Countess Curvy: A Curvy Girl's Earl Read online

  Countess Curvy: A Curvy Girl’s Earl

  by Kristabel Reed

  Copyright © 2014 by Kristabel Reed

  Smashwords Edition

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  A Wicked ePub® Original Publication

  ISBN 13:

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Formatted by: CyberWitch Press

  Chapter One

  “Distracted? Seems my curves are just as dangerous as texting and driving.”

  Audrey Mills pursed her full lips, painted a deep red today. The photographer, like a transfixed, drooling puppy, stared at her mouth and gave her a crooked grin. He swept his gaze over her figure, giving her an appreciative look as he did so.

  “Now, Simon, back to work.” Audrey smiled as she said that and watched her event photographer collect himself. With one final grin, he snapped several more photos.

  In a room full of flat-chested, rail-thin models wearing skimpy dresses, it amused her that her amply curved figure still mesmerized. If she was completely honest with herself, it pleased her, too. She wasn’t immune to being admired by the opposite sex.

  Her off-shoulder cocktail dress hugged her in all the right places and flirted just enough above the knee to tease. Of course, her sky-high heels helped, too.

  Audrey laughed and smoothed a hand down her hip as she gave the last model an approval nod. The afternoon had gone better than she’d hoped, and while she’d been here as a stylist to the models, she’d ended up coordinating the photo shoot as well.

  “That’s it, everybody,” Audrey announced as she checked off her list. “Last model is out the door. Anne will be taking over for pack-up and cleanup. Great work on the event! And thank you for donating your time for the charity.”

  Audrey stepped aside as Anne took over coordination.

  She was antsy not just to join the party, but to poke around the museum. Audrey hadn’t been to London in years; the last time she’d been here was for a Vogue shoot. And that was a fly-in, style-the-shoot, fly-out job.

  When Anne had asked her to style this event at the British Museum, Audrey had jumped at the chance not only to help out a friend and a charity, but to poke around London.

  And to visit the British Museum. She’d never made it here and was dying to explore the fashion hall. If she got lost in here, so much the better.

  This time was her time, a mini vacation to indulge her love of all things British—or at least in their unique style—and her love of history. She’d enjoy the city, visit a few designers, sightsee all major tourist attractions, and scour the antique shops. It was perfect.

  Audrey took one last look at Anne, who had the wrap-up well under way, and checked her makeup at a model’s station. At twenty-seven, she was happy where she was in life; she had a great New York City apartment in Tribeca, was living with a couple close friends, and got to travel on someone else’s dime.

  Who wouldn’t love that? Certainly not her, she loved practically everything about her life.

  One of the models smiled at her and grabbed the plastic container full of carrot sticks. Audrey shrugged. Nothing against carrots, she loved them, but not as the only thing for lunch. One of her favorite Mae West quotes popped into her head.

  “I never worry about diets. The only carrots that interest me are the number you get in a diamond.” She loved that quote. Then again, Audrey couldn’t think of a Mae West quote she didn’t love.

  She stepped out from behind the curtains hiding the chaos of the prep area, and made her way to the buffet. Set up among the myriad of mannequins wearing Regency era clothing, it was, in Audrey’s opinion, the perfect place for her to start her vacation. She grabbed a petit Napoleon pastry as she passed the dessert table and enjoyed the irony of it.

  Set behind glass, a particularly gorgeous Regency ball gown caught her attention. The pale blue creation dripped in beadwork over very fine Venetian lace. Ignoring her reflection, Audrey admired the needlework and the elegance the gown projected. Behind the coiffed mannequin stood a gentleman’s form; this one boasted a perfectly preserved evening suit that could have easily been the inspiration for Mr. Darcy.

  Audrey licked the last bit of cream off her finger and stepped closer to better see the Mr. Darcy lookalike. Instead of Mr. Darcy, she saw a handsome male face reflect off the glass, almost perfectly aligned over the period suit.

  “Transports you to another time, doesn’t it?”

  The man’s deep voice could coax a girl out of her panties. Audrey wasn’t immune and turned to see the owner of that very low, all sexy English velvet voice. She licked her lips as she took him in, recognizing that very distinctive face. His vivid blue eyes caught hers, and she had to admit, she felt a little zing of lust. Well, maybe not so little.

  She smiled up at him, saw his blue eyes darken as his gaze held hers, and felt that zing again.

  “It’s a fantasy, that’s for sure,” she commented as she tilted her head and turned completely toward him.

  “You create quite a spectacular fantasy.” His voice slid over her skin, smooth and arousing. “Your presentation is exceptional.”

  He didn’t take his gaze from hers and for a beat, Audrey wondered if he meant the show…or her. Then, without tearing his gaze from hers, he gestured toward the models wandering among the guests.

  “Thank you, Lord Thornhill.” Audrey checked her thoughts.

  Of course, he’d been referring to her styling skills and nothing else. She might feel sexy and alluring to Simon the photographer in her size sixteen body, but Lord Thornhill struck her as one who preferred the boyish frames of the models slinking around the room over her generous curves.

  “And may I say your presentation,” Audrey hesitated just slightly. She let her gaze wander up and down his body, a small smile playing around the corners of her lips. Oh, he filled out the gray suit well, very well, and she could definitely appreciate his form. “Is well received.”

  Oh, she could make him guess, too. Thornhill narrowed his eyes curiously for a moment as his gaze continued to hold hers. Audrey allowed her smile to grow just slightly.

  Audrey gave a little nod in acknowledgement of their byplay, then commented,

  “The charity will gather quite a lot of buzz from this event.”

  “In no small part to your efforts, Ms. Mills,” Thornhill stated.

  Audrey was impressed that the great media mogul Duncan Collins, Earl of Thornhill, had taken the time to ask someone her name.

  “I appreciate the acknowledgement, Lord Thornhill,” Audrey said as she inhaled deeply, knowing fully what that did to her cleavage. “I was happy to do it. A very worthy cause, this.”

  “Yes, yes.” He couldn’t conceal how his eyes drifted over her body. “A very worthy cause, the preservation of the spotted leprechaun in the northern moors.”

  Audrey peered at him quizzically before laughing. “You have no idea what this charity is for, do you?”

  “I write checks and make appearances.” He smile
d. “I rarely listen to assistants who babble in my ear just as I enter the car.”

  “I see you live dangerously,” Audrey observed.

  “Whenever I can,” he confirmed.

  “Lord Thornhill.” A woman dressed in a dark blue suit tapped Thornhill on the arm. “Do pardon, but I was wondering if you’d share your observations of the event with The Times?”

  Audrey threw the interloping woman a quick wait-a-moment smile and turned back to Thornhill. “Again, thank you for including me, Lord Thornhill, in today’s event. Funding creative arts and education afterschool programs could unearth all sorts of treasures. It was a pleasure meeting you,” she said with a slightly wicked grin before walking away.

  “I believe Ms. Mills brought a breath of fresh air to these otherwise standard events,” Thornhill commented to the reporter.

  Audrey glanced back and smiled when she heard the comment. Embracing the fantasy of chatting up an earl at the British Museum, she all too easily envisioned him turning and leaving the reporter to follow her.

  When he did just that, Audrey wondered if she’d somehow called out to him, but no. He’d very clearly left the reporter behind and walked steadily to where she stood.

  “Have you taken a walk down the costume hall yet?” he asked, his hands casually in his pockets. “I would imagine you could find quite a number of treasures there.”

  “No,” Audrey responded, still a bit stunned he left the reporter to ask her this. “I haven’t.”

  “Would you allow me to escort you?” He offered his arm. “I would love to hear your thoughts on the historical costume, from your unique perspective.”

  “Certainly,” Audrey answered as she slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.

  “Thorny,” a whiny voice called from behind them, “I thought we were going to lunch?”

  Audrey heard Thornhill sigh deeply, and he threw her an apologetic smile before turning to a tall, thin blonde woman wearing what amounted to four flimsy napkins belted by a glittery belt.

  “I believe Mr. Westcombe brought you, Miss Blake,” Thornhill said rather dismissively. “Perhaps you should ask him about your plans. I am unavailable.”

  “But he said he was setting us up,” the Blake woman informed him, completely ignoring Audrey. “I expected us to have a little afternoon delight.” She said the last very suggestively.

  “Expect it with Mr. Westcombe.” Thornhill pulled Audrey back with him. “Good day.”

  Audrey kept pace with Thornhill as they dodged a few other reporters and wandered down the Regency Costume Hall.

  “Wasn’t she—” Audrey started.

  “Unimportant,” Thornhill finished. “Yes. My friends have this need to bring dates for me, even when I do not ask for them.”

  “Most men would have been appreciative of such a date, Lord Thornhill,” Audrey said. Though maybe not with that screechy voice.

  “Most men can have her, then.” He smiled as they proceeded down the hall, away from the other guests.

  “Most men probably have,” Audrey muttered. To her surprise, Thornhill stifled a laugh.

  Audrey let go of Thornhill’s arm and stepped around one of the costume displays. “I saw the style of this bodice on one of the runways in New York last season. I would bet the designer probably drew inspiration from this very gown.”

  “And what inspires you?” he asked as he circled around the display and stepped closer to her.

  “All sorts of things.” Audrey glanced up at him. His vivid blue eyes had darkened, and there was a definite predatory look in them. She shivered, another zing of lust warming her. And making her want to do a variety of scandalous things to the handsome earl in the middle of the British Museum.

  “Something as simple as seeing the perfect hue of crimson or as complex as these historical gowns.” Her voice dripped with innuendo, and she offered a slow smile. “And you, Lord Thornhill?” She deepened the suggestion in her voice just slightly. “What inspires you?”

  He looked at her with an honesty that surprised her. The heat in his gaze hadn’t lessened but burned brighter, if possible. “For a long time it was the challenge of work. Now, right now, it’s something else altogether.”

  “A new muse?” Audrey asked and took a step closer.

  Thornhill smiled that same wolfish grin that tightened through her and had her wondering how many cameras the museum had. And if they could find a place out of those cameras’ range. Yes, that would be her perfect fantasy.

  “Something like that,” he offered.

  “I love new inspirations.” Audrey tore her gaze from his, those mesmerizing blue eyes that held her captive with its suggestive heat. “They can be so wickedly fun.” She ran her eyes over the costumed mannequins only briefly before she looked back at him. She couldn’t seem to keep her gaze off him for too long.

  “Ms. Mills.” Thornhill leaned his shoulder against the glass display, his hands back in his pockets. But the casual air was false, burning with need and drawing her to him in a way Audrey hadn’t known was possible. “Would you care to have dinner with me tonight?”

  Did he just ask her out on a date? Or was this a polite gesture of some sort? Audrey’s first reaction was to tell him to dispense with formalities and take her right here and now. To ease the arousing fire burning through her. But then her playful mood turned and she felt uneasy, taken aback. Harmless flirting was one thing, but now? Was he being cruel? Why would Lord Thornhill, of all people, want to ask her on a date?

  Audrey took a deep breath and smoothed her skirt. “Thank you, but no. I think you would be better suited with Miss Blake.”

  Chapter Two

  “That was cruel, Ms. Mills,” Thornhill stated. His eyes twinkled with amusement, and a slow smile spread over his lips. “You’d curse me to an evening of inane conversation, followed by inappropriate groping?”

  “You don’t strike me as a man to shun inappropriate groping,” Audrey added with a smile of her own.

  “Well…not from the right woman.” He pushed off the wall, all coiled grace and sex.

  Audrey studied him for a long moment. Suddenly their conversation had turned from a game of fun flirting to more. Much more. She came to the astonishing conclusion that this shockingly handsome tall drink of deliciousness was actually into her. She could feel her eyes widen as she looked up at him.

  “Come now, Ms. Mills.” Thornhill took a step closer, his gaze steady on hers. “I can’t believe you aren’t pursued every waking moment.”

  “I must admit while I’m used to the delivery man or the odd photographer appreciating my curvaceous figure,” Audrey was surprised her voice held steady. “You are my very first…earl.”

  “It’s good to be first.” His smile was slow and suggestive, and it took Audrey more than one moment to look away from his lips. What would they feel like against hers? What did he taste like? She licked her own lips at the thought, and then regretted it when his eyes followed the move.

  Maybe not regret, not if the rush of heat through her was any indication. No definitely not regret.

  “So, what do you say?” Thornhill asked, his voice low, a caress over her bare skin. “Will you rescind your rejection and accompany me to dinner tonight?”

  A million things went through Audrey’s mind—everything from Is he joking? to Can I really do this? It would be such a fantasy to enjoy this man, to joke with him, to kiss him. To have him. Audrey had never really fallen headlong into the self-esteem chubby girl trap, but she still knew full well that this type of pairing never happened. Never.

  She tore her gaze from his mouth, a small, thin voice telling her that wondering what he tasted like was the last damn thing she should be wondering. “Between two evils, I always pick the one I’ve never tried before.” The Mae West quote raced through her mind, and she heard herself saying, “I suppose it would nice to experience London with a native.”

  The instant the words left her mouth, that small voice shut up. Decision made th
en. Audrey smiled up at Thornhill and nodded—whether to confirm her words to him or reiterate them to herself didn’t matter. She’d enjoy dinner with the handsome earl. And maybe get to taste those delectable lips.

  “Then I promise to make sure you thoroughly enjoy the experience.” His voice heavy with insinuation, he offered that same slow smile that did things to her insides. Hot, delicious things that also had Audrey’s imagination racing.

  With a calm she didn’t necessarily feel, Audrey continued looking at the display, with Lord Thornhill at her side. She didn’t retake his arm; somehow doing so would feel far too intimate, which was insane. But the look in his eyes and the smile he’d offered her had her heart pounding and her body wondering just how delicious his would feel against hers.

  There was conversation, Audrey knew there was, but the mundane talk about costumes and charities had nothing on her sudden fantasies. She needed to rein herself in before she humiliated herself. Normally she was so good with words, using them to deflect embarrassment and turn the conversation to her advantage.

  She swallowed, determined to put this conversation and upcoming date on firm footing—her footing. With a suggestive smile, Audrey told him where she was staying, the Gideon London. One of her best friends, Sabrina, worked as the VP of Development for Gideon Hotels International. It paid to have friends in the right places.

  “Can I drop you off there?” Thornhill asked, that same spark in his eye.

  “No, thanks,” Audrey managed with that same calm. “I have a couple things to wrap up here first.”

  He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers, and for the first time in a long, long while—maybe in forever—Audrey felt as if a man’s entire attention rested on her. The heady sensation made her slightly dizzy, but she brushed it aside with a bright smile and a promise to see him tonight.

  As she turned to find Anne, Audrey wondered what the hell she’d got herself into. Adding a swing to her hips, she decided she didn’t care. Brave new world or brave new earl. Or something. There had to be a quote for this—she was certain of it. But at the moment she honestly couldn’t think of one.