Beautiful Distraction Read online

  And though he had been born into a gentleman’s home, he didn’t exactly feel he fit either. Yet another fact that bound him to her.

  “What do you think of the earl?” he asked.

  She jolted at the question and her discomfort was clear on her face. “I only met him for a moment—it would be difficult to make a judgment only from that.”

  “But you’ve heard stories about him,” Mal said, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “Everyone has.”

  Olivia bent her head. “Yes.”

  Mal tensed. People always thought they knew Liam because they knew about the scandalous war that had been long fought between his family and the house of the Duke of Rothcastle. They talked about the carriage accident that had maimed Liam and killed Rothcastle’s sister. They whispered about the marriage that had ultimately formed between Rothcastle and Liam’s sister.

  It all boiled Mal’s blood, because sometimes people took pleasure in the vicious gossip about a series of events that had been nothing but hell for his friend.

  “The vultures,” she continued quietly, “label your friend as a fallen angel, broken by the death of his lover, hardened by a war, hiding like a beast. But I would wager there is more to it than that.”

  Mal tilted his head. “You sum it up perfectly.”

  “Sometimes one has a better view of the truth when looking from the outside in,” Olivia said with a shrug.

  They were almost back to the house now, so Mal steered them into the rose garden near the back of the estate. He motioned to a narrow bench that sat under the shade of a juniper tree and they sat close together, her knees brushing his. It was an innocent enough touch, but it still made his body hot.

  “I imagine you are right,” Mal said. “People are always clearer from a safe distance.”

  “And in my profession, I must study the true character of those I meet, in order to guess if…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry, that is inappropriate. I’m certain you don’t want to hear about the details of my profession.”

  He hesitated. “Perhaps not the sexual conquests of your past, but I imagine you were going to say you have to be a quick study of those around you to determine threats, as well as good matches.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Yes. That’s exactly right.”

  He smiled at her shock. “It isn’t only courtesans who employ those methods. I am Liam’s friend, but I am also his estate manager. I must also make quick judgments about those around us, to decide if their motives about the earl and his money are true or not.”

  She shifted slightly. “And have you made a determination about Violet.”

  Mal pinched his lips together. Normally he might have, but he had been so totally consumed by thoughts of Olivia since they met. Not that he would tell her that.

  “Your friend is difficult to read,” he admitted. “But I know Liam wants her.”

  She leaned closer. “And what about me?” she whispered. “What do you see when you look at me?”

  What she asked for could very well reveal more than he wished for her to see. And yet he still found himself answering, “I don’t think about what anyone else wants or feels or thinks when I look at you. I only think of myself. I am utterly selfish, and I like that.”

  A small smile tilted her lips slightly and she reached up to cup the back of his neck and draw him to her. Before she kissed him, she whispered, “I like it too.”

  Their lips met and almost immediately the kiss stoked a fire deep in his loins that made his cock harden and his body scream at him about need and want and now.

  He rose to his feet, dragging her with him. “Come.”

  She laughed as she was dragged up a back stair and offered no resistance when he tugged her into her room. Olivia’s maid was hunched over a portmanteau and straightened up with a start as they stumbled into her presence.

  Mal tensed, ready for Olivia to show that same shame she had earlier. Instead, she smiled at the girl and nodded for the door.

  “Belle,” she said quietly.

  The girl needed no other direction and immediately left the room with only a knowing smile as she closed the door behind her. Olivia faced him with a clear expression of desire, but not a hint of embarrassment. Her confidence made his cock swell all the more.

  “Take off your clothes,” he ordered.

  She arched a brow, but immediately began unfastening her dress.

  “You too,” she said, her voice full of laughter despite the demand.

  It quickly turned into a race to nudity. Olivia kept her gaze locked on him as they both tugged free buttons and loosened ties. He could hardly breathe as she shoved from her gown, her chemise, her slippers, her stockings, and finally stood in front of him utterly naked. Of course, by this time he was the same and she worried her lip with her teeth as she looked at him.

  “I don’t know how you don’t have women lining up to bed you by the dozen,” she growled as she reached out to press a hand to his chest.

  He hissed out pleasure at the heat of her touch and barely kept himself from flipping her onto the bed and fucking her without any seduction beforehand.

  “Or do you?” she asked, brown eyes lifting to snare his.

  He could hardly breathe and certainly couldn’t stop his hands from covering her breasts. As he began to massage lightly, he grunted, “Have women lined up for my pleasure?” he asked. She nodded with a throaty moan. “No. Not recently, at any rate.”

  “What has made recently so different?” she gasped, her head lolling back as he pinched her nipples. Her legs were beginning to shake. He wanted to make them go out from under her.

  “Busy,” he grunted and covered her mouth with his so they would both stop talking, stop analyzing. He just wanted to feel her. Beneath him, around him.

  She didn’t resist; in fact, she only broke the kiss to start a hot, wet path with her mouth down his body. Her knees hit the carpet and she looked up the length of his body, stroking her hand down his chest before she cupped his cock and slowly took him into her mouth.

  He had been fantasizing about making her knees buckle, but now it was his legs that threatened to go out from under him as she sucked him deep into her throat. And it wasn’t just the fact that she knew exactly how to suck or that she swirled her tongue around his girth until he thought he might lose consciousness, but it was that she watched him. With every stroke of her mouth and tongue, her dark eyes held his, daring him to lose control, daring him to come at her bidding.

  He plunged his hands into her hair as he let pleasure be his guide. Hairpins scattered on the floor around her, but she didn’t stop the magic she was performing with her mouth. He felt his balls tightening, the rush of his seed imminent, and that was the moment he forced himself to pull free of her tempting, torturous lips.

  She yelped in protest. A sound that turned to a moan as he spun her around to lean facedown on the bed, lifted her hips and speared her wet sex in one long thrust. She gripped the coverlet with her fists as she let out a low cry. With a grin, he drew back and began to grind into her, rotating his hips in smooth circles as he reached around her body to flick at her nipples with his forefingers.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered, his breath short when every thrust made his already edgy body move ever closer to explosion.

  She whimpered, but did as he decreed, sliding a hand between her legs and stroking herself as he took her. Their rhythms merged and he squeezed his eyes shut as her body tensed and released around him, welcoming him in, letting him go, tightening so that he felt hot, sharp pleasure, releasing so that he didn’t come too soon.

  She was a master, made for sex, sin. Made for him. And he took full advantage of that as his hips jerked faster. Suddenly her sheath tensed and she let out a keening wail as her body twitched with release. She tugged at him, urging him to let loose his seed and he could no longer deny what she did to him.

  With a bark of pleasure, he pulled from her body and milked his own release with a hand. Then he coll
apsed over her, pinning her to the bed as he scattered kisses along her neck and shoulders.

  She caught his hand and held it against the coverlet near her face as her breath returned to normal. Finally, he rolled from her body and let her turn on her back to face him. She was smiling, no hint of shame on her face, no whisper of regret. There was only lazy, sensual pleasure there.

  “Mmm,” she said as she touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers. “I’m certainly glad I joined Violet if this is to be my welcome. Are all your other guests treated in such a manner?”

  He laughed. “Not quite. Although we haven’t had many guests as of late, so perhaps this should become the standard of the household.”

  She swatted his arm playfully. “Then I wouldn’t be special. How tragic.”

  His laughter faded as he stared down into her face. “I think it would be impossible for you not to be special.”

  Her expression changed, softening with surprise. Then she cupped the back of his head. “How long until we have to meet Violet and the earl for supper?”

  “Eight o’clock,” he said as his lips lowered.

  “Just enough time, then,” she said, then drew him to her for a deep kiss filled with even more passionate promise than before.

  And as he surrendered, randy and ready as a green lad, he couldn’t help but wonder what spell this remarkable woman had woven over him. And if he would ever be free again.

  Chapter Six

  Olivia sighed with pleasure as the servant set yet another beautiful dish before her. Their supper had been magnificent thus far, at least in flavor and appearance.

  The company, on the other hand, was another story. Since the earl and Violet had joined her and Malcolm in the dining room almost an hour ago, Liam’s state of mind had been clear. If the way he jabbed at his food was any indication, he was frustrated and angry. Meanwhile, Violet held her face very still and hardly seemed to notice the meal before them.

  It was clear the two had had some kind of quarrel. Normally, Olivia wouldn’t involve herself in such things, but she knew how much this meant to Violet.

  Olivia swallowed hard and smiled in the hopes she could lighten the mood and help her friend in some small way.

  “You do have a splendid cook, my lord,” she said as she took a bite and hummed out pleasure at the explosion of flavor on her tongue. “I envy you these delicious meals every single day and night.”

  Liam looked up to answer, eyes narrowed, but if he had an answer for her, he didn’t speak it because Malcolm leaned closer to her. She tensed at his invasion of her space and at the memories the scent of his skin put into her mind.

  “Wait until you taste dessert, pet,” he murmured, his eyes meeting hers with a message that could not be ignored. He wanted her and, God help her, but she wanted him just as desperately.

  And right here at the table, utterly inappropriately, they were showing their desires. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced in her life.

  “How long have you worked for Liam?” Violet asked.

  Olivia jolted at the sound her friend’s voice. Violet’s brow was arched and she did not look as though she approved of the obvious connection Olivia had formed so swiftly with Mal. Olivia’s cheeks flooded with heat, so she returned her gaze to her plate.

  Mal straightened up as well, the spell between them temporarily broken.

  “Windbury and I have been friends since…” he shook his head and cast a quick glance toward Liam, “…school, I suppose. I began managing his estates when—”

  He cut himself off and Olivia jerked her gaze to him. There was a certain hesitation to his tone…a sadness that drew her as close as her physical attraction did. What had he gone through in the tumultuous years since the accident that had scarred Windbury and killed the sister of the current Duke of Rothcastle? What had he seen while the rest of the world whispered about the state of the earl?

  She reached a shaking hand out to squeeze Malcolm’s arm, needing to touch him, to comfort him as she pondered those questions.

  “Violet and I have also been friends for an age,” she said softly, then looked at her friend. “Haven’t we?”

  Violet cleared her throat and glanced at Liam. “We have,” she responded. “I think it is lucky that both I, and Lord Windbury, have had such good friends.”

  “Foolish as they may be,” Liam grumbled.

  Olivia’s nostrils flared. Was the arrogant earl speaking of her or of Malcolm, a man who had stood by him no matter what? Either way, she refused to rise to his disgruntled bait.

  “And now we’ve all met thanks to those friendships,” she said, keeping her attention on Mal. “We’re lucky indeed.”

  Malcolm hesitated and Olivia saw his eyes flicker toward Liam. Then he slowly let them turn back to her. Only her.

  “Very lucky,” he agreed, and her body tensed at the focused stare Mal gifted her.

  The moment was broken, though, when Liam pushed his chair back. Mal stared at him as the earl clenched his napkin and stared at the group. Then he threw his napkin across his plate and left the room without so much as a glance behind him.

  Olivia stared as Liam disappeared from the room. Was this what Malcolm had endured for the past two years? Was this the man he called friend?

  She leaned back in her chair, hoping to appear nonchalant. “His ill humor is impressive. I didn’t mean to bother him with my silly chatter.”

  Mal shook his head, staring at the door where his friend had departed. Olivia watched him. He was worried about Liam—the lines of concern were deep in his handsome face.

  “I apologize, ladies,” Malcolm finally managed. “My friend has been a little…rough since his accident. And he doesn’t keep company often, probably because his emotions can overtake him when he isn’t expecting it. I think the reality of being around others remains troublesome to him.”

  Olivia covered Mal’s hand with her own, hoping again to offer him comfort. “He was hard on you.”

  He shrugged, but his frown deepened. “Sometimes he lashes out. I can ignore it most times, though we do occasionally have words if he takes things too far. I have been through the worst with him and seen him when I thought he might—”

  Malcolm cut himself off and his face twisted with pain and worry and deep sadness. He took a breath before he continued, “I understand Windbury’s motives for lashing out. Though I admit, he can be harsh.”

  Violet tilted her head. “And yet you stay with him.”

  Olivia jolted. She’d been so focused on Mal she’d almost forgotten Violet was there. Her friend was drinking everything in, using the intimate moment between Olivia and Malcolm to gather information for her own quest. Olivia wasn’t certain she liked that thought.

  Mal looked at Violet and shook his head. “He needs me.”

  He said the words without any kind of judgment or regret, and Olivia’s heart swelled. This was a man who would sacrifice, who had sacrificed, everything he wanted or had for someone he cared for.

  She shifted at the thought of how Mal would feel if he knew she had come here as an accessory to a betrayal of that someone.

  Violet pushed her plate away and folded her hands on the table before her. “I would like to follow him, talk to him,” she said, looking at Mal.

  He drew back and his expression was very hard to read as he said slowly, “I warn you, he will likely be inhospitable.”

  Violet swallowed. “Yes. But if his anger comes from pain, then he may need company, even if he refuses to acknowledge that fact to any of us. He may desire a friend, if you don’t mind my offering myself in that position instead of you.”

  “Is that what you want to be to him? A friend?” Mal asked, tone carefully neutral.

  Olivia turned her face. Violet would lie now, pretend. And Olivia was torn between understanding her friend’s motives and hating that Mal was caught in the middle of them.

  “If he would allow it,” Violet whispered.

  Mal was quiet for a
long moment, pondering her request, it seemed. Then he nodded.

  “Actually, Miss Milford, I think what you offer may be what he needs more than anything I can provide. If you want to follow him, I would assume his office is where he will lick his wounds. It generally is.”

  Violet got to her feet slowly. “Good evening, you two. If I don’t see you again, I hope you enjoy your dessert.”

  As Violet turned, Olivia reached out and caught her hand. Now that Violet would truly go into the den of what seemed to be an ill-tempered bear, Olivia couldn’t help but fear the consequences, her own hesitations and guilt be damned.

  “Are you certain?” she asked softly.

  Violet hesitated, but then she gave a weak smile. “Of course. Good night.”

  Her friend slipped away, leaving Olivia alone with Malcolm. But the tension in the room between them was no longer physical and fun. It was rippled with their worries, shared and yet different.

  “I don’t want to offend,” Olivia said softly. “But he wouldn’t…he wouldn’t hurt her, would he?”

  Mal stared at her in surprise. “Liam? No, no, of course not. He is not an abuser of women, I promise you. I wouldn’t stand for that.”

  Relief flooded Olivia’s entire being and she relaxed against the chair. “I’m sorry, I must ask, you know. Women of our station…”

  She trailed off and Mal nodded. “I imagine you have seen and gone through a great deal.”

  “Not often,” Olivia said.

  He tilted his head. “But sometimes.”

  She swallowed. Somehow, in her defense of Violet, she had opened a door to her past she hadn’t wanted to unlock. Now she felt a little foolish as this handsome man stared at her expectantly, giving her some kind of permission to confess her past.

  “Once,” she admitted. “Very early in my time as a courtesan.”