Tempted By Collection

‘No. It was really that good. You made me forget all the bad stuff.’ She gave him a watery smile.

‘My reputation remains intact.’ He lay back, hands behind his head, his ego as satisfied as the rest of him.

‘Definitely. I guess it all caught up with me for a moment.’ She turned her face away from him as though she was embarrassed she’d let him see her cry.

Nate turned on his side and pulled her close. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed when lesser mortals would have struggled long before now. Still, he didn’t want to draw any more attention to her tears when she was uncomfortable about it.

‘In that case it’s my duty to keep you occupied—body and soul. I do believe it’s your turn to go on top.’ He rolled over, taking Violet with him so she could feel as though she was back in control for a while.

He’d spent a long time imagining this time with her and he didn’t want anything to spoil it for either of them. They’d already shared the lows of today, they were entitled to enjoy a few highs too. Tomorrow they’d have to face all of those same problems keeping them tied to the estate, but tonight was still theirs.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE RIGOROUS BEDROOM workout might have taken Violet’s mind off everything except what Nate was doing to her body, but it hadn’t helped her sleep any easier. She sat up watching his broad chest rise and fall in peaceful slumber as the sun rose.

He had a body made to help a girl forget—those perfect pecs, lickable abs, and...damn she needed him gone. Lying here naked together wasn’t going to help matters one iota. Bedding him once had been exciting, eye-opening, leaving her curiosity and body satiated, but ringing the bell for round two was only asking for trouble. It had been easier to tell herself this would be a one-off before she’d known how good they were together.

This wasn’t her usual casual affair where no feelings above the waist came into play. Never mind he was involved in everything going on between her and her father, now he’d seen her cry, for goodness’ sake. She never cried, not in front of anyone, and certainly not during sex. It was a wonder he hadn’t bolted out of the door at the sight of the first tear. In fact, it was kind of disturbing he hadn’t. If this was purely sex, why was he still here?

Nate rolled over, the sheet falling lower to display that sexy ‘V’ of his torso leading to the danger zone. She dragged her eyes away with more discipline than she’d known she possessed. Good sex was like any other addiction—hard to resist when it could make your troubles fade away so easily and leave you feeling invincible. It was the side effects you had to watch out for. Emotional attachment had a way of sneaking into temporary ‘fixes’.

She sneaked another peek at Sleeping Beauty, who was definitely beginning to stir beneath the covers. There was absolutely no chance of going cold turkey when she was going to be exposed to said addictive substance every day here. Only the sound of the front door opening stopped her from falling off the wagon before she’d even got on it and taking one last hit of that Nate Taylor good stuff.

‘Cooee!’ It was closely followed by the morning call of the lesser-spotted housekeeper.

Violet had forgotten the Taylors had more than one set of keys between them. They always rose with the larks to start their duties and let themselves in so as not to disturb the Earl before he was ready to wake. Apparently those same rules didn’t apply to her. She wasn’t used to having to answer to anyone except herself these days.

‘It’s only me!’ Mrs Taylor called again, louder this time, as though she was getting closer.

There’d be no way of passing this off as anything casual if Nate’s mother caught them in bed. They’d never hear the end of it. Although her father had begun to warm towards Nate, if he found out about this all hell would break loose.

‘Wake up!’ she whispered and shook her bed partner awake.

‘Hmm?’ His eyes fluttered open with a moan that almost made her care less about getting busted. Almost.

She scrabbled around the floor for her discarded clothes and hastily threw them on. She might think more clearly if she wasn’t naked. Or lying next to Nate’s impressive morning glory.

‘Your mother’s here.’

That woke him up and killed his libido quicker than a bucket of ice-cold water.

‘What?’ He bounced up, wide-eyed now and with that same look of panic he’d had when she’d once caught him skinny dipping in the lake. Unfortunately Violet hadn’t had as clear a view of his assets then as she did now as he hopped around the room trying to get dressed.

‘Violet? I wanted to make sure everything was all right. Have you seen Nathaniel this morning? I see his car’s still parked outside—’ Mrs Taylor voiced her concerns from somewhere on the stairs.

Nate muttered all the expletives running through Violet’s head at the same time. The first rule of secret liaisons was to be discreet. History should have told them privacy wasn’t an option around here.

‘How the hell are we going to get out of this one?’ He jammed his feet into his shoes, the muscles in his back flexing with tension. He’d always been a completely different person when he was around his parents than when he was with her. In this case his frustration was most likely directed at himself and her for letting this happen.

‘I’ve got an idea. Stay here.’

He was so straight-shooting he might well stomp out and announce what they’d done to shock his mother and get her to back off. Violet didn’t want them making this into a big deal simply because they’d been interrupted.

She stepped out of the room before he could grab her and tiptoed to the top of the stairs. ‘Hello, Mrs Taylor. Nate stayed over in the west wing last night. It was late when we got back from the hospital and he’d left his car here. I thought it would be better for him to stay than drive home when he was so exhausted. I’ll give him a call and perhaps you could make us something to eat in the meantime?’ She hated using her position here to suit her agenda, the lies made her sick to the stomach, but in this instance she deemed them necessary, for everybody’s sake.

‘Of course, dear.’ Mrs Taylor beamed, no doubt thrilled at the idea of resuming her duties to the family in the Earl’s absence. Violet couldn’t imagine one without the other any more, nor did she want to. The Taylors were part of Strachmore and would hopefully take the reins when she was no longer here.

Violet waited until Mrs Taylor scurried off towards the kitchen before she turned back. Nate was fully dressed now and standing by the door with a scowl to sour the milk his mother was probably pouring on their cornflakes. She suddenly found the need to justify her actions. After all, this was his family she was bossing about.

‘I thought it would buy us some time.’

‘Sure. There’s nothing Mum loves more than playing the faithful servant. I guess I’ll see you downstairs for breakfast in five.’

It was her turn to be dismissed and she didn’t enjoy it one bit. The fairy tale was well and truly over and now they were back to that upstairs-downstairs divide that had always dominated their lives.

Nate doubted there was anything more cringeworthy than a post-coital breakfast with an ex and your mother. When had his life got so messy? Oh, yes, the second Violet Dempsey had walked back into it wearing skin-tight jeans and a worried smile.

‘I’m so glad things went to plan with your father at the hospital. I hardly slept a wink last night.’

Nate declined a second cup of tea. He’d only agreed to this charade so his mother’s suspicion was kept to a minimum and he wouldn’t be expected to pay penance for defiling the Earl’s daughter.

‘Neither did I, Mrs Taylor.’ Violet’s reply was innocent enough for his mother’s ears. To his, it was a reference to something definitely inappropriate for the breakfast table. Something that was now reminding him of everything they’d done last night instead of sleeping, in all its X-rated glory.

‘Speaking of which, I’m going to have to nip home and change before I go into work and check on him.’ He drained the last of his tea and took a big enough bite of toast to reassure his mother he’d eaten. Her fussing wasn’t confined solely to the Dempseys’ welfare but he didn’t have to pay for the privilege.

It hadn’t sat well with him when Violet had requested she make breakfast for them. Deep down he knew it had been a ploy to save their blushes, but it had succeeded in also reminding him of his place too in the scheme of things. Although he still couldn’t quite believe they’d finally slept together, he wouldn’t let his ego get too inflated. He was always going to be the son of the hired help, no matter how big his pay packet.

‘Thanks for everything you did last night.’ This time he knew she was deliberately trying to make mischief as she fixed him with those ever-darkening sapphire eyes.

She pursed her lips together to blow the steam from her china cup and Nate’s mind immediately connected her actions to scenes of a sexual nature. He jumped up from the table, lucky it was only his knee banging against the table in the process.

‘You’re welcome. Any time.’ They hadn’t discussed what happened next with regard to this new development in their relationship, but something told him it was going to take a great deal of willpower to prevent it happening again. That something was going to require a long cold shower to get rid of.

At least she hadn’t seen him off to work with a packed lunch and a kiss in that we’ve-slept-together-so-let’s-set-the-wedding-date fashion some were fond of after one night in bed. He’d met enough of those to recognise the hope of commitment even with a promise of none. He should be happy Violet didn’t have it, not lingering on his Dempsey-induced inferiority complex. It left the bedroom door open for another casual hook-up with no expectations beyond those four walls. If she was agreeable, continuing the more physical side of their relationship for the time she had left at Strachmore could be the ideal way to work out their residual issues and finally get closure.

Today’s status update: Lover.

It had all but killed Violet sitting so close to Nate this morning, pretending they hadn’t spent the entire night getting to know each other more intimately than ever before. While they’d swapped their private thoughts and feelings in their younger days, it was nothing compared to what they’d shared together in bed. Sex with Nate had been the only positive experience she’d had since coming home, and the most fun.

She didn’t know what new discoveries she’d make regarding her father from one day to the next but so far they’d all taken an emotional toll. Her time with Nate had been cathartic, a chance to wind down and remember how it was to be a young, carefree woman. She could do with more of that. More of him.

His mother’s interruption this morning had prevented them from analysing their actions and discussing where they went from here. With her body still zinging from their tryst, she hoped he was on the same page she was as far as letting this thing run its course. The only commitment she’d intended making was to her job back in London with a phone call today.

Although her father’s altered attitude was a revelation, she’d discovered for herself it hadn’t made him Dad of the Year overnight. His old, grouchy self was very much alive and kicking when she’d been to see him this morning. She’d left him talking to the rehabilitation team and come back to make a start on making Strachmore accessible to the public in the hope he’d agree to give the idea a chance. The first step was a deep clean of the areas she thought might appeal to history buffs. Mrs Taylor ensured the main house was spick and span but it had been some time since anyone had paid any attention to the old servant quarters.

This part of the house where her ancestors had housed their domestic staff had always intrigued her and she’d used it as a hiding place at times, safe in the knowledge her parents would never venture there. The major flaw in the architecture here was the lack of ventilation. She stripped off the denim shirt she’d found in her closet so she was cooler in her strappy white singlet as she worked, moving from room to room with her duster and mop.

It was like being in a time warp once you set foot on those stone steps. The period pieces of furniture and personal effects left from days gone by were still in good condition under their thick layer of dust. From the huge wooden table in the servant hall where the staff would’ve congregated for their meals, to the sparsely furnished bedrooms, they’d all played an important part in Strachmore’s history.

She was cleaning down the worktops in the room where the butler used to polish the household’s shoes and boots when she thought she heard footsteps. The idea of seeing past residents had never frightened her, but she held her breath as the steps grew closer and louder.

‘Thank goodness, it’s you.’ She let out a relieved sigh when Nate stepped into view, but her heart didn’t beat any slower. He was the quintessential gentleman today, again dressed in his dapper charcoal-grey fitted waistcoat and trousers. Although, she preferred him wearing only a sheet. Or not.

‘Everyone seems so happy to see me today. It makes a change. Even your father managed to be civil.’ He joined her in the small space, stealing more of her oxygen.

She bustled away to the farthest side of the room to clean the sink so she could breathe again. ‘You saw my father?’

‘I did. I can’t lie and say trying to discuss treatment was a fertile exercise, but he has agreed to see a grief counsellor.’ He skirted around the leather-covered bench in the centre of the room to come towards her.

She scrubbed the sink a little harder and tried to avoid his gaze. Her morning had been productive but less than glamorous. If she was to convince him another tumble in the sheets was a good idea she wasn’t going to do it covered in dirt and sweat.

‘That’s great. I really appreciate you doing that for him. It will help him move on.’ And her, if they could start some dialogue over what had happened to her mother without blaming each other.

‘I really do think he’s beginning to soften, though, and it shouldn’t be too long before you can persuade him about the benefits of Project Wedding Venue.’ He slipped his hands around her waist and made her drop her scrubbing brush.

Was he simply more tactile because he was celebrating their future liberation from Strachmore, or making a move? She wasn’t sure if her now supercharged libido was interpreting his actions to suit her needs.

‘I...uh...can’t wait. That’s partly why I’m down here. I thought if we got this cleaned up we could do house tours to break us in gently.’

‘You are rocking this domestic goddess thing you’ve got going on.’

Her mouth was dry now and it wasn’t down to the dusty atmosphere. He was nuzzling her neck, holding her tight and giving her the unmistakable sign now that he was interested in picking up from where they’d left off last night. Every step she took with Nate, as much as she wanted it, was also a test of her courage. It was a step further from her comfort zone, and one closer to keeping her here.

‘There’s so much to do to get the place ready. The paint’s peeling everywhere, it’ll all need to be redone. Then there’s the structural repairs if we don’t want to be sued by people getting hit by pieces of loose masonry.’ All things that could be remedied easily but suddenly seemed so important to excuse her current state.

‘Don’t worry—I’ll help. We’ll all chip in when and where we can while we’re waiting for approval from up above.’ He spun her around to face him and she forgot why she cared so much about her appearance when he so clearly appreciated it.

He was kissing her neck, grazing her earlobe with his teeth and generally turning her into a puddle of hormones.

‘I didn’t think I’d see you today. I thought you’d be busy with work.’ She was sure he’d be able to feel her pulse throbbing violently beneath his lips.

‘I’ve no patients scheduled for the next few hours. I thought we could take the time to discuss our new arrangement.’ He dropped a feather-light kiss on her lips.

‘What’s that?’ Violet was burning so hot for him all these wooden fixtures and fittings were becoming a serious fire hazard, but she wasn’t going to be the one to make the rules. After the way things had ended the last time between them she wanted this to be his call.

‘We had such a good time last night, I don’t see any reason to keep us from doing it again. I’d go as far to say we should do it every night before you leave.’

Before you leave. They were the crucial words she wanted to hear. That way there was no room for misunderstandings when her time here was done.

‘Every night, huh?’

‘Maybe every day too if we feel the need.’ He would definitely have the need for her in his arms, night and day, now he’d established a clear time frame. His commitment would end the minute she was on a flight back to London and that was an even bigger aphrodisiac than seeing Violet get her hands dirty.

He’d spent the morning flitting between arousal and annoyance every time he’d thought about last night and this morning. So much so he’d been in danger of becoming distracted. For the sake of his patients, and his sanity, he’d needed to come and see her here. He hadn’t known what action he should take regarding their tryst, whether it was better to draw a line under it or repeat it. One look at Violet had made it a no-brainer. Literally. That wasn’t the part of his body doing his thinking any more.

‘It might make my time here more bearable, I suppose...’ She was teasing him now. He could see through that flimsy shirt she was as turned on as he was.

‘I think I’ll make that my new tagline on my business cards. Dr Nathaniel Taylor—making life more bearable for over thirty years.’ He hadn’t come here with sex on his mind, only a desire to see her, but the time limit they’d just set meant he didn’t want to waste any more time talking.

He planted his lips on Violet’s with an urgency he’d never felt with anyone but her. It was an all-consuming need to be part of her, have her be part of him, which he could indulge now he knew there’d be no consequences or regret.

They were a flurry of hands and clothes as they tore at each other’s clothes. The waistcoat had been a spur-of-the-moment decision this morning, one he was now cursing for its many, many buttons.

‘Sod it.’ He tore it open, the damnable buttons pinging around the room in the process.

‘Shouldn’t it be my clothes you’re tearing off?’ Violet helped him undo those of his shirt in double-quick time so he was topless, and halfway to where he wanted to be.

‘Don’t worry, you’re next.’ He whipped off her shirt in one swift move to find she’d gone commando, her perky breasts greeting him without restraint.

Violet writhed beneath him as he buried his head in her cleavage, revelling in her softness. She was opening his belt, unzipping his fly and letting his trousers pool around his feet. When she gripped his erection in her surprisingly strong hand he had to grab hold of the bench behind him before the instant rush of blood from his head caused him to black out. When she knelt and took him in her mouth there were fireworks in the darkness behind his eyelids.

With her hands gripping his hips, his hands pulling her hair, she took him to the edge of oblivion and back time and time again.

‘Come here.’ He urged her up beside him to make this afternoon delight last longer than he was currently anticipating. She kicked off her own jeans and underwear and pressed her naked form against his fevered flesh.

‘You know, we’re not the first people to make out in here. Rumour has it this was the favourite spot for one of the most notorious butlers who worked here. He had a reputation for seducing the kitchen maids and he carved his initials wherever he made his conquests. They’re all over the house. See?’ She traced her finger over a set of initials scratched into the leather-covered bench.

He could see where this was going. ‘You got a penknife on you?’

‘There’s an old kitchen knife on the window sill.’

He hurriedly carved a crude NT into the wooden cabinets on the wall. ‘Now we’re making history too.’

‘There? Really?’

He pulled her over beside him. ‘Well, the randy butler’s already claimed the bench and we’ve done the furniture thing already...’

As much fun as it was marking his territory, he wanted to finish what they’d started. He braced himself against the cupboard doors, caging Violet against the cupboards. His beautiful sex monkey hooked herself around him, permitting their bodies to forge together with ease.

They were so in tune with each other she met his every thrust, kept pace with him until they reached that glorious peak together. Their combined cries of ecstasy were loud enough to wake the dead and Nate was glad they were far enough from the main house to be heard. He didn’t often get carried away in such a fashion where anyone, including his mother, could catch him in flagrante. His reputation was his livelihood but when he was with Violet nothing else seemed to matter. A dangerous game to play in real life but thankfully this was nothing more than a holiday fling, giving them the excuse to take a walk on the wild side for a week or two.

Once they got their breath back and their clothes back on, Violet returned to the scene of the crime to inspect the graffiti.

‘He must’ve had a lot of fun during his time here. I’ve seen these initials in the wine cellar, the laundry room and the stone archway at the back of the house.’ She studied the carving, lost in thought, as though she somehow envied the freedom of a paid servant.

Nate didn’t want her to relate this moment between them to feelings of regret when that was the very thing they were trying to avoid.

‘I reckon we could give the horny butler a run for his money. Let’s set ourselves a challenge to reclaim every nook and cranny where he’s made his mark with one of our own. It shouldn’t be Strachmore subordinates only who get to have all the fun. I think it’s time the lady of the house got to play too.’

This became more like an illicit romance between servant and mistress with every clandestine meeting in the big house. He could live with that as long as they kept treating this as an exciting fling with a definite deadline. There was no better way to do that than to make love in every room of the house, erasing every bad memory associated with the place in the process. It was therapy on an enjoyable level for both parties, ensuring they chased the pain away with lots of pleasure. A way of closing out the past and opening up their hearts for the future. One that couldn’t include each other.

CHAPTER EIGHT

VIOLET DIDN’T KNOW much about BH but he’d certainly been a busy boy and NT had been doing his best to rival him. Of course, they’d been discreet in recording their exploits for posterity, careful not to vandalise valuable historical artefacts, and they’d had fun along the way. In all, these last two weeks exploring, and supposedly renovating, the forgotten rooms at Strachmore had been some of the best days of her life.

Her father was growing stronger every day, thanks to his work with the physiotherapists and Mrs Taylor’s close attention to his diet. Violet had made it clear she’d be returning to her job at the end of the month and that had been sufficient to prompt him into sitting down with her and Nate to discuss the ideas they had to make the estate self-sufficient. He’d eventually agreed in principle to their suggestions and put his signature to the required paperwork for now.