Page 13 of A Kiss Of Lies

For the first time in almost twelve months, Christian awoke refreshed, largely due to a night of pleasanter dreams than his normal hellish nightmares. Images of Sarah’s soft curves stretched out beside him, above him, and under him had filled his dreams.

He’d awoken to thoughts of her, and he’d pleasured himself with dreams of Sarah riding erotically above him, her soft voice emitting passion-filled cries of pleasure, as her tight sheath milked him . . .

He flexed his shoulder, hardly noticing its stiffness, as he pulled on his jacket. He felt invigorated this morning. Over the coming weeks he looked forward to making his dreams become a reality. Never since his body had been burned had he seen a woman look at him with admiration. He couldn’t get the image of her blatant regard for him out of his head.

As he descended to the breakfast room, he felt an emotion close to happiness, which made his feet tread lightly on the stairs.

However, his seduction of Lily’s new governess had to wait a while. Christian had many errands to accomplish before they set sail the next day. He wanted to make certain that the manager he’d employed to run the Canadian arm of the Pearson-Markham Trading Company was introduced appropriately throughout York and the rest of Canada as Markham’s new man, ensuring that the supply contracts would be honored. Christian had no intention of returning to Canada, ever.

So it wasn’t until he had sent an invitation requesting that Mrs. Cooper join him for the evening meal that Christian took a moment to think through the implications of seducing Sarah.

Though Sarah was young, the fact that she was a widow meant that she was not innocent. What husband wouldn’t have had a body like hers in his bed every night?

But was he selfish enough to risk Lily’s happiness and stability over a woman he scarcely knew? What if he tired of her—or, more likely, she met a better prospect than he? Any man of his standing, any gentleman with money, would welcome the delectable Mrs. Cooper into his bed.

Wouldn’t she want a man who was not a burned husk?

How could he compete? Her beauty would be enough to send his fellow Libertine Scholars into a competitive frenzy for her favors. Prior to the war, he’d have rated his chances of winning her against such stiff rivalry as high, but now . . .

He relaxed the fingers clutching the stem of his wineglass lest he snap it like a twig.

What if she left? What would Mrs. Cooper’s leaving his employ do to Lily? He tugged at his cravat. Deep down inside, guilt ate at his soul. He wanted her as his mistress, and by God, he’d have her. He deserved some happiness.

What did that make him?

Selfish?

No! Human.

He had no idea what sort of reception he’d get when he reached English shores. Grayson was watching over his holdings. The Duke of Barforte was determined to see Christian ruined, but in order to effect this ruination, any action Barforte might take would be barely on this side of legal.

Mrs. Cooper was just the distraction he needed. She was a luscious body to turn to in the night, a refuge to sink into with her abundant charms, and an opportunity to forget, for a short while, all his troubles.

She was the precise balm he needed to comfort him while he righted the wrongs perpetrated against him. He remembered, among other things, the soothing quality of her voice while she crooned a lullaby to him last night. As in the tales of mermaids luring men to their doom, her sereneness and compassion seemed to him like a life ring thrown to a drowning man.

And when it came to holding the nightmares at bay, he would take the panacea of seduction and comfort she offered.

While he was focusing on a particular diversion he would love Mrs. Cooper to perform on him, she entered the room. Given his mind’s sensual wanderings, he could barely stand, and he was quite glad that the candelabra hid his groin from view.

“Thank you for the kind invitation, my lord, but isn’t it a tad unusual for me to join you at the table?” Her words were spoken with a soft earnestness but no hint of annoyance. “A governess must know her place.”

He motioned for her to take a seat, not at the opposite end of the table from him, but at the place set beside him, on his left—his good side.

The vanity of men!

Taking his seat after her, he said, “I must apologize if my invitation makes you uncomfortable. Once we set sail tomorrow, Lily, you, and I will be the only people on board other than the crew. It will be a long voyage if we cannot converse with each other.” He gave a wry smile. “Besides, I’m not a great one for following society’s rules, and tonight, Mrs. Cooper, I’m in need of intelligent conversation.” He poured her a glass of wine before adding, “You did say yesterday in your interview, quite forcefully, that you had a fine mind. Were you taking liberty with the truth, madam?”

Her chin firmed, and her lovely blue eyes met his. “No, my lord, that was not a lie.”

“Please, call me Christian. On board ship there is no reason why we cannot use our given names.” He didn’t give her a chance to protest. “You don’t appear to be wearing your glasses this evening, Sarah.” She stared at him with mouth open.

Her eyes flashed to deep midnight blue. “I don’t need them for anything but reading.” She added in a haughty voice, “It would have been polite to ask if I minded before addressing me by my given name.”

He tried to keep the humor from resonating in his voice. “But you don’t, do you?”

Her mouth widened into a stunning smile that took his breath away. “I don’t think it would matter to you if I did.”

It was a surprising response. Almost as if she was flirting with him. The blood heated in his veins. He regarded her with a critical masculine eye, trying to divorce himself from his body’s raging response to her femininity. Though she looked barely in her twenties, she had already been married. She was obviously experienced when it came to men—and experienced in parleying with them. He’d also seen little indication of servility in her behavior; in fact, he perceived almost an inbred arrogance, as if her intelligence gave her rights above her station. And her well-bred accent was unmistakably not that of a menial.

---