Seduction:Her British Stepbrother(5)

Just when I thought life didn't challenge me anymore … He chuckled.

"What's amused you, sweetheart?" His mother raised one elegant brow. As a  boy, that tone and questioning gaze had made him confess many sins. Now  he was made of sterner stuff.

"I was merely thinking of Carter and Celia." He rarely lied to his mother, but this was necessary.

If she ever learned of his interest in Kat, his mother could upset all  his plans. She would swoop in and carry Kat away to safety, far out of  his reach. She'd never been blind to his activities. Along with most of  London, she'd seen him in the papers and knew his levels of debauchery.

"You know," his mother paused, "you should give Kat a tour of the house  tonight." His mother rose from her chair, resting one hand on the top of  the wingback. "I want her to feel comfortable here. After we get  married, they'll be moving in, since Clayton's flat is too tiny for all  of us. Besides"-his mother sighed wistfully-"I love this house. It's a  relief Clayton doesn't mind my choosing my place over his."

Tristan wondered how Kat would feel about moving in here during the  school holidays. He remembered that night in Kat's dorm room when she'd  explained why she loved books so much and how she'd never had a place to  settle down for long. They were friends she could take with her, she'd  said, friends she'd never had to say good-bye to. She'd confessed this  in the dim, warm confines of her little bed that first night, when  they'd slept together without sex. Even though he'd wanted to bed her  more than anything, he'd bided his time, enjoyed feeling her in his  arms, controlling their first foray into the land of pleasure without  actually getting inside her body the way he'd wanted most.

He'd wound his arms around her, and something deep in his chest had  twisted painfully as he listened to her open her heart. It hadn't  lessened the raging lust to possess this girl, but it had softened that  animal hunger, deepened it … He'd held her closer, tighter, wanting to  ease his ache and her own. Unable to resist getting close to her, he'd  shared with her his love of maps, and the way stained glass filled him  with strong, powerful emotions.

Yes, there was much he and Kat had yet to learn about each other, but he would make sure they would have the time.

He'd never wanted to be with just one woman before, but he was starting  to see the appeal of having a relationship of some kind with her. The  more he learned about Kat, the more she learned about him, the more  intense their bed play was. He craved the way bedding her made him feel.  Powerful, exhilarated, uninhibited, and completely free, yet bound to  her at the same time.                       
       
           



       

I need to be careful. My taking Kat to bed could ruin my mother's happiness.

Tristan sat up on the couch and studied his mother. When his father had  left the pair of them alone for weeks at a time while he'd seen to his  duties on the estate or handled matters in Parliament, she'd brought  Tristan to Fox Hill. After he'd grown up, she'd started spending more  time in London at the town house she'd acquired after the divorce. It  offered her a way to stay in the middle of town and not feel so isolated  while she rebuilt her life.

He'd grown to love this house and Fox Hill as much as she did. For his  mother to suggest that someone besides him would live here was her way  of opening up and showing the world she was ready to live, now that love  was back in her life. Tristan couldn't help but admire her.

"Promise me you'll be nice to Kat. Clayton says she doesn't have many  friends because they've moved so often. Neither of them are used to this  way of living either, with cooks, servants, and drivers. As her older  brother-"

"Stepbrother," he cut in. That distinction was vitally important, given what he planned to do to her in his bed.

"Er … yes," his mother nodded. "Stepbrother. She would benefit from having  someone like you to show her London and introduce her to people. It  would be perfect during the holidays to take her to see all the sights."

"I think that is a lovely idea, Mum." He grinned so broadly that his  cheeks hurt as he leaned back into the couch and crossed his hands  behind his head.

Take Kat about London? His mother had unwittingly provided him the  perfect way to slowly entice Kat back into his bed. He'd have to pretend  he had no intention of seducing her, though. He would play the polite,  friendly stepbrother she wanted him to be. For now.

You will be mine again, sweet Kat.

* * *



Kat had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body when she heard the doorknob rattle.

"Just a minute!" It was probably her dad trying to check on her.

The brass knob rattled again.

"Almost done," she said as she tucked the towel more firmly about her  body, mentally smacking herself for forgetting to pack her long robe.

When she unlocked the door, it flew open instantly. A shirtless Tristan  stood there, holding a towel, looking down at her with those hypnotic  blue-green eyes.

Her eyes, without approval from her brain, swept down over his body: the  sculpted abs, the indentations of his pelvic muscles, and the way his  jeans hung low on his hips. Hips she'd held and dug her nails into the  other night as he'd pounded into her. Her lower body twisted and  clenched with sudden desire at the mere memory of his raw, powerful  possession of her. She couldn't forget the feel of his body, pressing  her down, his cock filling her until she couldn't breathe. The way he'd  owned every part of her.

Damn. How had she convinced herself that avoiding him was a good idea?  Right now she wanted to drop the towel and beg him to take her, damn the  consequences.

"Are you finished?" His tone was pleasant. No hint of fire, no branding  scorch of his gaze … just politeness. He was doing exactly what she'd  asked him to do. Treat her like a stepsister he'd only just met. Before  today's awful revelation of their parents' engagement, he would have  smirked at her, teased, and tried to steal the towel … A pang of longing  for the playful part of him swept through her. God, she missed that.

What would it take to win one little smile from him, one that was meant for her, and not tempered by his polite distance.

I asked for this. It didn't make her feel any better.

"I'm done." Heat rushed to her face from embarrassment at her inner  thoughts. Thankfully he had no idea how conflicted she was feeling right  now. Or how her body was reacting to being so close to him and being  denied his touch. Like a thirsty woman crawling across a Saharan desert  and glimpsing an island oasis only to discover it was a mirage.

He made a low, gruff noise, not exactly a response, but it sent shivers  through her. She couldn't forget the sounds he'd made in bed two nights  ago. He'd been half-animal, growling, nipping, showing her a rough side  to passion, one she knew she would always crave. Tristan had pierced a  dark part of her sexual side, exposing it to the light, and she couldn't  deny that it existed, nor did she want to.

He slid past her, their bodies brushed in the narrow space of the  doorway. Heat exploded through her, and she froze, trying to control her  reaction to him.

Tristan froze, too, their bodies pressed close. His warm breath fanned  her cheeks and his natural masculine scent enveloped her. Memories of  their night together came flooding back, no matter how she tried to keep  it out.                       
       
           



       

He lifted his hand to her cheek, pausing a second before he would have  touched her. She met his gaze, her breaths shallow as his lips twitched  in a ghost of a smile. Then he brushed his knuckles over her skin. Fire  rippled in the wake of that "barely there" caress. Every part of her was  aware of him and his closeness.

Would it be so hard to keep a relationship between them a secret from their parents? Maybe they could …

"Please … " she begged, unsure of what she really wanted.

"Please, what?" he replied, in that dark, low tone that made her purr  inside like a cat in heat. He slowly backed her into the wall next to  the shower, closing the door behind him. He placed his hands on either  side of her head, caging her in, and lowered his face to hers.

A feather-light, teasing kiss. A nip at her bottom lip. She clenched her  thighs together, feeling the rush of wet heat in response to his subtle  aggression. How could he affect her like this? His touch, his kiss,  sent her body into riotous waves of longing for him.

He nuzzled her neck, licking and nibbling on the sensitive spots that sent electric pulses from her head to her toes.

Kat grabbed his shoulders, digging her fingers into his hot, bare skin.  The towel around her body stretched against her breasts as she struggled  to control her breathing.