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He carefully stepped over the silk undergarments scattered upon the floor as he silently crossed the bedchamber to stand behind her. ‘Pandora—what have you done?’ he prompted sharply as she gave a gasp at the same time as she swiftly drew back her gloved hand from arranging the things on the dressing table.
‘A sliver of glass just pierced my finger.’ Pandora kept her face averted as she now held her injured hand against her breasts, fully aware that it was the realisation of Rupert’s close proximity which had startled her, as much as the sudden pain of the glass entering her finger.
The more so, because until that moment, having been preoccupied in her own thoughts concerning all the events of this evening, she had been totally unaware of his disturbing presence standing so close behind her …
‘Let me see.’
Pandora’s back stiffened instinctively as he took a firm hold of her bare shoulders before turning her to face him, that golden head now bent as he took a gentle hold of her injured hand with the obvious intention of inspecting the damage.
‘As there is blood oozing all over your glove you’ll need to remove it,’ he advised gruffly.
Pandora, having been staring, mesmerized, at that bent golden head, now gave a startled glance down at her hand, surprised to see there was indeed blood seeping through the lace. ‘Oh, dear!’ She freed her hand to peel the glove down her arm before carefully removing it. ‘It doesn’t look so bad …’ There appeared to be only the smallest of puncture wounds in the soft pad of her index finger.
‘Let me see.’ The Duke once again took a firm grasp of her hand, frowning darkly as he looked down intently at the blood still oozing from the wound. ‘Is the glass still inside?’
‘I don’t think so, no.’ Pandora was no longer bothered quite so much by the shock of the accident as she was by having Rupert cradling her hand in his much larger one. Her breath hitched in her throat, her senses alert to every nuance of the touch of those long, slender fingers that so gently cupped her own.
‘Perhaps it would be as well if I …’ He did not finish his sentence as he raised her hand to his parted lips to take her injured finger into the moist heat of his mouth.
‘What are you doing?’ Pandora gasped at the intimacy of such an action, the cut to her finger completely forgotten as she felt the moist lap of his tongue against her flesh before he began to suck upon it gently. ‘Rupert!’ she exclaimed, her breathing becoming shallow.
Long golden lashes rose until that glittering silver gaze met and held hers even as he continued his tender ministrations.
Pandora ceased to breathe at all, totally ensnared, both by those mesmerising eyes gazing so deeply into her own, and the shocking intimacy of feeling what he was doing to her finger. It felt so … sensuous, forbidden and of such intimacy that she was helplessly aware of her breasts swelling beneath her gown, the tips hardening, and causing an aching warmth between her thighs. She felt herself totally unable to find the strength to look away from the perfectly chiselled lips around her finger.
It was, at one and the same time, the most caring, and yet erotically charged, moment of her life, that gentle suckling of her flesh causing the tips of her breasts to tingle, as if the softness of Rupert’s lips were touching her there rather than her finger. The heat increased inside her core, dampening the delicacy of her folds and making her press her trembling thighs together in a vain attempt to suppress it.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ There was a shocked gasp from across the bedchamber as Henley entered the room without warning. ‘I had no idea! I would not have— I believed his Grace to have already left …’ She trailed off awkwardly.
Rupert ignored the flustered lady’s maid as he moved so that his body shielded Pandora from the other woman’s curiosity. His fingers tightened as she would have instantly snatched her hand away, his silver gaze brooding as he continued to look down into her now-stricken one as he slowly sucked upon her injured finger once more, twice, before releasing that digit from his mouth with a soft popping noise, the whole length of that tiny finger now moist from his ministrations. ‘I don’t think there’s any glass still embedded in your finger,’ he rasped.
Her cheeks were flushed, her breasts softly rising and falling in her agitation. ‘Release me,’ she hissed softly when her attempts to pull her hand from within the strength of his proved fruitless.
Rupert’s lips curved into a mocking smile even as he placed those same lips one last time upon her injured finger before releasing her. ‘My nanny was a great believer in kissing a hurt better as a healing method.’
Kissing a hurt better?
Pandora now ached in parts of her body she had not known could ache! But not in an unpleasant way. No, what she now felt, in her breasts and between her thighs, was all too pleasurable …
Chapter Seven (#ulink_2d18cfbf-9bc9-5aa7-bb8d-95731f062a60)
Pandora swallowed to ease the dryness in her throat before answering him waspishly. ‘In that case, I believe I must be completely cured, your Grace!’ She shot him a censorious glare before turning to look across the bedchamber at her maid. ‘What is it, Henley?’
That poor lady looked completely undone by this added stress upon her already frayed nerves. ‘I came to help—that is, I thought to—Perhaps I should come back later …?’ Henley shot Rupert a nervous glance.
‘I—’
‘Do that,’ the Duke cut in haughtily.
Pandora scowled at him before answering her maid. ‘That won’t be necessary, Henley. His Grace was just leaving,’ she added pointedly.
Rupert raised lazily arrogant brows. ‘I don’t believe our present … conversation is over just yet, Pandora.’
A blush heated her cheeks, whether with embarrassment or anger she was unsure. ‘Oh, I think we’ve said all that needs to be said on the subject for one evening, your Grace.’
‘Indeed?’ he drawled.
‘Indeed.’ Her mouth firmed. ‘Henley, perhaps you would care to show his Grace out?’
‘I—’
‘I shall see myself out, thank you, Pandora.’ The ice now literally dripped from his voice.
Then do so—now! Pandora wished to say. She knew it was ungrateful of her to feel that way. Rupert had been kindness itself to her since they had entered the house and found the whole of her household in uproar. Well … perhaps he had not been merely kind to her for all of that time—as the tingling of her breasts and thighs still testified!
‘When—and if,’ the Duke continued inexorably, ‘I deem it necessary.’
When and if he deemed it necessary that he leave? He was unbelievably arrogant!
As far as she was concerned it would have been better by far if he had left some time ago! ‘Leave us, would you, Henley?’ She made the request gently, even as her flashing gaze was fixed immovably upon the arrogant idiot in front of her.
‘Yes, your Grace.’ Henley bobbed a curtsy. ‘Of course, your Grace. Would you like me to—’
‘For heaven’s sake, just go, will you?’ Rupert instructed. ‘How on earth do you stand that woman’s presence about you every day?’ he demanded the moment Henley had closed the door of the bedchamber behind her. ‘I’m sure I should be driven to madness by her nervous twitchings and hesitations!’
‘Then it’s as well you don’t have to suffer them any further,’ Pandora returned tersely. ‘And how dare you give her the impression that you and I … Imply that you and I— I believe you should leave now!’ She eyed him in utter frustration.
‘So I ascertained some minutes ago.’ He nodded unconcernedly.
‘Well?’ Pandora prompted some tense seconds later as he still gave no indication of leaving.
He raised those arrogant brows as he looked down at her with cool grey eyes. ‘There was something of import I had intended to discuss with you this evening.’
Pandora stiffened warily. ‘Oh?’
Rupert smiled ruefully as he saw that wariness. ‘Obviously, the situation we found upon our return here has deemed that now is not the right time for us to have that discussion.’
‘Obviously.’
His smile widened at the dryness of her tone. ‘In which case I will return here tomorrow and we shall have our conversation then.’
Pandora tapped a foot in exasperation. ‘You know, Rupert, you might find my mood to be far more accommodating if you were to ask rather than use such arrogant phrases as “I had intended” and “I will”!’
‘Touché.’ Rupert smiled as she turned his earlier comment back upon him. Proving her sharp intelligence once again, but also that she was not in the least the ordinary type of woman of his acquaintance, who gushed and fawned over the Duke of Stratton.
Just as the physical evidence of Pandora’s response to him a few minutes ago—a flush to her cheeks, the swelling of her breasts, the unevenness of her breathing—proved that neither was she immune to the physical intimacy fast developing between the two of them …
But would Pandora’s physical awareness of him make what Rupert wished to say to her more, or less, acceptable?
Their conversation tomorrow would, he hoped, provide him with an answer to that question.
‘Do sit down, Pandora, and tell me all that has happened to you since we last met,’ Genevieve Forster encouraged avidly the moment the two of them were left alone in that lady’s private parlour the following afternoon. ‘And don’t attempt to claim that nothing has happened, because several of my visitors this morning could talk of nothing else but your visit to the theatre yesterday evening in the company of Devil Stirling!’ The reproving frown she gave Pandora was obviously on account of her not having informed Genevieve of it herself.
Devil Stirling …
Pandora had come to realise how well that name suited Rupert! He might have the golden looks of a fallen angel, but he was indeed a devil and one who enjoyed nothing more than tormenting her.
Or tempting her …?
Pandora was suffused with heat every time she so much as thought about those few moments of intimacy between them in her bedchamber the evening before. Although why she should feel so hot and bothered, just having Rupert Stirling kiss her finger, was beyond her comprehension. Which was one of the reasons she had called upon her friend today, in the hope that Genevieve, hopefully more understanding of such things, would be able to explain this strangeness of feelings to her.
She sat forwards in the chair to take the cup of tea Genevieve had just poured for her. ‘The Earl and Countess of Heyborough were also there. In fact, I was their guest for the evening, not Rupert Stirling’s.’
Genevieve raised russet brows. ‘But at Stratton’s urging, no doubt?’
Pandora felt the blush in her cheeks. ‘I believe he did prompt his aunt into making the invitation, yes …’
‘Well, of course he did! And?’
‘And the opera was particularly tedious—’
‘I have no interest in hearing about the opera, Pandora!’ her friend admonished ruefully. ‘But I do want to know everything else,’ she added eagerly. ‘Such as how you came to be so well acquainted with Devil Stirling in the first place that he prompted his aunt into inviting you to the opera. And, more to the point, what happened after he drove you home at the end of the evening!’ Genevieve’s blue eyes twinkled merrily.
The warmth increased in Pandora’s cheeks, her pulse leaping, just thinking about the rasp of Rupert’s tongue stroking against her injured finger, of his sucking that finger into the heated moisture of his mouth, of the way his devilish silver eyes had held her gaze captive as he did so … It was an act so stirringly intimate that for some minutes Pandora had completely forgotten the surrounding disarray of her bedchamber.
She moistened her lips before speaking. ‘We met on the terrace the evening of Sophia’s ball. Quite by chance,’ Pandora added hastily; she had preferred not to confide in Genevieve and Sophia that an unknown person, or persons, had broken into her home several times this past year and she did not now intend to recount to Genevieve the details of Lord Sugdon’s unpleasant attentions towards her the evening of Sophia’s ball, either. Pandora deeply appreciated the friendship Genevieve and Sophia had given her this past month and she wasn’t going to bother either of those ladies with the less acceptable details of her life. ‘Talking of which … have you seen or spoken to Sophia since that evening?’
Genevieve’s curls gleamed deeply red as she shook her head. ‘Both of you have left me quite bereft of your company this past two days. Why?’ Her interest quickened. ‘Has something happened to her, too, which I should know about?’
It would perhaps be indiscreet of Pandora to mention the comments she had overheard the evening of the ball indicating Dante Carfax’s long-term interest in Sophia. ‘I merely wondered if she had been pleased with the success of her ball,’ she said lightly.
‘And I believe you are merely trying to distract my attention from telling me of this new friendship of yours with Devil Stirling.’ Genevieve pouted prettily.
‘Not at all,’ Pandora assured with a soft laugh. ‘Indeed, I am as surprised by that gentleman’s … attentions towards me, as you appear to be.’
‘I don’t see why. You are beautiful, and charming—’
‘And surrounded by such scandal that most gentlemen tend to give me a wide berth in company and attempt to bed me in private!’
Genevieve gave an indelicate snort. ‘That particular gentleman is no stranger to scandal himself!’
‘Well … no.’ Pandora frowned slightly at mention of Rupert’s less-than-pristine reputation even before he began living so openly with his stepmother. A relationship he had seemed to completely disregard in Pandora’s bedchamber the evening before! ‘But it is not the same for a gentleman as it is for a lady.’
‘Nothing in life ever is.’ Genevieve grimaced.
Pandora eyed her curiously. ‘You’ve not told me of your own progress in taking a lover.’
‘Because there is nothing to tell as yet.’ Genevieve looked deeply aggrieved by the fact. ‘Now for heaven’s sake, cease your delaying, Pandora, and tell me all!’
Pandora didn’t tell her friend quite all of her acquaintance with Rupert, preferring to omit the reason for their initial conversation, as well as those moments of intimacy in her bedchamber. But she did relate everything else to the eagerly listening Genevieve.
That lady’s blue eyes were wide with excitement by the time Pandora had finished her tale. ‘And have the two of you had chance to speak again today?’
‘Not as yet, no.’ But Pandora knew that Rupert had called this morning, whilst she was out at the shops, leaving his card and promising to return this afternoon. Which was the very reason Pandora had chosen to pay a visit to Genevieve. Although she seriously doubted she would be able to avoid him for ever. ‘What do you think it can be that he wishes to discuss with me?’
‘Can you not guess?’ Genevieve’s eyes glowed with mischief.
During the hours since Pandora had last seen Rupert Stirling she had taken several guesses as to what the subject of that conversation might be—each of them more fantastic than the first!—which was why she had sought counsel of one of her friends.
‘He is going to ask you to be his mistress, of course!’ Genevieve announced excitedly.
Exactly the conclusion Pandora had come to.
‘Would not such a request make his bed a little overcrowded, when there is already another lady occupying it?’ she reminded Genevieve sharply.
‘That is just too, too wicked, Pandora!’ Genevieve laughed gaily at what she obviously took to be Pandora’s dry humour. ‘Obviously he has finally tired of Patricia Stirling and now seeks to replace her with you.’
‘How flattering!’ Pandora’s scathing tone showed that she meant exactly the opposite.
‘But is this not exactly what we discussed previously, Pandora?’ her friend cajoled. ‘For each of us to take an exciting lover, or lovers, before this tedious Season comes to an end?’
Yes, that was certainly what Genevieve had proposed, Pandora recalled all too clearly. A daring and scandalous suggestion, which Pandora had preferred not to answer directly at the time. She had since realised that Sophia had not seemed particularly enthused about it, either.
She stood up restlessly. ‘That doesn’t mean I would ever choose Rupert Stirling to be that lover.’
‘Why on earth not?’ Genevieve looked up at her incredulously. ‘He has the looks of a Greek god. A fallen angel. A veritable—’
‘Devil in disguise—and it is a thin disguise at that!’ Pandora put in firmly.
‘Did I hear someone mention my name?’
Pandora spun around so quickly at the sound of Rupert’s amused voice that she felt quite dizzy. Even more so as she looked upon his handsome ‘fallen angel’ face as he stood slightly behind Genevieve’s obviously disconcerted butler. Her heart seemed to cease beating as she took in his impeccable appearance in a superfine of charcoal grey fitting perfectly to his wide shoulders, beneath which he wore a pale-grey waistcoat over pristine white linen, with black pantaloons moulding to his long and muscular legs.
Rupert Stirling’s tailor must weep with joy at how finely this gentleman wore his clothes, whereas Pandora found herself barely able to breathe at his sudden disturbing appearance in the doorway to Genevieve’s parlour!
Rupert’s earlier feelings of frustration with Pandora at her continued and surely deliberate elusiveness, receded slightly as he enjoyed the shocked expression on her face.
Having called at her home this morning, and then again this afternoon, and both times been informed that ‘her Grace is not at home’, Rupert had lost no time in ascertaining exactly where her Grace had gone to this afternoon. Noting how disconcerted Pandora was by his unexpected appearance here, he couldn’t help but feel a certain sly sense of satisfaction!
‘His Grace, the Duke of Stratton,’ the butler announced with obvious apology to the mistress of the house for not having managed to inform her of the identity of the visitor before he had appeared in her parlour.
But that had been deliberately manipulated by Rupert; after chasing around after Pandora for most of the day, he hadn’t wanted to give her the opportunity of escaping him yet again—for instance, by trying to leave the house by another route than the front door.
Having a woman avoid his company, in the marked way Pandora had today, was a new experience for Rupert altogether; usually he was the one who had to avoid the company of women whom he had no wish to see or speak to.
‘Stratton.’ Genevieve Forster had now risen to her feet in order to effect a graceful curtsy, that elegance of movement accompanied by a mischievous twinkle in her deep-blue eyes as she gave a glance in the direction of the obviously still-stunned Pandora.
Rupert handed his hat and cane to the butler before striding into the small, intimate parlour in which the two ladies had chosen to sit and converse. ‘Your servant, ma’am.’ He bent solicitously over the hand the Duchess of Woollerton extended to him. ‘And Pandora,’ he added deliberately as he turned to look down the length of his nose at her.
