp with pleasure. Then I will make you my wife.”
Chapter Ten
Justin slouched before the fire in his bedchamber with a brandy-filled goblet in one hand and George’s head nuzzled in the other. He watched the blue flames in the grate and thought of Sophie, so dazzlingly beautiful in the gown he had wheedled out of the modiste. It had cost him a bloody fortune to convince the woman that the garment would receive more attention on Sophie than it would on the woman for whom it was originally made. But he would gladly pay the amount a hundred times over to have the same result.
The countess and his mother had wanted something sensational, and he would like to think he had managed to accomplish that.
The soft knock he waited for finally came. Leaping to his feet, he startled the dogs and spilled his libation as he set it hastily on a table as he rushed past. Justin threw open the door and his heart clenched.
“Sophie.”
She said nothing, but words weren’t necessary. Her dazzling smile was enough. He looked quickly to the left and right, to be certain she was not seen, then he caught her hand and pulled her into his bedchamber.
He locked the door and shooed the dogs into the sitting room. When he turned back, he found her waiting where he had left her. With great, joyful strides Justin caught her up and lifted her high. She set her hands on his shoulders and threw her head back, laughing as he spun them about.
“I began to despair,” he said, setting her on her feet so that he could pull her into his embrace. “I thought perhaps I would not see you until morning, a delay I would find unbearable.”
Sophie’s eyes gazed luminously up into his. “As if I could stay away,” she whispered. “I was near desperate to be alone with you all evening.”
“Well then, I forgive you for making me wait,” he said magnanimously, making her smile.
“I love you, you arrogant man.” Cupping his nape, she pulled his head down to steal a kiss.
For a moment, he allowed her the lead, then the scent of her skin and the feel of her body inflamed him. Her soft mouth was parted and moving feverishly against his.
Breathing hard, he somehow managed to wrench his head away. “Will you consent to marry me now?”
“How can you ask questions at a time such as this?” she complained. “We have been apart for weeks on end.”
“I’ve learned extortion has its uses. My title, which usually lures women in droves, is a deterrent to you. But you seem to enjoy my body well enough. If I have to withhold it from you to gain your acceptance, I will do it. Much as it will pain me.”
The soft glaze of lust in her eyes turned to rich amusement. “I still cannot collect how you extorted that performance out of Rothschild this evening.”
He grinned. “What do you think of that?”
“I think my influence is already corrupting you.” She cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand. “Was he telling the truth?”
“About the value of the antiquities bequeathed to you? Yes. Rothschild has been using them to guarantee his markers, which are not inconsiderable.”
“All that excitement displayed over that little statue…Incredible!”
“Quite. Adventurers such as Belzoni have fueled the great interest in such things, fortunately for us. Your collection, while small, is priceless.” It took some clever maneuvering on his mother’s part to lure both lauded experts in the field and members of the peerage who were avidly engaged in the topic to his estate in Northamptonshire on such short notice. But somehow the task was managed, resulting in a dinner party that would not be forgotten for some time. “You are now an eccentric collector of some means, which grants you a bit more license.”
“And my once barren social calendar has become filled with numerous invitations to display the rest of my private collection.”
“Once word spreads, you will scarcely be able to keep up. As long as those items can be seen only through you and not a museum, you shall be in some demand.”
She shook her head. “How did you learn of Rothschild’s deception?”
“I have my ways.”
“My darling.” Sophie lifted to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his chin. “How will I ever do you justice?”
“Never mind that nonsense. Simply say yes.” He rocked his hips suggestively against her. “I have something you want and I am quite desperate to give it to you.”
Her laughter was music to his ears. “Yes, you wicked man. Yes!”
Sophie rubbed her breasts into his chest, brushing his lapels open so that only the material of her bodice and chemise separated her nipples from his skin. The brazen advance undid him, bringing to life fantasies he had cherished in his youth and again as a man. She gazed up at him seductively beneath long, thick lashes. “Now, will you take me to your bed?”
He growled and lifted her, taking the few steps necessary to reach the nearest wall so he could pin her roughly against it. She gasped softly at the impact, her arms at her sides, her hands pressed palms down against the damask.
“The bed is too far away,” he said gruffly, shrugging out of his robe.
“Dear God,” she breathed when he stood naked before her.
He stroked himself, lengthening and thickening his cock, watching her pupils dilate with a similar desire to the one that raged within him.
Impassioned, he caged her between his arms, his mouth at her throat, his teeth nipping the sensitive skin. “Pull up your gown.”
He felt her swallow hard beneath his lips. “Here?”
“Yes, here. I want to lick you, Sophie love,” he purred, his hands moving all over her, rediscovering all the curves and valleys of her body. “I want to put my mouth on you, eat at you, kiss you between your legs-” he took her mouth with lush, deep flicks of his tongue-“just like this.”
“Yes.” Her head fell to the side, baring her throat to him. He felt her hands between them, pulling up her skirts. Her movements brushed against his cock, and his jaw tensed. His gut cramped tight, lust warring with deeper, more powerful emotions.
He reached down and cupped her, parted her, finding her cunt slick and hot and soft as satin. He tested her with a gently probing finger, the feel of her grasping tissues pushing him beyond any hope of restraint.
“Bloody hell.” Sinking to his knees, he lunged for the pulsing flesh between her legs and covered it with his open mouth.
Sophie jerked violently at the shocking sensation of a lover’s kiss in her most intimate place. Her senses were overwhelmed with the sight and smell of him, her heart racing at the boldness of his actions. The growling sounds he made as his tongue flickered desperately over the clenching opening of her sex made her knees weak. He held her upright and draped her leg over his shoulder, giving her the support she needed to bear the exquisite torment while opening her further to his relentless demands.
Her fingers dug into the wall. The sounds of the ticking clock and her labored exhales were muted by the blood roaring in her ears. She looked down, watching the way the fire reflected in the golden strands of Justin’s hair. He held her open with his fingers, nuzzling his parted lips against her, worshiping her with reverent kisses. The sight of her gown held to her waist and the beautifully built man on his knees before her was deeply, searingly erotic.