Gazing up at him, Eleanor started to lower her bodice, then stopped just as the edge of her corset came into view. “Modesty prevents me from undressing in front of you.”
Her absurd statement sent his eyebrow shooting up. But the swells of creamy skin already exposed to his avid gaze made Damon recall the lushness of her bare breasts and the potent sensuality of her body when they'd made love yesterday.
Then Eleanor wet her lips with her tongue, and he realized that she was deliberately trying to arouse him. She was definitely succeeding, Damon acknowledged, feeling his loins harden.
Her mouth looked soft and ripe, her skin infinitely touchable. He stepped closer, the need to kiss her as strong as any desire he'd ever felt. And from the telltale pulse flickering at the base of her throat, he knew Eleanor was fighting her own desire for him. Her blue eyes were luminous with heat-
It gave Damon little consolation when she shook her head with a regretful smile. “You had best change your attire, my lord husband. We don't wish to keep my aunt waiting. She becomes exceedingly crotchety when her will is crossed.”
When he made no reply, Eleanor pushed gently against his chest, guiding him backward toward their connecting door.
When he had crossed the threshold to his own chamber, her smile turned almost sad. “I think it best to lock this door so we will not be tempted to transgress.”
Then stepping back, Eleanor shut the door firmly between them.
Damon heard the bolt settling in place and stared at the panel, torn between exasperation and disbelief. He was married to Elle now, but she intended to deny him her bed. Moreover, she'd made it clear that he would have to battle her resistance as well as contend with her overprotective aunt.
Registering the painful tightness in his pantaloons, Damon grimaced. For a fleeting moment, he had actually started to anticipate this house party with pleasure, yet now it looked as if all he could expect was a fortnight of frustrated desire.
Thinking of the torment in store for him, he let out a long breath.
It would, he suspected, be a very long fortnight indeed.
You would be wise to appear elusive upon occasion. If you are always easily attainable, the challenge will fade for him and he may turn to more exciting quarry. -An Anonymous Lady, Advice…
Finding a private moment with his wife proved as difficult as Damon expected. Lady Beldon kept Elea nor by her side that entire evening and again at breakfast the next morning. Afterward, Elle professed herself too busy to go riding with him, since she would be engaged in reading the manuscript of a novel a friend had written.
Damon enjoyed a solitary ride and sequestered himself in the Rosemont library. Then shortly after one o'clock, the first houseguests began arriving.
He'd known he would dislike having Prince Laz-zara in close proximity to his new bride, but he hadn't counted on having his jealousy aroused from another quarter: Rayne Kenyon, the new Earl of Haviland, who'd escorted his grandmother the dowager countess down from London.
Or more precisely, Damon was not happy that Eleanor seemed to be on such easy terms with Lord Haviland and even appeared to flirt with him. Damon overheard them jesting together when they all gathered in the drawing room at four o'clock for tea.
“A pity I was not swift enough to snare your hand in marriage before Wrexham did,” the earl told Eleanor with a smile. “My grandmother would have been enraptured had you chosen to wed me, since she thinks you the ideal young lady.”
Eleanor smiled back at him. “It is common knowledge that Lady Haviland is pressing you to marry.”
“A vast understatement,” Haviland said dryly. “She wants an heir to her family bloodlines before she goes to meet her Maker, which she insists will come any day now. But since you are no longer available, I will have to search elsewhere for a suitable bride.”
“I regret disappointing your grandmother, my lord. But my husband”-she sent Damon a playful glance, her eyes dancing-”proved impossible for me to resist. I have no doubt, however, that you will easily attract scores of eligible young ladies.”
“Eligible, yes… but unfortunately not as appealing as I would wish.”
“I suppose they are all
too tame for you.”
“Or they consider me a trifle too uncivilized, since I'm not enamored of London society as a peer should be.”
Eleanor laughed lightly with Haviland, which sent a shaft of jealousy straight to Damon's loins.
There was far more substance to the earl, however, than the typical nobleman possessed, Damon knew from their university days together. He was reminded again that evening upon witnessing Haviland's keen powers of observation. The company had repaired to the drawing room after dinner to hear Eleanor perform on the pianoforte. While Prince Lazzara turned the sheet music for her, Haviland crossed to where Damon stood by the French doors taking in a breath of cool air as a respite from the stuffy, overheated formality of the gathering.
“I am curious, Wrexham, as to why two Bow Street Runners would be harboring on the premises.”
Damon eyed the earl with amused admiration. “So you noticed that, did you? What gave them away? Neither is wearing his usual red-breasted coat.”
“I have had some experience with Bow Street before. What is their purpose? They seem to be hovering near Lazzara whenever possible.”