What the Earl Desires Page 5

  Najja never flinched from his sharp stare. “See you tonight, Najja,” he said on a husky whisper.

  “Mr. Faulkner.”

  He hid his displeasure and dismounted before going to Najja. Hands placed at her waist, he lifted her down. As her intoxicating body slid by his, he whispered, “I much prefer it when you call me, Colin.” A slim tremor coursed through her.

  “Until later, ladies,” he said with a bow before leaving them and getting back on his horse. He had to ride and calm down. Najja’s supple body was proving to be one hell of a distraction and temptation.

  Chapter Three

  Najja sat in her room. Her heart still pounded with swift alacrity from when Colin…no, Mr. Faulkner assisted her off her horse. The warm breath along her cheek and ear went straight to her core so it throbbed with intensity.

  She stared at her hands noticing with disgust how they shook. Even now. Why him? Why now? She had a mission to accomplish. But still she wondered what it would be like. A man like Colin was sure to be an amazing lover.

  What little sleep she got had been invaded by wistful dreams of being able to let down her guard and allow him as her lover. How his fingers and hands would feel. The heavy weight of him covering her as he lay between her legs, sliding--

  “Najja!” Jo burst into the room, her face alight with excitement.

  She smiled at her friend with practiced patience and forced those renegade thoughts of Colin to the back of her mind. “Hi, Jo.”

  Jo closed the door and frowned, a furrow appearing between her brows. Moments later she joined her on the bed taking one of her hands. “Are you okay?”

  Feigning a cheerful expression, she nodded. “I am. I was just thinking.”

  Blue eyes regarded her carefully. “You miss Africa?”

  “Yes.” She did so much.

  “Me too,” Jo said resting her head against her shoulder. “But I do like Colin. He is really nice. And cute.”

  Cute wasn’t the word she would have picked. Dangerously handsome. Something grew in the pit of her belly. Ugly and angry. The idea Jo may want him made her feel physically sick. She fought it. Jo had more right than she to be with Mr. Colin Faulkner.

  The one thing she had not counted on was how well she had taught Jo to observe.

  “You like him.” The words were whispered and almost awe-like.

  “Let it go, Jo.”

  “No. I think it is wonderful. What can I do to help?”

  She expelled a sharp breath. “There will be nothing to come of it.”

  “Why not? I see how he watches you when he does not think anyone knows.”

  Her belly fluttered at the knowledge. “He is not for me.”

  Jo tugged on some of her hair. “Seems to me he can make up his own mind.” She scrambled off the bed. “Did you know you never once denied you liked him?” Jo vanished before a response could be formed.

  With a groan, Najja flopped back on the feather mattress. Cheeky girl. And a truer friend she’d never had. But then, she’d never had a friend before she met Josephine Adrys. The girl had not understood boundaries and had wormed her way past all defenses. No matter what she went through, Jo was there when she made it back. Never judging only welcoming her with friendship.

  Najja dressed in what she would wear for the night and made her way downstairs. But instead of going for the meal she ducked into the library and curled up in a large chair near the blazing fire, book in hand.

  “I missed you at dinner.” The voice, deep and seductive, wove around her like molten silk.

  Peering over the top of the book, The Iliad by Homer, her heart gave a jump. Colin stood close, a tray in one hand, dressed in black breeches, blue coat and shiny Hessians. She’d never even heard the door open or him enter.

  “You need to eat something,” he commented placing the tray near her on a foot stool. “There will be stuff at the festival but it will not begin for a while yet.”

  She was at a loss; no one had brought her food before. His green eyes shone in the firelight. “Is the meal over?” She began to rise. “I should find Jo.” How much time had she lost delving beneath the pages of The Iliad?

  “Sit.” It was softly spoken yet an ironclad command. “The meal is still going on.”

  He repositioned the tray in front of her and removed the cover as she sank back down. She was pleasantly surprised at seeing baked eggs on toast. A bit bemused she glanced at him as she closed the book and tucked it beside her.

  Colin shrugged and said, “Jo mentioned you loved the dish. Cook was more than happy to make it for you.”

  Was it her imagination or did he just blush?

  “Thank you,” she responded, reaching for one of the toast rounds and biting into it.

  Without a word, Colin drew up another large wing backed chair and plunked down in it. His strong legs in tightly wrapped breeches settled upon either side of the footrest. Unbidden her gaze snuck to where those very legs met and gulped at the not so hidden proof of his endowment, with difficulty she focused on chewing and swallowing.

  It was impossible to ignore him. So large. So virile. So male. So there. His coat discarded, the waistcoat lay open exposing the crisp white linen of his shirt, rolled up with the sleeves at his elbows. His attention remained riveted on her. Finished with the final bite of the toast she wiped her fingers and sat back, refusing to acknowledge the second piece of toast.

  The book clutched in her hands she shifted so one leg dangled to the floor. She met his stare, which she’d felt upon her since he sat down. Her fingers tightened on the book’s edge.

  “Finish it.”

  Another order.

  She began to shake her head only to have him interrupt.

  “You do not eat enough to keep a bird alive. Finish this.”

  “You should not even know how much I eat,” he lifted a brow, “or do not eat.” Regardless of impropriety on his behavior it warmed her to know he had noticed.

  “You intrigue me, Najja.”

  Memorizing her place for the second time, she shut the book and rested it along her thigh in the chair. Then she leaned to pluck the remaining baked egg on toast from the plate. He observed her as she ate. When she finished, he glanced pointedly at the cup of tea and back to her.

  She lifted it and inhaled the fresh smell of mint before taking a cautious sip. Perfect. “Jo?”

  He nodded. “Tell me about you.”

  “Is this why you brought me food? To learn my secrets?”

  “You dislike answering questions.”

  “I dislike being the only one to do so.”

  “So if I answer one, you will?”

  She thought about it then agreed. His grin made her wonder a bit.

  He leaned forward, placed elbows on his thighs and winked, the firelight glinting off the gold hoop in his ear. “Ask away.”

  “Why do you live out here when your father is an earl?”

  Those stunning verdant eyes darkened and hardened. Obviously a sore subject. “I was tired of wasting my life so I joined the Royal Navy. When I sold my commission I still had no desire to return to London. So I poured my attentions into my estates which my man of affairs had been looking after while I was at sea. They have prospered even more. Who told you I was the son of an earl?”

  She sipped her tea. “Lord Adrys. Why do you--”

  “Wait, I get a question.”

  She smiled relaxing back into the chair. “You had yours.” At his dubious and skeptical glance she said, “You asked me who told me your father was an earl.”

  His eyes twinkled. “So I did. Very well.”

  She crossed her legs and tightened her fingers around the warm cup. “Why do you scowl so much?”

  Colin frowned. “Do you really think I scowl?”

  “I have yet to see you leave your study with anything other than one upon your face.”

  He thought for a moment. “I would if you were in there with me.”

  The words created more of that
damnable longing within her. “Perhaps.” She allowed herself to say nothing more.

  A devilish glint appeared and he grinned. One of wicked promises. “Shall we try?”

  “No, Mr. Faulkner, we shall not.”

  “Colin.” She opened her mouth but he waved her silent. “When it is just us or if Jo is around call me Colin. There are no nosy society harpies to give their unwanted opinion, so between us we are only Colin and Najja.”

  She didn’t know what to say. “And sometimes Jo.” The urge to smack herself in the head was great. How stupid did she sound?

  “Exactly.” His green eyes burned with concupiscence and she barely held the shiver at bay. “Now, my turn.”

  “Actually, it is mine again.”

  She could tell he wished to dispute but he merely leaned back. Well, there was no ‘merely’ about it, but he reclined waiting, reminding her of an animal on the hunt. Trying to appear harmless and lure the prey in close enough to attack.

  Staring at him she experienced another pang of yearning, one she would do well to ignore for he was not the man for her. Regardless if he had a title or not, he was an earl’s son and she…well was less than a common-born in this country to most. Plus once done here she had to return to Father and whatever he had planned for her next. That knowledge sobered her.

  “Could I ask you for a favor?”

  “Of course you can ask.”

  Meaning he may refuse to grant it. “I know you live next door to Lord Adrys’ property.” She swallowed and dug to find the strength to carry on. Asking favors wasn’t something she did. “I would ask you to check on Jo from time to time. Make sure she is okay.”

  “Wo--” He never finished the question merely rotated his shoulders. “And if…when she marries?”

  “So long as he is a good man it does not matter.”

  “Such a favor will cost you.”

  Najja sighed. “I figured as much.” She placed the cup down, folded her hands. “What do you wish in return? I have no money.”

  “No, I have enough of that.” He leaned forward and skimmed her with his gaze. She fought the urge to shift in the seat. “Jo and her family mean a lot to you it seems.”

  “Yes.”

  His gaze sharpened. “Your horse, would you part with him?”

  Her heart clenched painfully. “Fineas?”

  “Is that his name?”

  “It is.”

  “Then yes, I mean Fineas, your black Arabian.”

  She thought of Jo. Her freckled face and bright blue eyes which surely would dim with a husband who didn’t treat her as the jewel she was. There was no one else whom she considered a friend. Still, it was hard to imagine not having Fineas as well. “You…you would treat him well?”

  He cocked a dark brow. “You do not ask if I will forget my promise to you but you ask if I will treat Fineas well?”

  “I see you as a man who keeps his word once given. Is that not so?”

  “I keep my word,” he said, his tone almost indignant.

  She rolled her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. Fineas…she would miss him. “Yes, I will part with him.” The words struggled to make it past her lips. “Is that what you wish for in return?”

  He stroked his chin and studied her. “No, I will do this but in return for a kiss.”

  Her heart thundered out of control. “A kiss?” When did her mouth get so dry?

  “Yes luv. A kiss. That is my price. Do you accept?”

  “I do.” She planted both feet on the floor, closed her eyes, waiting.

  A husky chuckle surrounded her and she peered at him. “What are you doing?” he asked in amusement.

  “I thought you wanted a kiss.”

  Darkened seafoam eyes held her prisoner. A seductive grin lifted kissable lips. He came closer, his hands settled upon the arms of the chair putting himself right in her personal space. “I do, but the kiss will be done by my choosing when and where.” So close was he, their noses almost touched. “Do you agree?” A silken challenge sat woven around the question.

  “Yes,” she replied after regaining control of her facilities. He smelled so good, so rugged, and so masculine. So mouthwatering. Were men supposed to smell so distractingly good?

  The door opened and he backed off, picking up the tray. “Glad to hear it.”

  “There you are, Najja,” Jo said coming near. “Am I disturbing anything?”

  “No,” Colin said, handing the tray to a passing maid.

  “Darn,” Jo huffed and sat on the stool. “Ready to go to the festival?”

  Beyond Jo’s mass of curls she met Colin’s gaze. Blasted man winked and left the room. “I am ready, Jo.”

  “Is everything okay, Najja?”

  “Fine. Let’s go to the festival.”

  Together they went to the door and put on coats and gloves. Jo said goodbye to her parents and they made their way to the waiting coach. The air was crisp and sharp.

  When she sat beside Jo, her head jerked up when the closing door opened wide again. Colin climbed in.

  “Figured we could all ride together,” he said by way of explanation.

  She smothered her groan while Jo chatted away. Colin’s legs were long and constantly pressed against hers, sending her into her own private hell. Never before had she longed for a man’s touch. It seemed Colin knew it too, subtle touches of the leg and foot tormenting her the entire trip.

  The night was cold yet it in no way deterred from the festival. Fires burned brightly, people danced, food cooked and children ran unchecked. Colin spoke to his tenants all the while thinking about Najja and their upcoming kiss. His blood burned and spikes of lust shot through him.

  The ladies moved a bit ahead of him and it didn’t escape his notice how protective Najja was of Jo. Not just protective, she seemed thoroughly aware of everything around them. Yet she accomplished it in an extremely subtle way. Not an obvious one. More mystery of the woman who had but one name. Najja.

  Both women wore darker colors but like usual only Najja piqued his interest. While Kyle Easterly spoke about his thoughts on how well his harvest was, Colin continually found himself honed in on Najja.

  The wind picked up and he noticed the bonfires gleamed off something on her ear. He had seen the earring bobs on her lobes but couldn’t recall seeing anything else. Of course her hair usually covered the tops of her ears.

  “Well, what do you think, Mr. Faulkner?” Easterly asked his round face full of excitement at what he’d just proposed.

  I think I have become enamored with an enchantress from Africa. “I think, Mr. Easterly, it is going to be a very good autumn and winter.”

  Easterly beamed. “My thoughts exactly. Well…I see the missus, have a great time.”

  “Likewise, Easterly.”

  The man walked away and Colin fought a grin. He knew he wasn’t a man who put distance between himself and his tenants. After all they were the ones who made him not have to maintain and upkeep. These people didn’t put on airs like so many he’d grown up with in London. He liked them, they allowed him privacy and there was no matchmaking. For which he was eternally grateful.

  With a sigh, he took in the festival while contemplating what to do about Najja. He would have her in his bed. Of that he had no doubt. Speaking of Najja, where was she? To his left he spotted Jo dancing with some of the young village girls. But no Najja. He searched harder near Jo, aware she rarely went far from the younger Miss Adrys.

  His heart calmed when he spotted her crouched by a child, appearing deep in discussion. Her head tipped back and she laughed. He was rooted to the spot, captivated beyond words, when the sound of her laughter danced along the wind from her mouth to his ears.

  Bloody hell! He’d never wanted anyone so much in his entire life.

  “Breathing would be advisable,” a low voice said from beside him.

  He glanced down to find Wilkes there. The man had a sparkle in his eyes even though his expression was impassive.

&nb
sp; “I have news.”

  Colin turned his eyes toward where Najja still spoke to the girl. “And?”

  “They plan to hit the next shipment of yours. Not sure where yet though.”

  “Damn it! I cannot afford to lose more men or whisky.”

  “That is not all.”

  His mood had soured. “What else?”

  “There are two men who constantly hang around Kittle Manor. Rough looking, although they do claim to be friends of Adrys. So far no one has said a word about him staying with you.” Wilkes paused. “There is talk though of a dark skinned woman who travels with them.”

  A wave of unease fell about him. “She is here, tonight. With Adrys’ daughter.”

  “Where?”

  “To the right of the fire, she is talking to a little girl.”

  At that moment, Najja stood up and made a cursory scan in their direction.

  “Bloody hell!” Wilkes uttered, shock blatantly apparent.

  Colin frowned. In all the time he’d known Wilkes he’d never heard him this disconcerted. Scrutinizing the man, he saw him slowly gain his wits.

  “What is wrong with you, Wilkes?”

  “It…that…Najja.”

  Her name was said on a soft sigh. Jealousy overtook him before he knew what happened. Eyes flickered between Wilkes and Najja. Her face gave nothing away; in fact she turned away back to the dancing. The image of Wilkes touching her...

  “How do you know her?” he growled, struggling not to wrap his hands around Wilkes’ neck.

  “I had heard…and seen…but assumed it to be naught but a rumor.” Disbelief and awe coated his words.

  “What are you going on about?” Now he was holding onto his control by a mere thread.

  “In India, I heard it, years ago. And again in a different place I saw her. She…is rumored to be an assassin.”

  He choked on the incredulity of such a claim. “Do not be daft.”

  “I swear, Colin. I have seen the end result of her work.”

  There was only honesty in Wilkes’ voice.

  “How so?” Colin didn’t want to believe it.