The Switch(24)
Author: Lynsay Sands

And had found it damned annoying. Every gleaming eye that was cast her way had made him clench his teeth in fury.

She wastoo good for them. Too good for them all. The thought of any of them having the right to take her to his bed, to touch her body, taste the sweetness he had experienced The very idea made him furious. Impossible. Never.

Over his dead body. He would marry her himself first.

Radcliffe went still. Marry her? His gaze slid over her in the royal blue gown, caressing the mounds of her br**sts, remembering the weight and feel of them in his hands. An ache started immediately in his groin, and he swallowed thickly.

If he married her he would have the right to feel them again And much more. He could have her in his bed every night. Face her across the table every morning She would be safe. More importantly, she would be his.

Then he thought of Charles and the odd reaction he’d had to the lad sometimes, and Radcliffe frowned. To marry the sister meant having to be around the brother a great deal. A prospect that made him extremely uncomfortable.

"I need your assistance, not your interference, Radcliffe."

He glanced down with a start to see that she had moved to stand directly in front of him, close enough for him to smell. Close enough for him to touch.

His heart rate picked up just at her nearness, his body responding with definite enthusiasm. Mayhap Charles would be interested in a Grand Tour. "I must speak to your brother."

Charlie’s eyes widened in shocked dismay at Radcliffe’s announcement.

She leapt forward, grabbing his arm in panic as he turned to exit the room. "Oh, nay.

Please, you mustn’t disturb Charles. You know he is unwell just now."

"Aye, and I promise I will not disturb him for any longer than I have to, but I must have a word with him."

"But he" Seeing the determination on his face, Charlie slid between him and the door, caught him by the ears, and dragged his head down to her own.

Radcliffe went stiff as a board as her lips mashed his. Realizing that her play was not working, she released his ears, slid her fingers into his hair, and eased her lips until they were rubbing and nibbling at his. She sensed his hesitation then and slid her tongue out to lick his lips, in what she hoped was a provocative manner.

Much to her relief it seemed to work. Giving in to temptation, Radcliffe slid his arms around her waist, his lips opening and his own tongue coming out to master hers. The result was shattering. They had been playing with fire too long, dancing with arousal then leaving it unfed too many times. Both of them went up in flames.

Continuing to kiss her, Radcliffe swept her up in his arms and carried her to the side of the bed. When he set her down again, Charlie found that someone had stolen her strength and her legs were shaking with her need. Breaking the kiss, he straightened suddenly, caught her at the waist, and turned heraway from him.

Then she felt his hands at her lacings, and she held her breath, releasing it with a sigh when the top of her gown loosened, then slid off her shoulders and down her arms to pool at her feet. Her chemise quickly followed, and before her n**ples could pucker defensively against the sudden chill of vulnerability, Radcliffe’s hands replaced the material, cupping her br**sts and pressing her back to lean against him.

"You are so lovely," he breathed into her ear, peering down her body from behind.

Charlie glanced down, seeing what he saw; smooth ivory skin and the curve of her br**sts held in his darker hands. It was an erotic sight, and she shuddered against him as he caught her n**ples between each thumb and forefinger to roll them teasingly.

Moaning, Charlie dropped her head back onto his shoulder as he kissed and nipped at her neck, then stiffened in his arms, quivering as he slid one hand down between her thighs. Gasping, she twisted her head abruptly, searching for and finding his lips and kissing him with a violence that startled her. But Radcliffe merely chuckled deep in his throat and tugged his lips away to shift her around to face him once more. Charlie immediately took that opportunity to push his dress coat and waistcoat off, then commenced with undoing his shirt buttons, kissing every inch of skin she could reach as it was exposed.

She had run out of shirt and started to work at his breeches when he caught her by the shoulders and pushed her back to sit on the bed. Following her, he kissed her feverishly, then trailed his lips to her ear, then down her throat to a spot between her br**sts. Catching her br**sts in his hands, he turned his head to kiss first one, then the other and continued his trail downward.

Swallowing, Charlie knotted her hands in his hair and clenched her stomach against the quivers that shot through her as he licked a path along it. Then she stilled, even her breathing seeming to halt as she felt his hands clasp her ankles and draw her legs further apart, then slide slowly, deliciously upward, over her calves, her knees, her thighs. Lifting his head, he caught her lips in another passionate kiss, then pulled away and kissed the inside of first one knee, then the other. A gasp tore from her throat and she nearly leapt off the bed when he then pressed a kiss to the very core of her, his tongue whipping out to tease the center of all her sensation, his teeth grazing her tender flesh.

Throwing her head back, Charlie released a high, piercing cry of need that died on a whimper as he gently inserted one finger inside, slowly stretching her.

"Oh God, oh God, please," she sobbed breathlessly, not even sure what she was begging for.

Radcliffe knew, however, and he continued his tender ministrations until she found it, the release she needed. It came with a thundering of blood in her ears, a rush of sensation, then Radcliffe was straightening before her, catching her beneath the knees to pull her to the edge of the bed. Clasping her buttocks in hand, he lifted her slightly and eased into her still shuddering body, groaning as she closed around his engorged flesh. Plunging forward, he took her innocence swiftly and painlessly as she pulled his head down and kissed him demandingly. Radcliffe kissed her back, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as he drove into her body.

It was the closing of the door that woke Charlie. Blinking sleepily, she peered at the empty bed beside her, then slowly sat up. Sunlight was peeking through the closed drapes. Radcliffe had slipped out while she slept. She was just wondering if she should be upset when she heard the knock at the door.

Glancing toward it, she frowned slightly, wondering why it sounded so faint, then realized it was because the knocking was not at that doorbut next door, in Charles’s room. She’d taken to leaving the interconnecting door open, in case of just such an occurrence. Sighing, she shoved the blankets aside, grabbed the wrap to cover her nak*dness, and stumbled wearily between the bedrooms. She covered a sleepy yawn, then paused in the center of Charles’s room, cleared her throat, and called out, "Who is it?"

"Lord Radcliffe. I know it is early, but I need to speak with you."

Charlie’s eyebrows rose at the almost hushed sound to his voice, but she sighed, "Fine. I shall be down directly."

"Nay. I would speak with you now."

She frowned at that, her gaze chopping to the robe she wore and the unbound br**sts pressing eagerly out from beneath it. "Now? Can it not wait until"

"Now."

Hearing the firmness in his voice, Charlie shifted irritably. "Just a moment then," she snapped, and began searching for the cloth to bind her br**sts.

Spotting it trailing toward the connecting door of the bedrooms, she grabbed it up, shrugged out of her robe, and began the binding.

"It is about your sister."

"What about her?" Charlie asked, wincing as she tightened the cloth around her br**sts. Good Lord, it was uncomfortable to be trussed up thusly. Had she really spent days strapped so? Amazing what women were forced to do to __ "I cannot speak of it through the door. May I come in?"

"No!" she cried, dragging her shirt on over the binding, then, realizing how sharp she had sounded, added more calmly, "I am not dressed. I shall let you in directly."

There was silence for a momentas she found and began to tug on her stockings, then his impatient voice came again. "It is quite important."

"Fine, fine. Just a moment." Tying her hair quickly, she stuffed the strands down her back, plopped the wig on top, and peered about for the knee breeches.

Spying them sticking out from beneath the bed, she hurried over and knelt to retrieve them.

Hearing the soft tread of someone moving up the stairs, Radcliffe stiffened and stepped toward the rail to peer down. Bessie was coming up, no doubt headed to awaken her mistress. He was just sighing in relief that he had left Elizabeth’s room ere the woman’s arrival and thus had avoided an embarrassing scene, when he realized that he was still wearing last night’s evening clothes. Panicking, he opened the door to Charles’s room and stepped inside, closing the door just as the maid reached the top of the landing.

"I am sorry, Bessie was coming and I" he began, only to pause and gape at the bare behind directed toward him. Charles was on his hands and knees at the side of the bed, apparently attempting to drag something out.

He was dressed only in stockings that reached to his thighs and a shirt that had risen up to reveal his derriere as he searched. And what a shapely derriere it was, Radcliffe noticed with dismay. Good God! It was almost an exact replica of Elizabeth’s. He supposed he should not be surprised at that. After all, they were twins. Then again, perhaps his shock was not so much at that as at the fact that his body was reacting to the sight of it in about the same way as it had reacted to the sight of Charles’s sister’s. So much for last night clearing up his sexual confusion.

Cursing, he turned around abruptly. It seemed to help little, however; the pink upside-down heart that was both Charles’s and Elizabeth’s derriere seemed etched on his brain.

Hearing his curse, Charlie straightened abruptly, knee breeches in hands as she glanced around to see Radcliffe standing with his back to her. Flushing with embarrassment despite the fact that he had seen every inch of her nude the night before, she leapt to her feet and began tugging on the breeches. "Dammit, Radcliffe, I did say to wait a moment."

"Yes, well, I er Bessie was coming up the hall," he explained lamely.

"So?" Charlie asked irritably, tucking her shirt into the breeches.

"So I did not wish her to see me like this."

She glanced at him curiously. "Why not? You look fine."

"These are the same clothes I was wearing last evening." Glancing over his shoulder, Radcliffe saw that the lad was dressed now and turned to face him.

"Which is part of the reason I wished to speak with you."

Charlie blinked at that. "You wished to speak with me because you are wearing last evening’s clothes still?"

"Nay," he snapped impatiently. "Because of the reason that I am still wearing last evening’s clothes."

Understanding struck Charlie then and she nearly smiled. This was what one might call the big confession scene. He thought to tell her that he had ruined her sister last night. Of course, he had really not ruined Beth at all, but her playing Beth. Well, she had not really been playing Beth last night, because Beth loved Tomas and so would not have slept with Radcliffe, so she supposed she had really been Charlie last night but Charlie the girl, not Charles the brother. Goodness, what a tangle things were getting into.

Radcliffe cleared his throat, drawing her attention again as he began to pace before her. "Charles, it has occurred to me that perhaps you would care to take a Grand Tour?"

When he quit his pacing to peer at her hopefully, she frowned with bewilderment.

"What has that to do with the fact that you have not changed your clothes?"

"Ahh yes well, you see I thought perhaps If we married, you see"

Charlie gaped at him. "Excuse me?"

"I said, I am going to marry your sister," he repeated grimly.

Charlie frowned at that, for she was absolutely positive that there had been no mention of marriage to her. Not to her as Elizabeth at least. Then the fact that Radcliffe did not exactly sound pleased at the notion struck her.

"Why?"

Radcliffe shifted uncomfortably. "Why?"

"Why do you wish to marry her?"

"I well last night we er"

"Last night you ‘ er"?" she repeated grimly, taking great offense at the description. "Er" seemed to reduce what had been a beautiful experience to a rather tawdry little episode. Fury raising in her, she snapped, "You ‘ er’d her?"

"I realize this is a poor showing on my part." "A poor showing?" she repeated, incredulous.

"I had offered the two of you my protection and I have behaved badly,"

Radcliffe continued as if Charlie had not interrupted. "I am terribly sorry for my slip, but" Frustration crossed his face. This was not at all the way he had meant for things to go. He didn’t even know why he had brought up last night except that it was looming large in his mind just now Along with the fact that he could repeat it should he marry Elizabeth. Good Lord! He realized with dismay that he was allowing his manly parts to make decisions now.

Nay, he collected himself at once. He was not marrying Elizabeth simply to bed her. And he had decided on marrying her ere bedding her. Last night merely meant that they would have to be married at once to avoid the possibility of having a child too soon after the wedding. Marrying quickly was a necessity anyway, thanks to Carland.

"You were saying?"

Radcliffe cleared his throat, then frowned.

"What was I saying?"

"You were sorry for your slip and ?"

"Oh." He frowned. "Well, really, that part was not very important."

"You ‘ er’d my sister and it is not important?"

Radcliffe eyed the lad warily. There was something rather threatening about his attitude. "It is important, of course," he tried to explain. "But it really has nothing to do with why I am prepared to many your sister."

"So, the fact that you ‘ er’d her is not important, but you wish to many her because?" The lad was waiting.