Not Just a Wallflower (A Season Of Secrets #2)(10)
Author: Carole Mortimer

Chapter Seven

Madness.

Absolute bloody madness!

For there could be no other reason why Justin gave every appearance of behaving like a besotted fool, enticing his ladylove with succulent titbits of fruit.

Justin considered himself to be neither besotted nor a fool, Eleanor Rosewood was most certainly not his ladylove—nor would she ever be—and the only enticing that had ever interested him, where any woman was concerned, took place between silken sheets—and it was fruit of the forbidden kind!

He looked into those emerald-green eyes just inches from his own and knew from the uncertainty, the slight panic he detected in their depths, that Eleanor’s casual dismissal just now was purely an act she had assumed for their audience. That the widening of her pupils, the bloom of colour in her cheeks, her slightly parted lips, and the barest movement of her br**sts as she breathed shallowly, were indicative of what she was really feeling.

And Justin had no trouble at all recognising that.

Arousal.

For all that she might express her resentment of him in the role he now held in her life as her guardian and protector, and despite her rebelling against any and all restrictions he might choose to place upon her actions, she could not hide the fact she also found him physically attractive, despite her stated aversion to ‘lust’ being the reason for her mother’s marriage to Frederick.

A knowledge that caused Justin’s lips to curl into a satisfied smile as he straightened. ‘Much better, Eleanor,’ he drawled as he discarded both the fork and pineapple on to his plate before turning to the three older ladies seated across from them. ‘I am endeavouring, at her request, to tutor Eleanor in how best to deter over-zealous gentlemen of the ton, without also offending them,’ he explained wryly as Lady Cicely and Lady Jocelyn, at least, continued to look upon him in obvious shock.

His grandmother’s expression was no less disapproving. ‘And in that you appear to have been successful. Unfortunately,’ she continued irritably, ‘your chosen method of doing so has now also succeeded in rousing the speculation of the ton regarding the Duke of Royston’s intentions towards his young ward!’

Justin gave a scornful laugh. ‘An occurrence which will likely render Eleanor popular with the gentlemen and unpopular with the ladies!’

‘It is not in the least amusing, Royston.’

‘Of course it is, Grandmama.’ He relaxed against the back of his chair. ‘How can it be anything else when we all know I have no romantic intentions whatsoever where Eleanor is concerned.’

‘I really must thank you for your most recent lesson, your Grace.’ Ellie had heard quite enough of ‘the Duke of Royston’s’ opinions for one evening. Arrogant, mocking, insufferable gentleman that he was!

Unfortunately, she also found him verbally challenging, dangerously handsome and physically exciting, to the extent that she suspected she might still be in love with him, despite previous private denials to the contrary.

Just to look at this man, to be in his company, to exchange verbal swords with him, still, in spite of her inner remonstrations with herself, caused her heart to beat faster, her breathing to falter and every nerve ending in her body to become thrillingly aware of everything about him. And Ellie knew she had almost succumbed to his dangerous allure as he had held that sliver of pineapple up in front of her so temptingly.

It had been so intimate an act, the noise and chatter about them seeming to disappear as the world narrowed down to just the two of them, and Ellie had found herself totally unable to look away from those piercing sapphire-blue eyes.

Much, she realised now, like a butterfly stuck on the end of a pin by its curious captor!

Certainly his next comment had shown that he had felt none of the physical awareness of her that she now had of him. Indeed, he had merely confirmed what she had suspected all along: that the arrogant Duke of Royston was merely being his usual insufferable self by teaching her another ‘lesson’.

‘If you will all excuse me, I believe I will go and tidy my appearance before the dancing recommences?’ She placed her napkin down upon the table before standing up.

Justin also rose politely to his feet. ‘I will accompany you.’

Ellie raised one mocking brow, in perfect imitation of the duke’s own haughty arrogance. ‘To the ladies’ retiring room, your Grace?’

Those chiselled lips twisted. ‘I will obviously wait outside in the hallway for you.’

Ellie frowned her irritation. ‘I am sure that is unnecessary—’

‘I beg to differ.’ His mouth tightened. ‘Unless you have a previous arrangement to meet with Braxton in one of the private rooms?’

She gasped. ‘Of course I have not!’

He straightened his shoulders. ‘Then I think it best that I accompany you to ensure he does not waylay you. Ladies.’ He gave a polite bow to the three older women seated opposite them before pointedly raising his arm for Ellie to take, leaving her no choice but to place her gloved hand upon that arm and walk along stiffly at his side as he coolly nodded acknowledgement of acquaintances as they made slow progress across the crowded, noisy room.

But that did not mean Ellie did not bristle inside with indignation, at his highhandedness, for the whole of that time!

She removed her hand from his arm the moment they were outside in the less crowded Great Hall. ‘How dare you! Who are you to embarrass me in front of other people, by questioning whether or not I might have behaved so scandalously as to have arranged to meet Lord Caulfield privately?’

Justin eyed her calmly, knowing himself to be once again in control—thankfully—of this situation. And himself. For he had not been as immune to Eleanor’s physical awareness of him just now, when he’d attempted to feed her the pineapple, as he had given the impression of being…

No, indeed, he had risen to the occasion in spite of himself and had been forced to remain seated at the table for several minutes longer than necessary in order to wait until the bulge in his breeches became less obvious.

Much to his increasing annoyance.

Eleanor Rosewood’s role as a protégée of his grandmother’s, and his own ward, now rendered her as being completely unsuited to ever becoming his mistress. Nor did she meet the stringent requirements of a prospective duchess. As such there was no place for her in his well-ordered life, other than the annoyance of being forced by circumstance into acting as her guardian. All was not lost, of course; any number of women here this evening could, and in the past had, assuaged his physical needs.

‘Who am I?’ Justin repeated in a suddenly steely voice. ‘I believe, for the moment at least, I am placed in the role of acting as your guardian and protector. Whether you feel you are in need of one or otherwise,’ he added as she parted her lips with the obvious intention of protesting. ‘As such, I have no intention of allowing you to embarrass me, or my grandmother, by behaving in an unsuitable manner through ignorance.’

Ellie eyed him hotly. ‘You truly are the most insufferable man I have ever met!’

‘So you have remarked before, I believe.’

‘Then I must believe it to be true!’

The duke gave a deliberately weary smile. ‘And I am fortunate in that I find your opinion of me to be of little interest.’

Just as Ellie knew she herself was of little interest to him either, other than as an appeasement to his grandmother’s plans for her, the dowager the only woman whom he so obviously did care about; Ellie had heard a definite coldness in his tone when she had mentioned his mother to him.

Unfortunately, she now had no choice but to curl her fingers painfully into the palms of her gloved hands, in order to prevent herself from giving in to the temptation she felt to slap that supercilious and arrogant smile from his perfect lips!

She drew in a deep and controlling breath. ‘Is it any wonder, then, that I have come to prefer the company of such polite gentlemen as the Earl of Braxton?’

Those blue eyes narrowed. ‘I should warn you that it would be unwise to challenge me, Eleanor.’

Ellie’s throat moved as she swallowed nervously, once again aware of the sudden tension that had sprung up between them, of how the very air that surrounded them now seemed charged with—with she knew not what.

The only thing she was sure of was the fluttering of excitement beneath her br**sts, of the dampness to her palms inside her lace gloves, of the burn of colour blooming in her cheeks as his eyes continued to glitter down at her.

She swallowed again before speaking. ‘I do not believe that is what I was doing.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ she said defiantly.

A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘I disagree.’

‘That is your prerogative, of course—what are you doing?’ she squeaked as the duke took a firm grasp of her arm before pulling her down the shadowed hallway, away from the crowded public salons, to where the private family rooms were situated. ‘Justin?’ she prompted sharply as he threw open the library door and pushed her unceremoniously inside the darkened room.

He followed her inside before closing the door firmly behind him. ‘Of all the times I have asked you to do so, you must choose now to decide to call me Justin?’ He towered over her in the darkness. ‘I do believe you are challenging me, after all, Eleanor,’ he murmured huskily.

It took Ellie several moments to adjust her eyes to the gloom of the library, at which time she realised it was not as dark as she had at first imagined, that the moonlight shone in brightly through the windows, giving his overlong-blond hair a silvery rather than golden sheen, his eyes glittering a much paler blue, the light and shadows giving his hard, chiselled face a darker, more dangerous sharpness, than it usually had.

Not that any of that was important, when placed alongside the scandal that would ensue if anyone were to discover them alone together in the darkness of the library! ‘We should not be in here, your Grace.’

‘Yes, you are most certainly challenging me, Eleanor,’ he remarked in reproof. ‘Did no one ever warn you that it is dangerous to wake the sleeping tiger?’

‘You are likening yourself to a tiger?’ she asked incredulously.

‘Now I believe you are mocking me.’

He took a deliberate step forwards, causing Ellie to take a step backwards, only to find she could go no further as she came up against the closed door. Her eyes widened in alarm as she watched him place a hand flat against the door either side of her face, at once holding her captive between that door at her back and the hardness of his body just inches in front of her own.

Too few inches. Indeed, Justin stood so close to her now that she could feel the heat of his body through the thin silk of her gown, felt surrounded by the clean male smell of him as much as his impressive height and breadth. Her senses began to swim as she scented the sharp tang of his cologne, her br**sts suddenly feeling fuller, firmer, the tips tingling with an almost painful ache, an inexplicable dampness between her thighs, the whole experience making her legs feel weak.

As clear evidence that she did indeed love this man…

The warmth of his breath brushed softly, sweetly, against her temple as he bent his head closer to her own before murmuring, ‘Little girls who deliberately wake the tiger deserve to be…punished, just a little, do you not think?’

Ellie quivered in awareness, felt as if his close proximity had sucked all the air from the room, her head beginning to whirl as she tried to breathe, and failed. ‘Please…!’ she gasped at the same time as she lifted her hands to his chest with the intention of pushing him away, of allowing her to draw in a breath. Only to find she had no strength left to do so, that instead of pushing him away her hands lingered, as if with a will of their own, her fingers splaying almost caressingly against the heat of his broad chest.

‘Please what, Eleanor?’

‘I—’ She moistened lips that had become suddenly dry. ‘I should go…’

‘You should, yes.’ He nodded slowly as he moved even closer, so that the silk of her gown and his own clothing were all that now separated them. ‘The question is, are you going to do so?’

She looked up at him searchingly, the shadows cast by the moonlight making it impossible for her to read the expression on the male face only inches above her own. Even so, she could see enough to know the duke’s expression was one of hard determination and not the tender softness of a lover. ‘I believe you are playing another game with me, your Grace,’ she accused.

‘Am I?’

‘Yes!’

‘Does this feel like a game to you, Eleanor?’ He shifted slightly, allowing the length of his body to press against her much softer one, allowing her to feel the swollen hardness bulging in his breeches, which now pulsed insistently against the soft swell of her abdomen.

She raised startled lids; she might be young, and both naïve and as inexperienced as this man had called her earlier, but she was not so ignorant that she did not know what that throbbing hardness pressed against her meant.

As she had told him earlier today, her stepfather had kept a fine stable at the country house where Ellie had spent much of the ten years of Frederick’s marriage to her mother, and she knew exactly what took place when the stallion was brought to the mare for breeding. And that impressive hardness, which had risen up between Justin’s thighs, was the same as had been between the stallion’s back legs when he had caught the scent of the mare in season.

Had he smelled her arousal and in turn had become aroused by her? she wondered.

* * *

If Justin had thought his behaviour earlier was madness, then this had to be insanity.

Complete insanity!

Not only should he not be here alone in a darkened room with Eleanor, but he should certainly have kept his distance from her, and definitely not given in to the temptation to feel her slender curves so soft and sensuous against his much harder ones.