The Accidental Courtesan by Cheryl Ann Smith Page B

face burned as Brenna coughed lightly into her hand. From the light in his eyes, Noelle knew he found humor in her embarrassment. He’d been eavesdropping. It was another reason to keep him at arm’s length and practice avoidance. His sins grew with each encounter.
    Everyone knew Americans lived like savages. As his recent behavior proved, he was a perfect example of that theory. With a second chance to poke around his room, she’d likely find a deerskin breechcloth among his things. She knew from books that colonists wore animal hides as a matter of course, and the women indulged in snuff. They were a wild lot and best viewed from a distance.
    Her flush deepened. The image of him nearly naked, thighs exposed, bare-chested, wearing only a scrap of cloth to hide his manhood, made her weak-kneed. It was Brenna’s unladylike throat clearing that roused her from the beginning of a very hot daydream.
    â€œI’m Gavin Blackwell,” he said, and reached for Brenna’s hand. He pressed a kiss on her gloved knuckles. The lovely brunette smiled prettily. “And you are?”
    â€œMiss Brenna Harrington.” She recovered quickly and reached out to pull Noelle to her side. Her tight grip kept Noelle from fleeing. “This is my cousin, Noelle Harrington, Lady Seymour.”
    Gavin released Brenna’s hand and took Noelle’s before she could jerk it out of reach. He lowered his mouth to her fingers, never unlocking his gaze from hers. Thankfully, her gloves kept him from contact with her skin.
    Noelle fell into the vortex of his blue eyes. As he pressed his lips to her gloved knuckles, she felt a tingle spread up her arm. His warm gaze promised her much more than a casual press of his lips on her hand.
    â€œMy pleasure, Lady Seymour.”
    Beneath his attention, she felt bare, exposed. She knew he was recalling every second of their embraces, their kisses, with the same hunger she felt within herself. She wanted to slip into his arms and press her mouth to his, to feel his muscles beneath her hands, to see what other scandalous things he could teach her. And the light in his eyes told her that he was thinking of something else, too. Perhaps silently cursing Brenna’s presence?
    Noelle yanked her hand free, tripped over her gown’s hem, and wobbled slightly. Only embarrassment kept her upright.
    A flash of a smile lit his face. He nodded to Brenna, then turned back to Noelle. “If you will excuse me, ladies, my coach is waiting.”
    As quickly as he’d appeared, he was gone.
    Noelle’s knees quivered. She stumbled to the nearest bench and dropped gracelessly onto it. Brenna joined her on the smooth marble surface and took her hand.
    â€œThat man wants you desperately and won’t stop until he has you,” Brenna said simply, and squeezed Noelle’s fingertips. “You are in serious trouble.”
    Noelle looked helplessly at her cousin as her body shook under the strain of the stunning encounter. “Yes, I am.”

Chapter Five

    N oelle peered between the curtains, her stomach a series of hard knots. She felt stalked, watched, as if her privacy was no longer her own. In the three days since the party, she hadn’t left the house. In her rational mind, she knew the arrogant American (she refused to think of him any other way) had his shipyard to run and couldn’t spend his time lurking outside her home. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom.
    Gavin Blackwell’s intentions were clear. He wanted her, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had her: every bit of skin, every strand of hair, every part of her covered by her undergarments, all of her. He was prepared to press his attentions, against her wishes, until she was completely under his control.
    Maybe she should have one of the footmen jab around in the bushes with a stick to see if any cravat-wearing, canecarrying critters might tumble out.
    She put her hands