Seduction

Chapter 1

1

Bloody Hell.

Tristan Kingsley was in a dark spiral. Anger and confusion raged beneath his skin like wildfire. His mother had sent his carefully constructed plan toppling down like a house of cards when she’d announced her engagement to an American investment banker.

Her engagement wasn’t the worst part of the whole situation. No, the f*****g demons in hell were laughing at him for the ironic twist his destiny had just taken. Because five minutes ago, Katherine Roberts had walked through the door with her father, Clayton.

My Kat. The girl he’d ruthlessly pursued and sweetly seduced until she’d succumbed and let him take her to bed. The girl he’d f****d so hard she’d had trouble walking the next morning. The girl he’d opened up to about things he’d never shared with anyone. And he still hadn’t had enough of her to satisfy his obsession.

My stepsister. Future stepsister. And, two nights ago, they’d rammed his headboard into the wall so hard, it had left gouges in the wallpaper. He’d had rough, wild s*x before, but with her… She’d been so innocent, a bloody virgin, but she’d responded like a s*x goddess…

I can’t think about her anymore. How her body felt underneath me—skin to skin. How perfect she tasted. How she screamed out my name when I exploded inside of her…

Kat hadn’t moved from the doorway to the library of his mother’s townhouse. The moment she’d come in the door and recognized him she’d frozen. Her face pale, her lips pursed, and her gray eyes wide as saucers. She hadn’t known this was coming, just as he hadn’t.

It was a bloody nightmare.

They’d left Cambridge separately for their Christmas holidays, each facing the same situation. His mother had told him that she was in a relationship with someone, and Kat’s father had told her the same. Neither he nor Kat could have guessed that their parents had met in London and started dating. Or gotten engaged. It was a strange, and now damnable, coincidence. Of all the eligible men in London his mother could have met and fallen in love with, it had to be Kat’s father?

At twenty-five years old and working toward his Master’s in business, Tristan could afford little time for distractions, aside from the string of nameless girls he’d slept with before Kat. He had classes and the pressures of his father’s estate looming over him. That was the price he had to pay for being the future Earl of Pembroke.

Until he’d walked into the Pickerel Inn pub one night and his world had changed forever. Kat, a luscious, intoxicating first-year undergraduate, had walked up to the bar for a drink and they’d talked. Something had seemed to pull them together, like invisible strings. She’d leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him. The way she’d felt in his arms, her lips melding with his… In an instant he’d gone from a man who could have any woman he wanted to a man who wanted only her. She was nineteen, and so inexperienced, he wanted to drag her back to his bed and never let her leave until he’d shown her everything he knew about the art of s****l pleasure.

My obsession, my erotic fantasy. Mine. All mine.

At least she had been until his mum had blown his plans to hell with the news that Kat was going to be his stepsister. As a stepsister, a family relation, she’d be untouchable. Their parents simply wouldn’t allow it. He’d had plenty of encounters with protective fathers in the past when stories of women he’d seduced had come out in the papers. But Tristan had always held his ground, had never done the honorable thing and married any of those girls. It was just s*x. This wasn’t the Victorian era. If a woman went to bed with him, that was her choice and no father could demand Tristan that do anything afterward.

I’ve never been a saint. I certainly can’t be one now, not when I want Kat as badly as I do. But how was he going to get Kat all to himself if his mother and her father were watching over them both during the holidays? He’d have to find a way to keep their relationship a secret. It was the only solution. And if the paparazzi ever got wind of his affair with Kat, his father would have him executed in the square of the London Tower just to make a point.

Kat was completely unsuitable—at least she would be in his father’s eyes. And for the moment, his father still had a firm grip on Tristan’s future, including whom he could date. As an American with no titles, no connections, and no vast fortune, she offered nothing that his father would approve of. Tristan clenched his jaw. He despised that his father had so much control over his life, but that was how it had always been. As the only heir to the estate, he had a duty to the land and the people who worked on it to keep things afloat. His father still controlled the family purse strings, and Tristan knew he couldn’t abandon the estate.

Knowing his father would never approve of Kat didn’t stop Tristan from wanting her, and it certainly didn’t deter him from his intent to sleep with her again. It simply made him all the more aware that he’d have to be careful about how he got her back into his bed so that no parents could discover them.

His mother, Elizabeth, was still standing by Kat, and she made a tiny gesture with her head, encouraging him to come over to his future stepsister. All he wanted to do was walk over and kiss Kat senseless…but their parents were staring at him.

I ought to get out of here before I make an arse of myself.

How was he going to survive three weeks with Kat under the same roof and not touch her whenever he wanted?

“Tristan, don’t be rude. Stop sulking by the fireplace, come over here and say hello,” his mother hissed in admonishment.

He walked over to Kat and held out a hand, pretending they’d never met, never touched, never shared his bed, exploring each other’s bodies. It was harder than he expected to resist reacting to her. He smiled politely, fighting off the urge to chuckle when her pale cheeks blossomed with color.

She must be remembering, as he was, how it had felt when he’d pinned her down and made her beg for him to do a thousand dirty, erotic things to her. And he had, oh, he had. And that was making it so hard to keep from reacting with the intimacy he desired. There wouldn’t be a scorching kiss, no stroking of hands. Not while their parents watched them with hawk-like precision.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Kat.” He sucked in a breath as she slowly took his hand and shook it. Sparks of heat burst between their palms, that undeniable chemistry that drew him like a planet orbiting a star. Cosmic, inescapable. This was why he couldn’t walk away, why he had to touch her, keep her close to him. She was the first woman that had fascinated him both in bed and out.

She seemed to be trapped in a daze, their hands still connected. Her gray eyes were full of desire, but he could see she was trying to suppress it.

“Hi,” she said finally.

He could tell by her ashen face that she was only going to get out the one word and nothing else. Her full lips quivered, and he longed to haul her into his arms and kiss her, perhaps bite those lips playfully until she smiled again.

Why wasn’t she like every other girl he’d slept with? They’d been forgotten the moment they’d left his bed. A parade of pretty faces and nothing more. But he knew every freckle on Kat’s face, every curve of her tempting body, how her mouth felt as she’d explored his skin, eager, and yet new to the experience of s*x. How could he ever forget being with her? There was no way he’d give her up, not when there was so much left to discover between them.

They were both damned now.

“I’ll show Katherine to a guest room. You and Clayton can plan the evening while I see her settled,” Tristan offered, needing, hoping for one minute alone with her.

“Excellent idea, Tristan.” His mother’s beaming face made his body flood with a dark tide of guilt.

All he wanted was to talk to her. They needed a plan. Neither of their parents could ever find out they’d slept together. They had to keep everything secret.

“Follow me, Kat.” He almost reached for her hand, but caught himself just inches from her wrist. Pulling back his arm, he forced himself to keep his distance.

“Thank you, Tristan.” Kat’s father smiled, too, curling an arm around Lizzy’s waist.

Tristan swallowed hard and nodded, but didn’t linger. He didn’t want to endure public displays of affection involving his mother. Too bloody awkward.

Kat followed him out of the drawing room, closing the door behind her. The second the door was shut he grabbed her hand, wild inside with the need to touch her. He knew they shouldn’t continue this…whatever it was between them, but right now, as he held her hand, none of that mattered.

To hell with our parents. I want her.

“Tristan,” she whispered, her breath catching as he pulled her down the hall to the stairs that led to the upper floors.

“This way.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as they climbed the steps.

“Somewhere we can talk,” he muttered and tugged her into the nearest guest bedroom.

The instant they were alone inside the room, he shoved her against the closed door and gave in to his desire. Kissing her hard, he unleashed an explosion of lust and need that had made him hard the moment he’d seen her in the drawing room. He delved into her mouth, seeking her tongue, and she met him boldly, her lips just as eager. He caught her wrists and jerked them above her head, pinning them with one hand.

It felt so bloody good to kiss her again. How sweet she tasted, how soft and feminine she felt against his body. God, he’d missed this, and he’d only been without her a few days. Using his other hand, he stroked down her side, cupped her round arse, making her hips buck against his touch.

It had only been two days since they’d parted from his room in Cambridge. Two bloody days that had felt like an eternity without Kat in his arms. He’d wanted to see her before he left for London, but he’d had to leave right away. f**k, he needed to take her here, right now, against the door.

Panting, he rocked against her, relishing the little sounds of pleasure she made when he used his body to cage hers while they kissed. Each time his lips touched hers, he fell deeper into a trance of pleasure that silenced the world outside their shared breaths. There was never enough; he would always crave her with this wild madness. The American knew just what to do with her pink little tongue to make his c**k ache…

I’m going to lose my f*****g mind.

Their mouths finally parted, and Tristan rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he relished the control he had over her and the closeness of their bodies. It would be so easy to ravish her right here; she wanted it, too. The little minx was staring up at him with those silver-gray eyes, like polished moonstones gleaming with lust. The shivers racking her body made him all the more hungry to take her right there, but it was too much of a risk with their parents so close. Lord, he hated how clear that one thought was. Their parents were downstairs talking about wedding plans, and he was up here, ready to take his future stepsister to bed. Talk about scandalous. Sure, they weren’t blood related, but most people would turn a disapproving eye on this situation.

When he opened his eyes, he saw tears on Kat’s cheeks.

Tears?

Confusion jolted though him like an electric shock. He dropped his hand from her wrists, and she lowered her arms, wrapping them around herself.

“Kat, darling, what’s the matter?” He lifted a hand to touch her cheek, but she shied away and darted around him. When she put the bed between them, something hard knotted in his stomach. “Kat?”

“Tristan, how long have you known?” she demanded.

“Known what?”

“About our parents. How long have you known they were dating?” Silent accusations glittered in her eyes.

Kat thought he’d kept that from her? His heart kicked against his ribs. He wouldn’t lie to her, she had to know that. Tristan was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them.

“I didn’t know, I swear to you. Not until you walked in the door, and Mother said your name. I only knew my mother’s new fiancé had a daughter. She never mentioned a name. Kat, the odds of this happening…” He gestured around them. “That our parents would get together?” He began to pace, unable to stand still with all the pent-up energy crackling inside him. “Honestly, Kat, I didn’t know.” He paused, facing her.

Those damnable tears still covered her cheeks. There was nothing worse than watching a woman cry. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t undo whatever had hurt her. Moving toward her again, he reached out to cup her shoulders. Kat dodged his grasp.

“Why won’t you let me touch you?” That look of hurt in her eyes was killing him, and he couldn’t explain why. He needed to hold her.

“Tristan, our parents are engaged. Don’t you get it? We can’t be together. If my dad ever found us like this, he’d freak out. This has to stop.”

Stop? He couldn’t let her go. There was no chance of that.

“No, I—”

“I mean it, Tristan. I won’t jeopardize my father’s happiness. Not for good sex.”

“Great s*x,” he corrected.

Her little smile in response was melancholy. “Great s*x. It’s not going to happen again. Do you understand?” Her cheeks flushed, and her chin lifted in a show of strength. It was one of the things he loved about her, how strong she was, but he didn’t want her strong now, not when she was resisting what lay between them.

“I can handle your father, Kat,” he promised. “They would never have to know we’re together.” If Kat wanted to be with him, he would find a way to keep it a secret from their parents.

She drew in a fortifying breath and pulled her hair back from her face as she exhaled.

“It will only end badly. No matter what happens. They can never know about us, and we can’t ever do what we did again. We’re going to be brother and sister. Even if it’s just stepsiblings, that’s still…not okay. People will talk, and I don’t want that. Tell me you understand, and that you agree we have to stay away from each other.”

No. Every instinct inside him was shouting to deny her request. What they’d shared couldn’t be abandoned and couldn’t be thrown away just because it was forbidden.

“Kat, I want you. What happened between us, that doesn’t happen every day.” He took a step toward her, but she held up a hand.

Those tears shimmered like diamonds on her skin. Beautiful and shattering at the same time.

“Please, just go. I need some time alone.”

Alone? How was she going to be alone at a time like this? They were all trapped in the same house for three weeks. He didn’t want to leave her so she could cry by herself. He knew that was what she was going to do; the pain of her decision to end things between them was all over her face. Just like the last time, when she’d told him to get out of her dorm room.

Tristan weighed the options of trying to kiss her again, or at least hold her, but it didn’t seem likely he’d succeed. She’d raised her chin, and her kissable lips were set in a firm line. It would be better if he waited. Gave her time to breathe. Once she’d had time to cool off, he’d be able to reason with her. He didn’t like the idea of patience, but he sensed that if he pressed her now he might lose her. And he couldn’t lose her, not again.

“Very well,” he said, backing away. But it was a long moment before he was able to compose himself. He paused after opening the door. “Please don’t push me away, Kat.”

She didn’t look at him. That hit him like a punch to the gut. Stepping outside, he closed her door and leaned back against it. Tristan tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Tristan.” A masculine voice jerked him from his thoughts.

Kat’s father was standing there, hands in his pockets, watching him, his gaze penetrating. He was a man, Tristan thought, who would easily figure out if his daughter was being seduced by his future stepson.

If Tristan wanted to get Kat beneath him on a bed he’d have to be very stealthy.

“Mr. Roberts.” He nodded in greeting.

“Is my daughter all right?” Clayton asked, his brows knitted together. He walked up to Tristan, and Tristan had a distinct impression the other man was measuring him up, while trying not to make his observations too overt. Just as Tristan was doing.

“She’s a bit overwhelmed, I believe.” Not a lie exactly.

Clayton Roberts cleared his throat and shuffled his shoes on the carpet. “Ahh, I knew this would be a shock to her and I should’ve waited for all of this, given her more time, but…” He paused and raised his head. “I love your mother very much and didn’t want to wait.”

The man was open and honest, and Tristan couldn’t hate him for that. His mother had lived a hellish existence while married to his father. She deserved a good man, one who would love her the way his father had failed to.

“Then you’d better take good care of her.” It wasn’t a threat, but he’d be happy to make it one if Clayton didn’t.

The American simply laughed. Did they always act so odd about such serious things? Kat certainly did.

“I will,” Clayton promised. “It’s not every day a man is given a second chance at happiness.”

“Good.” Tristan didn’t really know what to say. He felt awkward talking to this stranger who would become his stepfather. He was used to being in a position of power around other men, but this wasn’t a situation he could have prepared for.

Fucking hell. When Carter found out about this… His best friend would laugh clear through next week.

“I’ll check on Kat,” Clayton said, offering a warm but hesitant smile. “Why don’t you let your mother know we’ll be down for dinner later?”

“I will,” Tristan replied. With a sinking feeling deep in his chest he walked away from Kat’s door.