Trouble in High Heels

Chapter Eighteen

Geoffrey read half of Huckleberry Finn; then Maria kicked him out of her room so she could sleep. Since he couldn’t sleep, he spent most of the night at the piano. The next morning, Maria woke up as her snappy kick-ass self and insisted on performing her regular duties despite Geoffrey’s protests.

After dinner, Geoffrey sulked for a bit, but since Maria just ignored him, he gave up on that and returned to the piano. Feeling the keys beneath his fingers and the vibration of sound throughout his body usually calmed him. But not tonight. He was so incredibly torn.

He wanted Maria with every cell in his being. How could he possibly marry Lori? His stepmother had called again today and left several threatening messages. What a bloody mess.

Raking his hand through his hair, he sighed and began to play the piece Maria had inspired. He played everything he knew of it so far but felt as if there was another line. The sensation was like having a word on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite summon.

The door creaked open behind him, interrupting him. He knew before turning who it was. Maria. He began to play a different song, one someone else had written. One to which he knew the blasted ending, which was more than he could say for his own composition.

“Why did you stop playing my song?” she asked, sliding beside him on the piano bench.

“You were listening?” he asked, glancing at her, feeling his stomach dip, his chest tighten, and something else grow hard. “I thought you were ignoring me.”

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she shot him a sideways glance. “That was because you were pouting.”

“Because you’re doing too much today. You should have rested more.”

“It’s my body,” she said. “I’m the best judge of that. So why did you stop playing my song?”

He decided not to look at her. The woman made him a mess. “I’m stuck. I don’t know what the ending is.”

“Ah,” she said.

“I know there’s something else, something more-” He frowned in concentration. “But I just can’t hear it. Yet.”

“Maybe I can help,” she offered.

“I thought you said you didn’t know much about music,” he said.

“I don’t play a musical instrument, but I know what I like.”

He nodded. “True, but how can that help?”

“There are other ways I could help,” she said.

“How?” he asked, still not wanting to look at her. She was too distracting. He wanted her too much. It was bad enough that her thigh was against his and he could almost feel the brush of her breast against his arm. She was one gigantic tease. From his peripheral vision, he saw her stand and straddle the piano bench so that she was facing him.

“Maybe I could inspire you?” she said and slid one of her hands over his thigh.

Geoffrey immediately felt his mental and emotional circuits crackle. His erection grew and his heart stopped. She lifted her head and rubbed her wicked mouth over his cheek, a caress that somehow managed to combine affection and seduction.

He couldn’t move a muscle, at least voluntarily.

“You’re not saying anything. You don’t like-”

Panic raced through him. Please, don’t stop. “I do like very much,” he managed through his tight throat.

She lifted her hand to his jaw and swiveled his head so that he was forced to look at her. Her lips were curved upward in a tempting smile, her eyes lit with promises he prayed she would keep. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Everything,” he blurted out. “Every bloody thing.”

Her smile grew, and she lifted her mouth to his, nuzzling his lips. “I want a list,” she said. “Give me a list.”

He squeezed in a breath of air. “I like your hair,” he said. “It’s long and wavy, but soft.” He lifted his hand to touch, but she pushed his hand aside.

“Not until you finish the list,” she said playfully.

He wondered what kind of game she was playing but would do anything to keep her hand on his thigh or anywhere else, so he went along with her. “I like your eyes. They’re sexy.”

She squeezed his thigh and moved closer, brushing her breasts against his arm. Geoffrey was immediately consumed with thoughts of her breasts, touching them, caressing and kissing her nipples.

“Go on,” she said.

Fortitude, my man. Fortitude. “I like the way you wrinkle your nose when you’re displeased about something.”

She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “I do?”

“Yes, you do, and you look down your nose at people when you get impatient with them.”

“I do not,” she said and wrinkled her nose. Realizing what she’d done, she wrinkled it again and removed her hand from Geoffrey’s thigh. He almost died. “Okay, maybe once in a while. What else?”

He cleared his throat. “Could you put your hand back on me?”

She met his gaze for a moment, then a realization crossed her face and she gave a wicked smile. “Does it help with the list?”

He nodded. She returned her hand to his thigh, this time higher, and he sighed in a combination of agony and expectation.

“More,” she said and rubbed her breasts against his arm.

He could say the same thing. More. Please. Now. He closed his eyes for a moment. “I love your mouth. It gives away your emotions. The way you talk, the way you smile. The way you laugh.” He sighed. “The way you kiss, although I don’t have nearly enough experience.”

A beat of silence followed, and he felt her lips on his jaw, moving down to his neck. Her tongue darted over his skin, scoring him with her heat, then he felt her open mouth on his neck and he shuddered with pleasure. She squeezed his thigh and he turned to take her mouth, but she backed away, shaking her head.

“The list,” she whispered, but he saw a hint of arousal in her eyes that gave him hope.

“I don’t like how you got your scar,” he said. “But I like what it says about you. You’re strong. You’re a survivor.”

Her gaze turned solemn. “For a stuffy, self-centered Englishman, you see a lot.”

Affronted, he sputtered. “Stuffy? Self-centered? I am neither stuffy nor self-”

“I know. Just wanted to see your reaction,” she said and smiled again. “Anything else you like about me?”

Dammit, she was pushing him to the edge. “Obviously I like your body. You could make every clock in England stop. I like everything I’ve seen, but I haven’t seen everything. I want to see more,” he said and decided to hell with it. “I want to feel more. Do more.”

“Me first,” she said and slid her hand between his legs to his erection.

It took several seconds for him to respond. “Okay,” he said. “Ladies first.”

“Lady,” she said, squeezing him gently. “Lady.”

“Lady,” he agreed, and one second later, she took his mouth in hers in a searing French kiss.

Geoffrey nearly came right then, but she pulled back. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she said.

“Yes,” he managed in a gruff voice. His clothes felt tight, his skin even tighter. “You’re wearing too many clothes, too.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

He shook his head. “Fair is fair.”

Meeting his gaze for a long moment, she sighed, then unbuttoned her blouse and stripped it off. Her bra barely concealed her full breasts, her nipples just barely peeking above the white lace.

“Oh, my-”

“If you’re going to be that distracted, should I put my shirt back on?”

“No, no, no, no…”

“Okay,” she said and kissed him again, this time stripping off his shirt and rubbing her palms over his naked skin. Somehow he’d ended up more bare than her. How had that happened?

Her hands flowed down to his waist, where she unfastened his slacks with little fumbling. He didn’t want to think about what that meant regarding her experience. How many men before him? He cut off the thought. He didn’t want to go there. What was important was this moment. This woman.

Seconds later, she plunged her hands into his crotch, touching his bare erection. He forced himself not to growl, not to…

“What are you doing?” he murmured. “What do you-”

“I’m going to kiss my way down your chest,” she said, lowering her wicked, wonderful mouth more and more. She pushed his jeans down farther, exposing him to her gaze. And mouth.

Geoffrey stifled a dozen oaths as her breath brushed over him intimately. “Oh. God.”

Meeting his gaze, she lowered her head and took him into her mouth.

“Oh. My-”

Geoffrey was in ecstasy. The sensation of her tongue on him, the visual of her hair on his crotch, her mouth devouring the most sensitive part of him.

“Do you like it?” she asked, then slid her tongue over him. “Does it feel good?”

He was one millisecond away from losing it, and she stopped. She smiled at him with a sultry gaze. “Your turn.”

Geoffrey acted purely on instinct. He lifted Maria on top of the piano and pulled off her bra. Her breasts spilled free-her nipples were large, dusky, and taut. He cupped her breasts and took a nipple into his mouth. She moaned.

Geoffrey fumbled with her jeans but succeeded in unfastening them. She graciously lifted her gorgeous hips so he could lower the denim to her thighs, then her ankles.

He caught sight of her swollen femininity. Her obvious arousal nearly did him in. “You’re so gorgeous,” he said, sliding his fingers between her thighs to where she was wet and velvety.

“That feels good,” she said, wriggling beneath his touch.

He had to have her every way. Every way. Lowering his head, he spread her legs with his hands and took her with his mouth. She gasped and sighed and gasped.

The sound was like music to his ears. The taste of her drove him crazy. She grew more swollen with each stroke of his tongue. Her reaction was beyond gratifying. “Take me,” she whispered. “Take me.”

Sitting down on the bench, he brought her onto his lap. She struggled with her jeans, kicking them off, then rose again and plunged downward on him.

“Oh. My,” he said.

“God,” she said, undulating on him.

“I can’t last long,” he said.

“Me, either,” she said.

And Geoffrey felt as if he’d died and gone to heaven. Or hell. Or both. He didn’t care which. He just wanted to go again.

After they made love again, this time on a blanket on the floor, Geoffrey held Maria in his arms. She was warm, sensual, and lush. “You are the most amazing woman in the world.”

“That’s your woodie talking,” she said, but she smiled.

“It is not,” he said. “I don’t even have a woodie at the moment,” he told her, then chuckled to himself. “You took very good care of that.” He slid his finger over the dark tendril of hair hiding one of her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a secret goddess?”

She threw back her head and laughed. “If I were a goddess, would I shovel horse manure?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

Her smile faded, but joy glinted in her dark eyes. “Perhaps.”

“If you were a goddess, what would your life be like?”

She closed her eyes and her black eyelashes curled against her eyelids. “I would have my own house and my own horses. I would have a dog or two. I would have beautiful flowers in every room, and music. All of the furniture would feel soft against my skin. I would eat fruit and fajitas and pie. I would have enough money to hire helpers and pay them well. I would give money to Virginia so she wouldn’t struggle. It would be beautiful.”

“Would you have a husband?”

Her face fell again, and he felt some of the joy slip from her. “I don’t know,” she said and opened her eyes. “He would have to be a very gentle man. I would have to be sure that he would never ever hurt me.”

A sharp longing stabbed him deep inside. More than anything, Geoffrey wanted to be that man for Maria. He opened his mouth to tell her, but the sound of Lori’s Pomeranian yapping downstairs interrupted him. He glanced up. “What the devil-” He frowned. “What time is it anyway?”

“Around eleven, I think. We should go to bed,” she said and shifted away from him. It took everything he had not to pull her back into his arms as she dressed.

Hastily pulling on his briefs and jeans, he darted to the window and spotted Jackson ’s SUV in front of the house. His gut sank. “They’re back,” he muttered. “Lori and Jackson are back.”

Maria joined him at the window. “Lori,” she said, her voice dead.

His heart hammering, he turned to Maria. “I want to be with you more than anything,” he said. “But my family’s finances are in dire straits. They’re counting on me to get us out of the bloody mess. It’s not fair. It’s not right. But it is my duty. I must marry her if she’ll have me.”

“Tough being a duke, isn’t it?” she said, with a sad smile. “She’s pretty and rich, no scars-”

“Stop.” Geoffrey pulled her against him. “She’s not you,” he said. “And you are who I want. You are who I wanted before I even knew you existed.”

He saw the flicker of emotion and passion in her eyes before she closed them for a second. “But I don’t have what you need. You would suffer if you didn’t take care of your family. You must marry Lori.” She lifted on tiptoe to press her lips against his. “I won’t forget you,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt so treasured. You’ve been gentle with me.”

“You deserve so much more,” he said, feeling helpless. “You deserve-”

“Shhh,” she said. “We have this to remember, and I will always have your song. Good night, Geoffrey,” she said and left him staring after her. He felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest.

Lori awakened the next morning in her bed at Virginia ’s ranch house with Kenny at her feet. It could have been three days ago or two weeks ago. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Had she really gotten married?

Her mind flashed back to the awful wedding ceremony and the two mind-blowing nights she’d shared with Jackson. She couldn’t have dreamed all that. She sat up in bed and thought about how they’d parted last night. He’d parked her duffel bag inside her bedroom and she’d held her breath, wondering if he would stay, wondering if he would ask her to join him. Instead, he’d muttered, “Good night.”

She’d fumed over his lack of passion for a good hour, then fell asleep. Kenny moved toward her and rolled over to offer his belly to be rubbed. Lori smiled and obliged him. She shouldn’t overthink her marriage to Jackson. The only rational part of it was that she now had access to her inheritance, and the first check she planned to write was to Virginia.

Rising from bed, she showered and dressed in jeans for the day. She walked downstairs and found Jackson, Maria, and Geoffrey in the kitchen. “Good morning.”

Maria looked down her nose at Lori. “Good morning. Did you enjoy your vacation?”

“I took care of some business, but yes, I did have some fun, too. I think it’s best to try to find the fun in as many of life’s moments as you can. Don’t you agree?” Lori asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“It isn’t always easy to have fun. Some of us have to work,” Maria retorted.

“Yes, but-”

“I must go down to the barn now,” Maria interjected and left the room.

“Whew!” Lori said, looking after her. “Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“You shouldn’t criticize her,” Geoffrey said. “She hasn’t had it easy like you and I have.”

Lori felt as if she were striking out all around. She turned nervously to Jackson. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be here today, but I’m going to Dallas tomorrow.”

She nodded, feeling an odd uneasiness at the prospect of him leaving. “I’ll write the ch-”

“We can talk about it tonight,” he interjected and stood.

“Okay,” she said, wondering where the man who had ravished her body yet held her tenderly had gone. All she saw in Jackson ’s eyes was thinly veiled impatience. Her stomach twisted at his lack of emotion. She felt like a fool. Why? she wondered. It wasn’t as if she and Jackson had professed undying love. Oh, wait. They actually had done that during the wedding vows. But she was certain he hadn’t meant it. And neither had she. Had she?

“Do either of you know where Virginia is?”

“I think she’s with the campers this morning,” Geoffrey said.

“Okay, I’ll give her-” She corrected herself. “I’ll talk to her later.” She turned to Geoffrey. Her second task for the day was to tell him she couldn’t marry him. “I’m ready to get back to cleaning chores. Will you be joining me?”

He gave a heavy sigh and nodded. “You’re not going to eat?”

Lori’s appetite disappeared as she watched Jackson leave. “I’ll just grab a biscuit on my way out the door.”

Ten minutes later, she and Geoffrey walked to the cabins and began working. “Anything important happen while I was gone?” she asked him as she grabbed a bucket and headed for the bathroom.

“Just the regular everyday earthquakes and tidal waves,” Geoffrey said soberly.

Lori appreciated his deadpan levity. “All in one day, here in the middle of Texas. I’m surprised it didn’t make the news.”

“I am, too,” he said, grabbing a mop. “Lori,” he said and she glanced up at him.

“Yes?”

He locked his jaw and closed his eyes as if he were in pain, then dropped to his knee.

Oh, no, she thought. Not another proposal. “Geoffrey, before you-”

He lifted his hand and shook his head. “No. I must. It’s my duty. It’s the only way. I must. I-” He broke off and wailed. “I can’t do it.” He rose to his feet. “I just can’t. My family may lose everything, but I can’t marry you.”

Moved by his distress, she took a step toward him. “That’s okay, because I-”

“I just can’t,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m in love with Maria, and it would be sacrilege to marry you.”

Lori felt her jaw drop. Shock raced through her. “Maria?”

“Yes, I’m sorry I’ve been deceptive. I tried to resist her. I really did, but the woman is a goddess.” He cleared his throat. “You’re perfectly nice and lovely, but Maria is-”

Lori bit her lip in amusement at the slight ego slap. “No, it’s okay. Something has happened, and I couldn’t marry you anyway.”

“Of course,” he said but clearly didn’t believe her.

“No, really,” she said.

“I’m sorry that I’ve wasted your time.” He sighed. “There will be hell to pay with my family. If I’m lucky, they’ll simply disown me.”

Lori felt a tug of sympathy for the kind British duke who’d followed her to the middle of nowhere and ended up falling for temperamental Maria. “Out of curiosity, how much money do you need to get things back on track?”

He named a sum that would force her to go to Jackson. Lori grimaced.

“I know. It’s a bloody fortune. And for you Yanks, the pound makes it doubly worse.”

She nodded. “Is there any way you could make the house income-producing on its own?”

“I can’t imagine how.”

“I don’t know. Make it a prestige bed-and-breakfast kind of thing? Have visitors pay to stay in a duke’s house. Let them be duke for a day or something.”

“It sounds a bit like prostitution. My stepmother would hate it.” He paused. “Knowing how much she would hate it makes me like the idea even more.” He sighed. “I don’t want to be in a financial pit the rest of my life. What I’d really like to do is write music for film.”

Lori’s mind began to turn with possibilities. “Then why don’t you?”

“For one, I don’t have any connections.”

“I could help with that.”

“Would you?”

She nodded. “Do you have anything you could give someone?”

“Yes, but I suppose I’d also need some sort of backing or partnership to start up a company. It’s too much to ask of you. You’re too kind. I should take care of this myself.”

“Well, there could be some benefit to me. What if you’re a huge hit? I can say I knew you from the beginning. I helped launch you.”

“You’re too kind,” Geoffrey said. “Why couldn’t we fancy each other?”

“I like the idea of having you as a friend,” Lori said. “I’ll need to clear this with my consultant, but it shouldn’t be a problem,” she added, certain Jackson would have no problem with this financial move. After all, she might even see a return on this investment.