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Such was the way of things.
Even Uncle Alfred would not defend her: “I’ve tried to reason with the chap, but he won’t have you now. He’s planning to offer for that damned American glue heiress instead. You could have been acountess, Lottie. I won’t indulge in your silly notions any longer.”
Those “silly notions” had been waiting for a love match. For what was the use of having her own fortune if she couldn’t even do that? “Uncle, you can’t have expected me to marry Ceril—”
“Ceril Belvedere isexactlythe kind of man you should marry.” Before she could illuminate him on the finer details of whatexactlythat meant, he plowed ahead. “I made a terrible mistake in allowing your mother to marry whomever she wanted, and look what happened toher.”
This accusation had rendered her speechless.
Lottie’s father was the only son of a wildly successful Scottish tool manufacturer. Not a blue blood by any means, but John Carlisle was well educated and ambitious. He had met Lottie’s mother, Ada, while she was admiring the June roses in Regent’s Park and later described it as “love at first bloom.” Though tongues had wagged over the parvenu groom, the Carlisles enjoyed an unusually happy marriage, until they died in an all-too-ordinary carriage crash in Richmond.
Lottie’s eyes prickled. “That was anaccident,” she said thickly.
“And it will not happen to you,” he vowed. Uncle Alfred was always absolute in his opinions, but she had never seen this nonsensical side of him before. “I can only assume that a case of nerves has led you to behave so irrationally,” he continued. “You need rest. Take a trip somewhere and prepare yourself. Because jilt or no, youwillbe married by the end of next season. Even if it’s not anyone of quality.”
Lottie could only imagine the type of man who would offer for her now: a moldering aristocrat desperate for funds or some politician Uncle Alfred needed to manipulate. Or worse. It was then she understood that she could never bargain with him again. And it was then that she first began to form her plan. But though it had been fairly easy to create the illusion she was ruined, making it true was another matter entirely. There were benefits she had not considered. At least, not until Alec turned up on her doorstep…
At some point in the night, hours after he left, Alec returned. Lottie heard him stumble around the darkened room before he came to the edge of the bed and watched her in the shadowy darkness to make sure she was asleep.
“Lottie,” he murmured, loud enough to get her attention but soft enough not to wake.
She bit down on her lip. This was a trap. She wanted so badly to answer him, to pull him down on top of her, to have one rough palm spread her wide and take what she gave, but not now. Eventually, he sat down on the other side of the bed. Then came the sound of boots dropping on the floor. Alec let out a weary sigh as he laid down on top of the covers. A man in control would have been able to share her bed without reservations, while a man determined not to lose control would have slept in the chair.
But Alec seemed torn. And when he finally let his guard down, there would be Lottie waiting to be ruined.
It had taken hours before Alec rebuilt his will to the point where he could enter their room. And yet, as soon as he stepped inside, it promptly crumbled to bits. The very air was filled with her scent of rosewater and warm skin. But after days of too little sleep, that bed was enticing as hell even without the presence of Lottie. He only needed a few uninterrupted hours of rest. Then he would fully regain his control.Andhis reason.
That night his sleep was mercifully dark and dreamless.
Until it wasn’t.
In the waking hours the rules governing polite society and his remaining shreds of self-control separated them. But here, in the deepest recesses of his subconscious, Alec was free to do as he wished, as hedesired. Here Lottie wanted him.
And only him.
Alec approached her from behind and slipped his arms around her waist. He buried his nose in her loose hair and inhaled deeply as he pulled her body against his own. On the terrace their layers of clothing had kept them apart, but now only a slip of gauzy silk came between them. He smoothed a palm slowly down to her hip, then drew her round, ripe bottom against his aroused flesh.
He could feel everything—her soft gasp, the warmth of her skin, every beat of her thudding heart.
“Are you frightened?” he whispered, letting his lips graze the soft shell of her ear.
She let out a short laugh. “A little.”
Alec’s mouth curved. “I’ll be so gentle, my love.”
Lottie raised an arm and stroked his hair, just as she had done yesterday. “I know. I trust you.”
The words tore at his heart, as painful as they were pleasurable. He had done nothing to earn her trust, but he would take it all the same. Then she pressed back against him and Alec nearly lost his mind as the shock of pleasure radiated through his starved body. He rolled his hips, reveling in the feel of her soft flesh cupping his swelling erection. It had been so long.Toolong. But he had been waiting this whole time. Waiting for her without even realizing it.
He moved his hand away from her waist and skimmed his fingers along the curve of her small but shapely breast. Then he began to gently pluck her nipple with his thumb and forefinger. She drew in a long, ragged breath.
“Do you like that?” he murmured.
She laughed again, but it was shorter and more breathless this time. “I suspect I’ll like anything you do.”
His response was little more than a desperate grunt. Alec slid his hand down her side. The silky gown slipped between his fingers as he drew up the hem. Then he brushed ever so lightly against her sex. Lottie moaned her encouragement and her fingers curled tighter in his hair, tugging at his scalp. He pressed harder, working that most sensitive spot. Of course, because this was a dream she was already shuddering toward her release. But his dreams had never been so detailed before. He could feel her slickness, could practically taste the salt of her skin.
And yet, he needed more. He needed everything.
