Finessing the Contessa Read online

  Damn it, he needed to keep his mind on the game.

  He saw it when it was almost too late to stop the rot. The Steinitz variation. Ah, very clever. He was able to save his position by advancing his rook two squares and trapping her king. “Check.”

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Diavolo! I thought you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I almost didn’t.”

  “Mind elsewhere, Rob?” Charles asked innocently.

  “Go to the devil, Charles.”

  Charles roared with laughter as he strolled away from them. “I very likely will.”

  “Now, what to do?” she mused.

  She moved a piece but Rob didn’t notice which one or how it affected his position because he became conscious of something gliding across his foot. A slipperless, stockinged foot to be precise. Perdition, did the woman have no shame?

  “Your move, my lord,” she said sweetly.

  “Don’t start anything with me unless you plan to finish it,” he said softly.

  “You told me to go with my instincts.”

  “Hmm, yes I did.” Rob treated her to a challenging smile. “Perhaps I overplayed my hand.”

  She canted her head and returned his smile with a sinfully tempting one of her own. “Not afraid, are you, my lord?”

  Rob wanted to growl at her. He also wanted to kiss that smile off her lips and then put her across his knee, lift her skirts and spank her bottom for being such a tease. He might very likely do both of those things before the night was out, but right now he had a game to win and distractions to ignore. He made a move that worsened her position—and his—because that stockinged foot was now creeping tantalizingly slowly up his calf.

  Rob’s mind froze. He could think of nothing other than the progress of that damned foot and its intended target, now throbbing painfully within the tight confines of his breeches.

  “Do you wish to up the stakes, my lady?” he asked.

  She cut off the trap he’d set for her with her rook. “I am very satisfied with the terms of our wager, my lord.”

  Well, that made one of them.

  Rob thought ahead several moves, doing his best to pretend that her toe hadn’t now worked its way dangerously close to his groin. He could see that she intended to attack his king as stealthily as she was attacking his person and made the appropriate defensive move.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said quietly.

  “I’m almost afraid to ask why not.”

  With a serene smile she landed her toes squarely on his erection, and left them there. Rob, unable to do anything about it other than continue with the game, shot her a warning glance and simultaneously suppressed a groan.

  “All actions have consequences, my lady. Are you sure you’re ready for them?”

  “Never more so.”

  Rob moved his own rook, worsening her position. Her toes wiggled against his cock, which was now rock hard, and this time a groan did slip past his guard. This was madness. Even so, his legs fell open, giving her easier access to his manhood.

  “Not fair,” he said tersely.

  “Whatever it takes,” she replied sweetly.

  “Those words will come back to haunt you.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Her toes worked their way along the length of his cock. Her eyes widened, as though impressed with what they felt, but he wasn’t about to fall for such an obvious ruse. Besides, two could play at this game of distractions. Rob snapped his legs together again, trapping her foot precisely where it was. He dropped one hand below the table and rubbed it along her calf. She gasped and tried to remove her foot, but Rob wouldn’t allow it.

  “Something wrong?” He worked his hand a little higher.

  “Hmm, what?” Her faced flushed. “Oh no, everything’s perfectly satisfactory.”

  “Are you hot, my lady?” he asked with an innocent smile that earned him a scowl.

  “Not in the least, I assure you.”

  “Liar!” he said softly, running his hand higher still.

  She gasped. “Don’t, I can’t—”

  “I warned you not to start this.”

  “Then let’s finish it.” She met his gaze and held it.

  Rob was unsure what she referred to but when she dug her toes hard into his groin, he could take no more and ended the game in two moves. He opened his legs as he did so and the contessa withdrew her foot. She appeared bemused as she offered him her hand and her congratulations simultaneously.

  “Well, that was a close-run thing,” Charles said obliquely as he returned to their table.

  Rob couldn’t have agreed more.

  “You finessed the contessa, Forster,” one of the other gentlemen said. “Not terribly sporting, that.”

  “I wouldn’t be treated any differently just because I’m a woman,” the contessa replied.

  “Just as well, because Forster doesn’t take prisoners. At least, not when it comes to chess.”

  The contessa stood. “So it would seem, but he’s not seen the last of me.”

  “Count on it,” Rob said decisively.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. It has been most stimulating.” She looked directly at Rob as she spoke.

  “That’s one way of describing it,” he said beneath his breath, standing along with the rest of the gentlemen.

  “You play a tight game, m’lady,” Charles said.

  “Obviously not tight enough since both you and Lord Robert got the better of me.”

  “This time, perhaps, but we both know that one game means nothing. You’ll have all day tomorrow to gain your revenge.”

  “Oh, that I fully intend to do,” she said breezily, heading for the door.

  “We look forward to it.”

  “As do I.” Her eyes drifted towards Rob’s lower body. “And I think it only fair to warn you, Lord Robert, that I have the measure of you now.”

  Rob could do nothing other than smile at her, when all he really wanted to do was chastise her in all sorts of pleasurable ways for being such a tease.

  “If you will excuse me,” she said. “It’s late and I’d like to be fully alert tomorrow. I bid you good night, gentlemen.”

  And in a swirl of petticoats and a waft of gardenias she was gone.

  * * *

  “Da non crederci!”

  Electra muttered the phrase repeatedly as she returned to her chamber almost at a run. Sanity had returned and with it came total disbelief at the way in which she’d just conducted herself. What form of temporary madness had made her act so out of character? She slowed her pace, her face still heated as she tried to reason her actions through.

  Something about the heady atmosphere that prevailed whenever she was anywhere near Lord Robert robbed her of all common sense, filling her instead with an overwhelming urge to act recklessly. Having shared her secrets—well, most of them—produced an intoxicating feeling of liberation, tempting her to follow through with her wild impulses.

  His sophistication, impeccable manners and persuasive charm would make any woman with eyes in her head and passion in her soul throw caution to the wind, so he only had himself to blame if she’d overstepped the mark. The way he looked at her, with such deep intensity, as though she was the most fascinating woman in the entire universe, was most unsettling and made her forget herself.

  He agitated dormant feelings deep inside her—feelings that made her rashly toss a gauntlet at his feet. She knew he’d pick that gauntlet up. Ladies didn’t provoke gentlemen of his ilk without expecting consequences, did they?

  She dawdled outside her door, taking a moment to regain her breath and her composure. Both commodities had been in precious short supply the entire evening. She’d planned to distract Lord Robert with her fo
ot, and yet he’d swiftly turned the tables on her, damn him. She should have listened when he warned her he could be dangerous. She should also have known better than to try and get the better of him but, perdition, it had been fun! And fun was something else she hadn’t known much about recently.

  When she felt as ready as she would ever be, Electra opened her door and prepared herself to face Luci. She had been maid to Electra’s mother, had known Electra all her life and probably understood her mistress better than she understood herself. She’d know immediately there was something different about her and would demand an explanation. Electra wasn’t sure if she could provide one.

  “How did it go?”

  “What do you mean?” Electra asked sharply.

  “The chess, of course.” Luci frowned. “Whatever did you think I meant?”

  “It was fine.”

  Luci placed her hands on her ample hips. “Is that all you have to say about it? You usually give me Chapter and verse. What happened? Did you lose?”

  “I won two and lost two.”

  “That don’t sound like you.”

  “I was distracted.” Electra threw herself onto a stool as soon as Luci had helped her out of her gown.

  “Aye, well, now that Lord Robert has offered to help you with that Maynard brute, you don’t need to let anything distract you.”

  But I want to be distracted.

  Luci took the pins from Electra’s hair and attacked it with a brush. Electra waited for the barrage of questions, but to her astonishment Luci said nothing more. She’d been highly critical of Lord Robert, especially since his man had all but frog-marched her from the corridor and held her prisoner, as Luci put it, in the kitchen. Luci had eventually insisted upon going in search of Electra, convinced that she’d been abducted, or worse.

  Since explaining Lord Robert’s offer of help, Luci’s entire attitude towards him had changed and he could do no wrong. Electra flashed a rueful grin. Not many people managed to impress her curmudgeonly maid but it seemed his lordship had already won her over.

  “You can relax now. Let Lord Robert sort things out for you. You don’t need to be dashing all over the place, trying to steal secret documents.” Luci puffed out her ample chest. “I’ve never heard such nonsense, and if that Maynard person was here, I’d tell him as much in no uncertain terms.”

  “I’ll relax when Vincenzo is safely returned to me, not before.”

  “I know you yearn for your brother, lamb.”

  Not just for my brother.

  Electra forced herself not to dwell on the loss of her beloved son. She absolutely refused to think about that cowlick curl of his that never would lie flat, no matter what she tried. Luci’s chatter helped to distract her but Electra barely heard what she said and kept her responses short.

  Eventually Luci left her and Electra curled up on the chaise, wrapped her robe tight around her body, and waited for Lord Robert to come to her. She knew he would come, even though he hadn’t actually said as much. She had provoked him, and what happened when he got here she would leave to fate. Well, fate and the dictates of her body which, already fizzing with anticipation, appeared to have a few ideas of its own.

  Electra had desired Lord Robert since that first unconventional meeting in his bedchamber. With the passage of time, that desire had only intensified into a raging lust that probably accounted for her behaviour over the chessboard. She had been celibate for far too long but Lord Robert could alter that situation with very little effort on his part.

  When more than two hours passed and there was no sign of him, Electra felt quite out of charity with him. He shouldn’t make promises—or threats, or whatever it was that he’d actually made—if he had no intention of following through. This was no time to be honourable.

  The fire had dwindled and she shivered, adding a shawl over her robe. She would give him thirty minutes more, and then he could go hang. Presumably he was being gallant and waiting until the household settled before coming to her. Bah, Italian men wouldn’t allow such trivial concerns to deter them.

  Electra actually fell asleep on the chaise. When she awoke an hour later, the fire had almost died completely, she was frozen to the core and no one had visited her. Thoroughly humiliated, Electra crawled into bed but refused to allow herself the indulgence of crying herself to sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rob spent the next two hours playing chess against Charles—and losing. His concentration was shot to pieces. The only place he wished to be was in the contessa’s bedchamber, accepting the invitation she’d sent him with those damned toes of hers. The reasons to resist suddenly seemed inconsequential.

  Even so, he would resist. He had to. His desire for Contessa Falzone was in danger of clouding his judgement. If he went anywhere near her in his present state of heightened awareness, passion would win out over discretion and then how would he face Hal, having literally slept with a potential enemy?

  When Charles called it a night, Rob sat down to write a note to Hal which he’d have Bowker despatch by express at first light. The contessa had told him where she and her brother had been living in London. Rob had memorised the direction so Hal could have the premises checked out. There had to be servants there. It would be interesting to learn what they knew about their master’s sudden disappearance—if he really had disappeared. In a perverse sort of way Rob hoped that was the case. He didn’t wish Falzone any harm, of course, but he did need sufficient independent collaboration to satisfy Hal that the contessa was telling the truth.

  His own satisfaction could be achieved far more easily. She must wonder why he hadn’t gone to her. By now she would be feeling slighted and humiliated. She didn’t deserve that. All he had to do was step down the corridor, knock on her door and explain why...

  No.

  Rob didn’t trust himself to go anywhere near her. He resorted to brandy and drank until he was incapable of rational thought, much less carrying through with his baser desires. He cursed frequently as the fiery liquid warmed his belly and froze his heart. Hal and his blasted affairs of state had a lot to answer for.

  Rob awoke with a raging headache and no sense of righteousness for having behaved honourably. He was short-tempered with Bowker, who wisely refrained from asking any questions about his master’s state of mind.

  “Have this letter sent by express to the Hall,” Rob said shortly.

  Bowker disappeared to carry out that errand while Rob considered the day ahead. A whole day of playing chess against some of the best players in the country ought to appeal to his competitive spirit. Instead, all he could think about was facing the contessa and trying to explain the unexplainable.

  As it transpired, no opportunity arose. She was cool towards him and even when they faced one another across the chessboard, she didn’t respond to any of his comments that even bordered on the personal. She looked tired and her eyes were red-rimmed. She’d been crying.

  Over him?

  The possibility appalled Rob and he’d never liked himself less.

  He got through the day, and the evening, somehow. And then a new morning dawned and it was time for them to leave. Bowker busied himself with the arrangements for the luggage and Rob pondered the awkwardness of travelling alone with the contessa when she didn’t seem to want to speak to him.

  Once all the preparations were complete, Rob shrugged into his driving coat and strode down the stairs. Charles and Sophia were there to send him on his way. He thanked them profusely for their hospitality, wondering where the contessa could be since there was no sign of her and no waft of gardenias to tell him where to look. She joined him a short time later but restricted her greeting to a curt good morning, unwilling to even look at him. He helped her into his travelling chaise and put a rug over her knees. She thanked him distantly but stared straight ahead.

  R
ob had no idea what thoughts passed through her lovely head as they waved goodbye to Charles and Sophia and Rob encouraged his team forward. All attempts at conversation, remarks about the passing scenery, on the weather, on her comfort, were met with polite rebuffs. In the end Rob gave up trying and concentrated on driving.

  By the time they reached the inn where he planned to break their journey for the first night, Rob had decided that matters couldn’t continue thus. They had two more days to look forward to on the road, and they needed to clear the air between them before they arrived at the Hall.

  He and the contessa ate in a private dining room. When the meal was complete and the servant had cleared the dishes, the contessa declared that she would retire immediately.

  “Remain for a moment, signora,” he said. “We have matters to discuss.”

  “What matters?”

  “I think you know.”

  Her cheeks coloured. “I made a mistake.”

  “Possibly, but not the one you imagine.”

  She examined her hands. “What do you mean?”

  “You wanted me to come to you?”

  “No...I just thought...that is to say—”

  “I wanted to be with you very much but it would have been for the wrong reasons,” he said softly.

  “You think I was trying to entice you with my body because I’ve been untruthful.” Anger flared in her eyes. “That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t believe me. I poured my heart out to you, told you the absolute truth, and yet—”

  “And yet you offered yourself to me.” Rob was handling this all wrong. He knew it and hated himself for embarrassing her, for allowing her to see that he doubted her still. “I don’t believe you’re normally so free with your favours. What else was I supposed to think?”

  He expected her to explode, to be insulted by his words. Instead, the anger drained out of her and she simply looked tired and defeated.