A Gentleman Never Tells (Belmore Square #2) Read Online Jodi Ellen Malpas

Categories Genre: Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: Belmore Square Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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‘Stop it,’ she breathes, her breath strangled. ‘I beg you.’

‘Why?’ I ask, every part of me tingling in response to her closeness too. We are reactive, us two. Together, we are reactive to one another, and, my God, it is utterly addictive. Unstoppable. ‘Afraid you may succumb to the power and prove I am right?’

‘Right about what?’

‘That our night together was the most incredible night. For both of us.’

‘And what of the other nights you have shared with plenty of other women?’

‘A gentleman never tells,’ I whisper. ‘But with you,’ – I dip and place my lips on her bare shoulder – ‘It was like nothing I have ever been blessed to experience before.’ I kiss my way to her neck, inhaling her scent, her need, her want. ‘I must have it again.’

She moans, her body folding, her head tilting to give me better access to her skin. ‘And if I were to refuse?’

I smile against her flesh, lick it, bite it, suck it, feeling her shakes. ‘I dare you to try.’

She whimpers and spins round, throwing her arms over my shoulders and pulling me onto her mouth, kissing me frantically. What a pointless few minutes we have just wasted. ‘I no longer want to try and resist you,’ she says around my mouth, her pace and vigour relentless. ‘For it is exhausting.’

I lift her from her feet and carry her to the desk, placing her on the edge and take her to her back, feeling her legs and all the material of her skirt wrap around me, as I try to reason with myself. This is not the time or the place! God be damned, anyone could walk in at any moment. I pray they don’t. Please don’t, for I will certainly go mad if I do not have her again. And as if he has heard my prayers and wants to stamp all over them, Johnny’s booming voice interupts me.

‘Where is he?’ he bellows, and I shoot up, breathless, disorientated. ‘I swear, I will kill him.’

I stare down at Taya who looks as dazed as I expect I do, but despite my muddle, I manage to comprehend something. Something rather worrying. ‘Jesus Christ, they are sending you away.’ I quickly pull her up from the desk. ‘Your brothers are sending you away to keep you away from me, aren’t they?’

‘Sampson was waiting for me when I left here the other morning. We argued. I suppose he told Johnny and he has assumed …’

‘But the Duke was just here,’ I say. ‘Demanding I halt in my endeavours to discover who the highwaywoman is.’ He was also at Hampstead with me, and he murmured not one word about Taya.

‘I suppose he and Sampson have only just seen each other. Sampson is not an early riser, and Johnny was out on his horse before nine. Why do you so desperately want to know who she is, anyway?’ she asks, sounding … jealous? She is jealous.

I smile, enchanted. ‘She is merely part of a business deal I have with a charming fellow called Fleming.’

‘Oh, I see. That is all?’

‘Yes, that is all.’

‘Melrose!’ The Duke’s booming voice echoes around the house, sounding closer.

‘Oh bloody hell,’ I wipe my lips while observing how pink and swollen Taya’s are. ‘Did you tell them where you were?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Then we must deny it.’

‘Naturally.’

Natural. Is it? I pause for thought. Perhaps I shouldn’t since time, it would seem, is not on my side.

‘Melrose!’ Johnny yells, the thuds of his boots getting closer.

‘You must hide,’ I say, taking her arm and leading her to the masses of taffeta drapes that frame the window and placing her behind, arranging the material to ensure it disguises her body behind it. ‘And keep quiet.’ I hurry to my desk, slump down into the chair, and collect my paper, settling in and wiping the panic from my face, a moment before the door flies open and Johnny appears, his stance wide, on the threshold of the study. I look over my paper casually, eyebrows high. ‘Did you miss me?’

He scowls, casting a suspecting eye around the study, his chest puffy. ‘You’re alone.’

‘Very observant of you.’ I fold the paper and place it down, all so calmly, I really have no idea how I’m achieving such nonchalance. ‘Why, is your matter one of a private nature?’

‘Yes.’ He steps in, slams the door, and levels me with quite the frightening glare. ‘You will stay away.’

‘From whom?’

‘Do not play games with me, Melrose. You may be my wife’s brother, but I will not think twice about snapping you in two.’

‘A little extreme, don’t you think? What am I supposedly guilty of to warrant such a ferocious threat?’

‘You know fine well.’

‘Do I?’ Yes, deny, deflect, lie. Whatever it takes. At least, until I fathom how to deal with this because I have tried to resist her and I’m failing miserably.



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