Page 6

Present Day

LADY ASTRID. NEVER HAD he been so wrong about a person.

Michael couldn’t believe the cards fate was dealing him.

It was Christmas. It was supposed to be a nice relaxing house party with the dowager duchess of Whitewood hosting.

If he had known that she was going to be here, he might have sent a different RSVP.

But here he was, day one of what was supposed to be a calm house party, on a walk with all the houseguests.

There was no snow glistening on the ground.

Everything was an unusual green shade for this time of year.

And brown. Copious amounts of brown littered his view.

It was still nice to breathe the fresh air and be out in nature.

But as he breathed the crisp air, he could feel the matchmaking tentacles of Mavis, the Maven.

Yes, even he had heard the rumors. He couldn’t remember the source, though it had probably come from his sister, Hali. She would know. The Maven was now her mother-in-law, and may have played a part in Hali and Giles’ match.

It was a pity that Hali was on an extended honeymoon with her husband, but if anyone deserved it, she did.

In a roundabout way, Michael himself had a hand in his sister’s recent marriage.

He had sent the note to Giles requesting that he watch out for Hali in his absence.

He couldn’t, however, say he had expected the circuitous route they took to get together.

And when Hali started to share with him the details, he had to stop her.

There were some things he didn’t want to know about his innocent little sister.

Even though he couldn’t be there to protect her himself, he was responsible for her. And it was a responsibility he wouldn’t botch. He had failed one sibling before, with fatal results. He wouldn’t fail again.

Agitation crawled across his skin. He disdained thoughts on his failures, especially that one.

He held his more recent failure in contempt as well.

He glanced over at the woman he once thought to be a perfect angel.

Astrid. His heart leaped at the sight of her.

She was too beautiful to be so wanton, alas, wasn’t that the truth?

A person could only have so many favorable qualities.

Astrid was laughing at something. That oversized mouth of hers was beckoning to him. He loathed how drawn he was to her.

So when the dowager duchess beckoned him, he was not in his usual degree of aloofness. He was far, far colder. But in the worst way, much, much hotter.

“Duke, be a dear and walk with Astrid. She’s far too often in the company of her brother.”

Far too often in the company of her brother? If that were true, the incident and its ensuing failure wouldn’t have happened. She hadn’t intended it, but the dowager’s words stirred a bubbling cauldron of angst in him.

And though he tried to remain calm, he couldn’t hide the bite in his words. “I think she would be less inclined to her impulses were she to spend more time under his care.”

“Duke,” Mavis chided with a cluck of her tongue.

The other guests avoided his eyes. He knew it was beyond the pale to say such a thing in public, and when he met Astrid’s saucy smirk, he was grounded in pity.

He didn’t want her pity. He just wanted her absence.

So he eluded the Maven’s matchmaking madness by securing a walking partner for himself.

He was going to do everything in his power to stay far away from Astrid.

He had done a fairly good job of avoiding the vixen for the last couple of years.

There had been a couple of occasions where he had sat beside her at a dinner, danced close to her at a ball.

There had even been one occasion where he couldn’t excuse himself from flipping her music sheets while she played the pianoforte.

But no matter how intoxicating her verbena scent was, no matter how deep her ocean blue eyes were, and no matter how sultry her curves fit her dress of choice, he abstained.

Because that’s all she was. A siren. He was only too fortunate to have learned of her seductive ways before he had made a complete ass of himself by proposing.

Imagine that he had once thought her guileless. She was a troublemaker. As if his thoughts had been read by Isaac, he heard her brother’s voice. With a wide grin on his face, and one arm around his sister, he asked, “You want her?”

“She’s all yours,” Michael responded with as little venom as he could muster. No one knew of his contempt toward her. He had managed to keep that on lockdown. There was no use in stirring up rumors, as her reputation had already suffered enough since that event.

The troublemaker. That’s what she was though, and she had brought it upon herself. Even now, she grabbed her brother’s hat and ran off into the woods.

Childish.

Michael watched as three adults, one by one, ran into the woods.

Astrid. Isaac. Hope. A twinge plucked at his heart.

Uninterested in what that meant, he turned his attention to something the dowager duchess was discussing.

He overheard something about the orphanage’s needs, but he couldn’t make out what she said.

Not being one to eavesdrop, he didn’t try too hard to decipher its meaning. The Ashbournes did an admirable job running the orphanage and protecting those children. Perhaps he would ask later and make a donation to their worthy cause.

For now, he would enjoy the snowless, talkless, Astrid-less walk.

Much to his disappointment, he only enjoyed those -less es for a few brief hours.

He managed to avoid Astrid all evening. Her and her devil red gown with another low neckline, revealing far too much.

Didn’t Isaac have a care for his sister?

Not that Michael was the paragon for sibling care.

That neckline though…every time he caught her laughing with her head thrown back, he was sure a nipple was about to pop out.

The tightening in his gut increased all evening until finally he could bid his hostess goodnight.

Needing to have Astrid firmly out of sight, he was finally on his way to bed.

With his head down he climbed the stairs and marched to his room.

The pesky memory of that kiss with her in the dark had nearly been eradicated from his mind, (well, his daydreams not his nightly one), but being in such close quarters with her was making it hard to breathe. He was stifled. And stiff.

With a hardening cock, he flung open his door.

And who should be there, but Astrid.

She was standing in the middle of the room, her hands running down her nightrail. Pulling the nearly transparent fabric tight against her curves. Her breasts. Her hips. Her bottom. His lips instantly remembered the feel of her, and his hands were restless as his sides.

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t give her time to answer. As he closed the door, he asked, “Haven’t you done enough already?”

“Excuse me?”

It was too little and far too late, but the adrenaline coursing through him was taking logic for a ride. “We had our moment. It was a mistake.”

She glared at him.

He might have thought she would cover up. Act ashamed for coming to his room at this hour to seduce him. Again. But no, she rolled her shoulders back and stalked toward him.

“It was most certainly a mistake. Perhaps the most significant of my life. I don’t see it affecting you too greatly though.”

He scoffed. She couldn’t know how the erroneously innocent memory plagued him.

She didn’t know that his lips had yearned for a taste of her every day for months following that first kiss.

There was no possible way for her to understand how long it had taken him to extract her from his woolgathering thoughts.

And it was inconceivable that she could even have an inkling as to how many times he had woken up hard as granite after a torturous night of dreams about her.

But he wouldn’t say any of that. Now that he knew who she was, a wanton woman, he was not interested.

“It has cost me, though admittedly not the way it has cost you.” He almost felt the sadness he detected in her eyes, but then he remembered that it was her actions that had triggered the scandal. “You only did this to yourself, Astrid,” he muttered.

“You are not the judge of me, Michael. You don’t get to enforce punishment on me for my actions.”

They were so close together, he was breathing her air. He was agitated with her. And at the intense tightening in his gut. And the swelling between his thighs. He wanted her. Desperately.

Impulse took over his body, boxing logic out of it. “Maybe I should be.”

“What?”

“Maybe I should be. You have been a bad girl, Astrid.” His hand gripped her waist. Her supple curves. He wanted to sink his teeth into her.

“I-I—”

“Just answer one question. How bad have you been?” The temperature in his body was hot enough to boil an egg. His heart was hammering his chest. She was wanton. Eager for the physical. The sensual. And he could show her so much more.

He almost choked on the words he had been desperate to ask her, “Do you need me to spank you?”

He watched the flush creep up her neck. He was wild.

Out of his mind. At first he thought it had been rage.

But now he could feel the sexual frustration.

His body wanted her, even though he couldn’t have her.

But she had come to his room wanting something, so he would give her something she would never forget. Unless she said no.

A breathless, “Yes,” crossed her lips.

Without a second thought, he pulled her close and sunk into the chair. He laid her across his lap. His arousal now hard as steel. Whipping up her nightrail, he shuddered when he saw her creamy bottom shining up at him.

Gently, he placed his hand on her cheek and rubbed a few circles. Then, SMACK.

She let out a small cry. “Michael!”

His hand covered the redness and smoothed it out while she moaned.

“Have you learned your lesson, Astrid?”

“No.”

Shock swept through him and he could feel his sack tightening.

“This is for your behavior tonight.”

SMACK!

Before he could rub his hand over the sting, she bolted up and grabbed him by the shirt. Her lips were on his, and his hands were caressing her under her nightrail.

She moaned his name and he devoured her mouth. He shouldn’t be doing this. She was wicked. Wanton. Wayward.

Everything he resented in a woman. He had been led astray in his youth by beauty. Had his heart broken and never wanted to have anything to do with a seductress again. He wanted an innocent, guileless woman. That’s what he wanted to want. So how could he also so desperately want Astrid?

But her tongue in his mouth was filling a need he didn’t know he had. Her.

His cock was straining against the fabric, yearning to be inside of her. He had to stop this madness. He was not impulsive.

With all his willpower, he pushed her back.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson, Astrid.” And so did I. He learned that he couldn’t be near her without losing himself. He stood up and took a step away from her lest he reach for her and not stop this time. “This can’t happen again.”

“Really Michael. I’m not sure you can stay away from me.”

“Me? I have the discipline to stay away. This is your fault. You did this.”

Fire lit in her eyes. Dancing across her irises. If there had been flowers there before, they had been singed to ashes. Now there was only a raging inferno.

“I did this?” She closed the space between them, and poked her finger into his chest. “I did this? To myself?” She belted a short unamused laugh.

“Two years ago I certainly made a mistake.” She poked him in the chest. “ I have lived with the consequences. Not you.” Poke.

“But that does not excuse your behavior this evening.” Poke.

“What behavior?” Anticipating rancor toward her answer, he clenched his jaw.

“For starters, what the deuce are you doing in my room?”

Michael’s eyes flitted about the room. Wait. This wasn’t his bedchamber? Her hairbrush lay in front of the mirror. Her books were strewn about the nightstand.

What in God’s name had he done?