If He's Tempted (Wherlocke #5)

“If you wish my opinion on it, I do not believe you are a drunkard. That is often a thing I can easily sense about a person, despite how well some can hide it from others. I do not sense that weakness in you. I can, however, get you something else to drink, if you would prefer it.”


He shook his head and took a drink. The heat of the brandy quickly spread through his body, pushing aside the numbing effect of shock. By the time he finished the drink, the shock that had held him so tightly was gone but the pain of the knowledge he now had still lingered. He studied the empty glass and was relieved, however, as a certainty gripped him. It told him that he would not be looking for peace through the thick cloud of too much drink this time and he set the glass down on the table.

“I knew my father was a faithless swine,” he said quietly, “but I never heard talk of any bastards being bred. Considering the number of beds he played in that was remarkably blind of me. Even blinder of me to live amongst brothers, to allow them to serve me and mine, and not even once recognizing them for who they really were.”

“And why should you?”

“Because my father was feckless in all he did. At some time in my life it should have occurred to me that he might carry such feckless behavior into the beds, hedgerows, and taverns he frequented.” He grimaced. “He bred six children upon my mother, after all. Three when he was a robust young man and three when he was an aging roué whose every sin was carved into his face and body.”

“Most of my kinsmen are clever fellows, cautious in many things, yet most of them can also claim an illegitimate child or two.” She placed her hand over his tightly clenched one where it rested against his thigh. “The only sure way to avoid breeding a child is not to bed a woman.”

“Ah, but your relations do not hide the fact that they have children, claiming and caring for them as best they can. In fact, no one in your family attempts to hide those children away and they certainly do not put their children into service at their own residences.”

Olympia tilted her head, leaning closer so that she could smile directly at him. “You have met the children Penelope cared for. Can you see any of them in service to anyone?”

Brant smiled at the thought. “No. Never. I recall tales of young Hector when he played the page for the Lady Clarissa Hutton-Moore. If not for her physical abuse of the boy, the whole interlude would have been the source for many a hearty laugh.”

She laughed and the warmth of her breath caressed his face. Brant was surprised at how swiftly his lust stirred to life. His fingers itched to be buried in her thick, black hair, only lightly confined by a ribbon that matched her beautiful eyes, and tumbling in long, heavy waves to her slender waist. There was the glint of lingering amusement brightening her eyes. Her full lips were parted slightly as she gave in to her amusement, and, suddenly, he just had to kiss her.

When he leaned toward her and put his mouth on hers, Olympia’s amusement fled beneath a wave of heat. She knew she should pull away from him. It was too soon to act upon what he made her feel, too soon to be sure in her own mind that she wanted to explore the attraction between them to its fullest. Yet, she could not find the strength to move.

Her whole body softened and she pressed against him as he wrapped his arms around her. She readily opened her mouth in response to the light push of his tongue. The way he stroked the inside of her mouth sent heat flooding throughout her body. His hands threaded through her hair only added to that hot need that swept over her.

Olympia had enough sense left to realize that she felt no fear. She felt only want and need. A greedy desire to take even more pleasure from this man. It was not until he moved, his elbow knocking over the glass on the table, that she gained enough strength to retreat from the heady desire he had filled her with. She placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed. The fact that he immediately eased his hold on her only added to her belief that she could trust this man to treat her with care and respect.

She stared into his eyes, the gray darkened almost to black by his desire. It was heady to have such a man show such passion for her. Olympia liked the way it made her feel to have such a man want her. She now knew why she had felt the pinch of envy when she saw how Ashton looked at Penelope.