Less than Honourable

By Emma Wildes

Jason Culver is aristocratic, proper, and very much obsessed with his children's nanny to his chagrin. His wants to ignore his attraction, but can't seem to resist it, and when he finally succumbs the results are combustible.

Alicia Alton is in love with her employer. No, she isn't of the same class, it's a hopeless passion if there ever was one, and she's a complete fool. However, she finds desire overcomes her inhibitions and moreover, though scandal lurks on the horizon, she can't deny the man she never dreamed would be less than honourable...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: Dec 9, 2007
• ISBN: 9781906328948

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Less Than Honourable

ISBN #978-1-906328-94-8

©Copyright Emma Wildes 2008

Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright January 2008

Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

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This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

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Published in 2008 by Total-e-bound eBooks 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

Warning:  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.  This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

LESS THAN HONOURABLE

Emma Wildes

Dedication

For Betty Jo Schuler with affection.

Chapter One

     The ball flew across the lawn and landed in the pond amidst shrieks of laughter. From the terrace overlooking the rolling lawn, Jason Culver, the eighth Marquess of Romley watched as his young son attempted to dive in fearlessly to retrieve it, captured at the last second by his attentive nanny. Miss Alton carried him a safe distance from the water, set him on the grass and ruffled his dark curls in a reassuring gesture. She proceeded to remove her shoes and stockings and lift her skirts to reveal dainty ankles and smooth calves and waded in to get the errant ball herself.

Fascinating.

     Is it too early for a brandy?

     Sprawled in a chair by an ornate iron table topped with glass, Jason glanced up and saw his younger brother stroll across the flagstones. Vincent expertly balanced two glasses in one hand and held the decanter in the other, a talent that undoubtedly came from much practice.

     Dryly, Jason acknowledged, You must have read my mind. Actually, I was rather thinking I could use a stiff drink. Good afternoon, Vince. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?

     It is indeed, but it isn’t like you to notice the weather. Vincent dropped into a chair and poured amber liquid into two glasses. Usually you stay cooped up in your study all day.

     I’m just taking a small break. You always harp at me that I work too hard, so here I am, enjoying a few minutes of leisure while I watch the children play in the sunshine.

     Only a year apart in age, they knew each other very well. Vincent’s eyes narrowed at his sharp tone and he took a small sip of his brandy. Don’t get defensive. I know managing your different financial interests takes a lot of time and I do think you work at it at little too diligently. I’ve said so many times. My observation was not a criticism. Why would I object in any way to you sitting in the sun for a few minutes?

     Bloody hell, he had sounded defensive and that would never do. Jason idly lifted his drink in an effort to seem nonchalant. Sorry if I sounded abrupt.

     His brother elevated a dark brow. Can I venture a guess as to what might be the cause of both your current state of tension and your presence here on the terrace? His gaze went pointedly to where Miss Alton stood in attendance as both boys, Trevor, who was four, and Carlton, a year younger, wrestled in the grass. Nearby, Patricia sat on a blanket with her doll and miniature tea set, her long dark hair drawn neatly back in a bow and her pink ruffled dress primly around her.

     His daughter, at seven, was at least sweet-tempered, where as the two boys were positive hellions. Jason had no idea how the remarkable Miss Alton managed to keep them from constantly damaging each other and everything else in their path.

     He was very lucky she’d applied for the position, even if it had plunged him into a small personal hell.

     No, he said, lifting his glass to his mouth and murmuring over the rim, "you may not venture a guess."

     Predictably Vincent ignored him. Sinking lower in his chair and crossing his booted feet carelessly at the ankle, he watched as the young woman in question separated the two boys and distracted them by tossing the wet ball across the lawn. She’s very competent.

     Yes. Jason couldn’t argue that.

     And damned beautiful.

     Unfortunately he couldn’t argue with that either. Yes.

     I thought you might have noticed. Vincent rubbed his lean jaw and said thoughtfully, Rarely do you see women that slender with such full breasts. Her hair also, is such an unusual colour, not blond and not red, but something in between. Throw in that creamy skin and those beautiful blue eyes—

     I doubt somehow she would appreciate us sitting here analyzing her physical attributes.

     I was being complimentary.

     Vincent’s smile was intended to be innocent but since Jason knew full well when it came to women his sibling was less than angelic, he gave him a sour look. I doubt she would feel that way if she knew you pointed out the size of her breasts.

     As if you haven’t already noticed. Let’s face it, Jason, you want to fuck her.

     That’s enough, Vince.

     Don’t you? His brother’s grin was unrepentant over the crude word.

     He did, that was the problem. Fantasies about being between those long lovely legs he glimpsed just a few minutes ago kept him awake at night. Jason pictured her glorious breasts in his hands, her nipples in his mouth, his cock buried deep inside delicious wet heat as he moved in long, hard thrusts…

     Jason growled, For God’s sake we are talking about my children’s nanny. An innocent young woman living in my household, essentially under my protection. The subject is closed.

     Although she’s properly deferential and demure, she looks at you the same damned way if you haven’t noticed. You’ve lived like a monk since Sarah died three years ago. It’s no wonder you’re tense as a bowstring since the arrival of our beauteous nanny.

     I’m not tense, he snapped.

     Vincent chuckled. No, not at all.

     Did I ask for this lecture? Jason finished his brandy and immediately reached for the decanter. And even if I am tense, there’s not a damned thing I can do about it.

     There certainly is.

     Are you advising me to seduce the undoubtedly pure Miss Alton?

     Vincent looked over to where she chased the two boys, laughing, her gold-red hair shining in the afternoon sun. You’d be a damned fool if you didn’t, brother.

     That would be less than honourable, Vince.

     When it comes to sex, that is often a problem. Honour can be blasted inconvenient when you couple it with lust. His brother gave a small inelegant snort. I say to hell with principle if you can have a beautiful willing lover in your arms. She’s a grown woman, impoverished, alone in this world. She could do worse than become your mistress, Jason.

     Bloody hell, when put that way it didn’t sound so bad and the last thing he needed was further temptation.

     I don’t think that is quite the position she applied for when she sought employment here.

     I’d wager when you show her how pleasurable that position—and many others—can be, she’ll be more than happy to accept it. Vincent gave him a cheeky smile and drained his glass.

     He was there watching them, just as he had the afternoon before, which was entirely unusual for her reticent employer. Despite her resolve to appear utterly nonchalant, her pulse raced and there was nothing Alicia Alton could do about it.

     The sun shone off his glossy dark hair and he was dressed formally