Page 85 of Tempting the Earl

The rather deep tone of his voice struck an intimate chord within Ainsworth. As Caillie skipped off toward the kitchen, she met the earl’s quiet gaze and nearly melted at his feet.

Oh, good heavens!

The man definitely did not have brambleberry tart on his mind. And as she began to imagine what she suspected he was thinking, a soft sound slipped breathlessly from her lips.

Light flared in his eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted. It looked as though he wished to say something but then realized with a swift glance to the side that they still stood in the middle of the entry hall where any number of servants could come upon them.

“Would you object to having another pair of hands in the kitchen?”

Ainsworth had to take a deep breath to slow her racing heart and ease the flush that crept along her skin. “Not at all, my lord.” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “I shall welcome your hands verra happily.”

His eyes narrowed as another flare of heat engulfed the blue. And it took all her will to keep herself upright as her knees turned to water.

But then he did what she never would have expected.

Completely ignoring the risk of being seen or overheard, he stepped close and bent his head beside hers to whisper in a rich and wonderfully sensual voice, “You’ll have more than my hands before this day is through.”

She sighed with her whole body. “Is that a promise?”

He didn’t reply as he stepped back and gestured for her to precede him to the kitchen, but his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

The next couple hours somehow managed to distract Ainsworth from the earl’s words as the three of them went about making an absolute mess in the kitchen. The earl had been earnest in his offer to help, but as expected, the man had no idea what he was doing. This triggered a rather relentless volley of teasing from Caillie, which evolved into giggles and grins as the earl forged ahead despite his inexperience.

It was unsettling, to say the least, to observe the prim and proper gentleman standing at the kitchen’s large worktable with discarded coat, rolled-up sleeves, and flour dusting his hands and waistcoat. She saw him smile more in those couple hours than she had in all the days prior. He even laughed a few times. A short, slightly rough sound that still managed to warm her blood.

Caillie, however, didn’t seem terribly surprised by this relaxed and playful version of the earl. It was clear they were both coming to care very much for each other and it made Ainsworth happy to see their relationship developing so effortlessly.

Just a couple weeks ago she wouldn’t have been able to say that. But the earl’s dedication to his young sister’s welfare was unquestionable. Ainsworth had no doubt he’d do everything in his power to ensure Caillie’s happiness and future success in spite of any social judgement. Between Lord Wright and Mr. Bentley—and Ainsworth suspected Mr. Thomas would soon prove his own loyalties—her lass would never be without a champion and protector.

By the time the tart was finished, it was nearly time for the earl’s kitchen staff to start prepping for the evening meal. Ainsworth would have set the treat aside to enjoy after supper but Caillie managed to convince them they all deserved to enjoy the fruits of their labors immediately.

To make way for the chef and his helpers, who were very obviously shocked by the earl’s disheveled state and his unprecedented presence in their domain, they took the tart, three plates, and three forks with them up to the breakfast room.

Ainsworth happened to glance up at the earl as he took his first bite. The slow, deliberate slide of the fork between his lips and the quiet intensity in his gaze sparked an immediate response. The unleashed beast hidden inside him was crouched and ready, patiently awaiting his opportunity. She was instantly reminded of his earlier promise.

Losh! Who’d have thought a man with such a stern manner and refined deportment would prove to be so relentlessly, unabashedly sensual? And who’d have ever expected her to be fortunate enough to reap such pleasurable benefits from that wild, unfettered side of him?

After thoroughly enjoying the tart, Ainsworth insisted Caillie head upstairs to wash up and rest a bit before supper. Having gotten so little sleep the night before, Ainsworth was looking forward to a good soak and a short nap herself. But as soon as she had the thought, she recalled why she’d had such a late night.

With those erotic thoughts filling her head, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing to the earl as they all left the breakfast room. She should have known he’d be looking back at her. In truth, it was exactly what she’d hoped she’d get: another sensual shot from his fiery blue stare and a delicious twisting in her low belly. Another silent commitment to his promise to finish what they’d been unable to properly start that morning.

Bluidy hell, tonight couldn’t come swiftly enough.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Ainsworth slid lower in the oversized tub until her head slipped below the surface of the scented water. Luxurious heat surrounded her. The bath was wonderfully soothing, but it did nothing to ease the aching inside her. If anything, the silky heat and sensual scents only increased her desire. Her limbs were languid and heavy while a deep and lovely hunger twisted and turned in her core.

How in hell would she make it through dinner?

She needed Colin now. Needed his kiss. His touch.

Coming up for air, she kept her eyes closed as she rested her head back on the rim of the tub. She could hear the crackle of the fire in the grate and feel the wafting warmth of the flames, but the greatest heat was inside her.

Squeezing her legs together and tensing her inner muscles, she experienced a very brief moment of relief. But it intensified her discomfort rather than easing it. Needing something more, she slipped her hand past her belly to press her fingers against her heated flesh. The pressure was lovely but still not enough. Feeling bold and oddly desperate, she parted her legs just a bit and slid her middle finger along the seam of her sex until she reached the sensitive bud of her clitoris. In tentative, exploring movements, she circled and caressed until her legs grew tense and her teeth caught at her bottom lip.

The same feelings she’d experienced with the earl were rising inside her, but slower and less intensely. She wanted the intensity. She craved it.

Water sloshed against the walls of the tub as she moved her hand more swiftly, chasing the pleasure that seemed just out of reach. Lifting her other hand to her breast, she arched her back and squeezed the softness as she tried to imagine it was the earl touching her there and that it was his tongue rather than her fingers delving between her slick folds. The thought sent a sharp arc of pleasure through her and his name slipped from her lips before she could stop it.

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