Jess Michaels (8 page)

Designing her toys had become a bit more complicated. Every time she molded an item made for sin, she couldn’t help but picture using it with Nathan. Memories of their hot encounter a few days ago invariably came flooding back to distract and distress her.

“Then it must be a man,” her friend said with a sigh, intruding upon Cassandra’s sensual reverie. “Although I have never seen you so forlorn over a lover before, or be so secretive as to
keep a new tryst quiet, even from me. You do not have to tell me his name, but if you would like to talk about him…”

Cassandra shoved the other half of the cookie into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Elinor was correct that she had never hidden her lovers in the past. She wasn’t ashamed of what she had done and with whom. Sometimes it was quite…
invigorating
to whisper her naughtiest secrets to her best friend, reliving the memories with each word. It invariably led to a satisfying round of self-pleasure later in her chamber, and she had the sneaking suspicion that the same was true for the more sheltered Elinor.

But with Nathan, everything was different. In all the years since they met, she had never spoken to anyone about their past relationship. She had never given away the facts of their sexual encounters. It seemed too personal, too emotional to gossip about the details of the way he touched her, the way he moved his mouth over her skin.

She swallowed the delicious biscuit and shrugged one shoulder. “There isn’t a man.”

Her friend arched a brow. “Yes, there is. Your servants have been buzzing about someone who comes here and is able to make any demand he wants and you don’t argue. And you have the look of a woman mooning over a man who has left her well-pleasured.” Her friend stared at her harder. “The fact that you deny he exists tells me a great deal. Is he of such importance that you try to protect his reputation?”

Cassandra picked at her skirt, dropping her gaze so that
her friend wouldn’t see. “I really don’t want to discuss him.”

Elinor pursed her lips in a thin line. “But this secret is hurting you; that much is plain. This man must have an enormous amount of power if he—”

Her friend broke off with a gasp, as she covered her lips with one hand and stared.

“What is it?” Cassandra asked, dreading the answer.

Elinor lowered her fingers to whisper, “Good God, Cass, you aren’t sleeping with the Prince Regent, are you?”

Her friend’s tone was one of utter disgust, and Cassandra couldn’t blame her. The idea of anyone finding the fat, pompous leader attractive was a bit much for her.

“Of course not!” she snapped, glaring at her friend. “Give me some credit for taste!”

“Then someone else,” her friend pressed. “Someone in parliament or a man with a reputation for piety?”

Cassandra shook her head and sighed. Now her friend was so concerned that it was going to be virtually impossible to put her off the topic.

“It isn’t like that at all. The problem isn’t that his standing must be upheld or anything of that sort. I…I…” she hesitated. Elinor was the closest thing to family she had and she ached to tell someone about her woes—all of them. They hurt so much to keep inside.

“I knew him before I came here,” she found herself whispering. “It was so long ago and we were both very different then. We shared something special…or I
thought
it was spe
cial. Now he is back in my life and everything is complicated by the past.”

“So you are in love,” her friend said, as she slowly got to her feet and backed away a long step. She blinked down at Cassandra in disbelief. “You are finally in love.”

“No.” Cassandra pushed to her own feet and strode as far across the room as she could. “That is the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard. Of course I’m not in love with him. Once, perhaps, I thought I was, but—”

“Ha!” Her friend pursued her around the room like a bulldog. “So you
did
care for him deeply.”

“Yes—” Cassandra began, but Elinor was still talking.

“No woman ever fully overcomes such a thing; trust that I know that from personal experience. You may deny your feelings, but the fact that you have allowed this man back into your life, that you have allowed him to barge into your home whenever he likes, that you—”

Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut. “Elinor, he is blackmailing me.”

The interruption cut her friend off short and stopped her dead in her tracks.

“I…I don’t understand,” she finally said, after a long, silent moment.

Cassandra sighed. It was bad enough that Stephan knew part of the truth; now she was going to have to reveal her humiliation to her best friend, as well.

“He hates me for something that occurred in our past,” she explained, hoping her own emotions on that score weren’t
obvious. “And yet he still wants me. So he is blackmailing me into an affair. If I do not do as he requires, he will destroy my reputation.”

“How?”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment, fully aware of how unpleasant this conversation was about to become. “He’ll reveal my secondary business to the matrons of the
ton
in such a way that will make it impossible for them to ignore it.”

“Oh, great God,” her friend whispered. “How does he know? We have always been so careful!”

Cassandra expelled a humorless laugh. “Not careful enough, I suppose. He has been planning this for so long, I expect he has had spies watching me almost from the moment we parted.”

And yet he still didn’t have an inkling of the truth about why she hadn’t eloped with him that long ago night.

“We must stop him,” her friend said, rushing forward and catching Cassandra’s hands before she could move away. “You have friends of influence; surely they would help you if they were told you were being forced into sex by some fiend.”

Cassandra did wrench her hands away now and staggered backward. Elinor had no idea of the memories those words inspired, and she struggled to keep them at bay.

“He may be blackmailing me,” she panted, her voice strained and odd to her own ears. “But he isn’t forcing me into sex.”

She might accuse Nathan of many things, but rape was not one of them.

“Oh.” Her friend stared at her like she didn’t understand, and Cassandra felt for her. She wasn’t sure she understood her own motivations, either. She wanted Nathan, but she hated his blackmail. She ached for his touch, but she feared the feelings it inspired. She wanted him to come back to her, and she feared he would.

Her life, in short, was upside down and sideways, completely out of control.

“What can I do?” Elinor asked, her voice quiet and calm, the same tone she used when Cassandra was panicking over deadlines or behind on an important project.

Cassandra smiled, despite her own pain and confusion, before she wrapped her arms around her friend and squeezed. She did adore Elinor like she was her own sister. “Nothing, I’m afraid. He hasn’t been back here in two days. Perhaps he is finished with me. He’s bored of me already and feels his revenge is complete.”

While that should have been a comforting thought, it was anything but, because Cassandra still ached for him. Despite everything, when she thought of him never coming back it made her tremble with disappointment and longing.

Her friend’s eyes lit up with hope, but before Elinor could respond, the door to the parlor opened. Almost as though their discussion of him had called him to her, Nathan stood in the entryway. She sucked in a breath of surprise and relief. So it wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot, judging by the way his eyes glowed with need and his body was taut with tension.

And despite herself, Cassandra was flooded with answer
ing desire. She wanted to wrap herself around him, draw him deep inside of her. She wanted to fill herself with him in every way.

Until Elinor shrugged from her arms and said, “
You
must be the bastard who is blackmailing my best friend. Tell me, sir, does it make you feel like more of a man to take what you want like a brute?”

A
lthough Cassandra had been hugging a young woman when he burst into her parlor, Nathan had hardly noticed the other person who was now a part of the moment between them. All he saw, when he opened the door, was
her
.

He soaked in every inch of her, from her less-than-fashionable flannel gown to her red hair bound loosely at the nape of her neck. She looked so much like the girl he had once wanted to possess in every way and she was the only important person in the room…in the
world
at that moment.

Until her friend turned on him, a light of pure hatred in her eyes, and said words laced with poison.

“
You
must be the bastard who is blackmailing my best friend. Tell me, sir, does it make you feel like more of a man to take what you want like a brute?”

He folded his arms and looked past his attacker at Cassandra. She was frozen, her face bloodless, as she stared back at him. Was
that
what Cassandra had told this shaking, angry woman who was now crossing the room toward him in a way that could only be described as threatening, even though the dark-haired beauty was so slender that he could probably break her over his knee?

Still, the other woman approached like a leopard in India protecting her threatened cub. “Are you going to answer me, sir?” she asked.

He cocked a brow. It wasn’t often that he threw the weight of his position around, but this seemed the perfect time. “Do you know who I am?”

“If you are indeed the person threatening my friend,” the woman snapped, her eyes narrowed, “I don’t care about anything else.”

He smiled at her, thin and just as threatening as her posture. “I am Nathan Manning, Earl of Blackhearth. Someday I will be Marquis Herstale. And you are?”

The young woman stopped when he listed off his present and future titles. Now it was Elinor’s face that grew still and pale as she spun back on Cassandra, with a gasp. She nodded slightly, as if she was verifying everything he said. When her friend turned back, there was more wariness in her stare, but no less hatred and accusation.

“Whether you are lord or servant, you have no right to force Cassandra to your will,” she said, this time much more softly.

Surprise made Nathan rock back. Few people would be so bold as to maintain their loyalty in the face of the subtle threat of his position. He couldn’t help but respect this young woman for doing so, though he felt her choice of friends was dubious. Would Cassandra remain so true if the roles were reversed?

The young woman folded her arms. “If you would like to pursue some kind of revenge on me for my impertinence, then I gladly give you my name, for I don’t fear bullies. I am Elinor Clifford. And Cassandra Willows is the best friend I have ever had in my life.”

Nathan considered the woman for a long moment, then shrugged one shoulder. “I once said the same thing about Cassandra, but then she proved me a fool. Certainly, though, I admire your loyalty to a woman who has demonstrated she can lie with ease.”

Elinor let out another sound of utter outrage, but before she could launch into a fresh defense of her friend, Nathan lifted a dismissive hand to silence her.

“This is not a battle for you to fight, dear lady. I would suggest you run along and let Cassandra protect herself.” He locked gazes with Cassandra. “She is well capable of it.”

Elinor Clifford’s mouth thinned to an iron line, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she shot her friend a look over her shoulder. This time, Cassandra moved forward slightly.

“Go, Elinor,” she said quietly, but her stare never left his face. “You should know me well enough to know I can handle myself. There is no need for you to insert yourself in this con
flict. As his lordship suggests, it is between us. Only we can resolve it.” She arched a brow and a sultry light entered her eyes that made his stomach clench yet again with unwanted, uncontrolled desire. “One way or another.”

Elinor hesitated, but then she nodded. “If you need me, please call, Cassandra.”

Then she swept from the room and didn’t give even a passing glance toward him as she slammed the door behind her, her final comment on his presence there.

Once she was gone, Nathan found himself watching Cassandra. He didn’t even know why he was here. After he left the Rothschild ball, he had found himself driving around and around the city, lost and unsure of much except that he wanted to see her. Only when he had surrendered to his weakness and given his driver the direction to her home had he felt any kind of peace.

Yes, peace. Not his usual anger or drive for revenge, or anything else. The sense of calm was far more troubling than the other emotions.

“Did you tell your friend that I was forcing myself on you?” he asked, watching Cassandra carefully for her reaction.

She flinched and there was a powerful pain in her stare before she turned it away so he could no longer read her heart. So, she didn’t like being caught in her lies and false implications.

“Of course not,” she whispered, her voice harsh. “In fact, I told her myself that blackmail or not, you could not force me to do anything I did not myself desire. I don’t think you
would press or force me if I truly resisted you. You are not that kind of man, no matter what else you have become or try to be when you are here with me.”

He moved toward her on that confession. For once, he actually believed her, as foolish as that might be, and he was pleased she hadn’t claimed he was some kind of rapist.

“So you admit you want me,” he said softly, reaching for her when he was close enough. He tangled a loose lock of her hair around his finger and brushed it away from her face. “That you would be with me even if there was no blackmail.”

She lifted her gaze and, to his surprise, her eyes sparkled like she was holding back tears. “Don’t make me say it.”

He slipped his fingers deep into the silky warmth of her hair, cupping her head and tilting it up to give himself full access to her lips, her elegant throat.

“What if I told you that I long for you, despite everything? That I want you day and night, that you ruin all other women for me. Or that I want to kill with my bare hands any man who ever touched you. Tonight I had the opportunity not once, but twice, and it was quite tempting.”

She sucked in a harsh breath and her lips parted with surprise at his candor. He would regret it later, he was sure, but for now the words continued to flow from his lips.

“Would knowing those things make it easier for you to admit that you want me deep inside of you?”

She swallowed hard and he watched her throat work with the action. Finally, she nodded, pulling her head against his hand with the jerky motion.

“Yes.” Her voice barely carried, though they were not even an inch apart now. “I want you. I hoped to forget you, to stop this longing, but it never went away. Blackmail or not, when I saw you in your aunt’s home, I hoped that I would return to your bed, at least one last time.”

As he dropped his mouth to hers, Nathan recognized that she hadn’t said she wanted to return to his life or his heart, just his bed. A small sting made itself clear, but he shoved it away. There was no future for them, he knew that full-well. He didn’t want one. Just
this
.

This merging of mouths that was gentler than it had ever been before, a slow tangling of tongues and a soft clench of her fingers against his back as she wound her arms around him and clung tight to his neck.

He lifted her up, molding her body to his, as her slippered feet left the floor. It was like heaven to feel her breasts flattened against his chest, to hear her soft moans as they entered his mouth, to be engulfed by the heat of her body as she struggled to get even closer.

He carried her, still clinging to his shoulders, to the settee by the fire and laid her across the velvety cushions. She reached for him as he covered her, holding him against her body with a desperation that surprised him.

“Let me touch you this time,” she whispered against his neck as she kissed him. “Let me see you. Don’t deny me.”

He was so lost in the haze of need that she was quickly creating in him that he almost lost the meaning of her plea. Almost. So his attempts to keep a distance between them
had
affected her in some way. He wasn’t sure whether to be glad or sorry for that fact.

So he didn’t choose. Tonight wasn’t about the blackmail or the tangled, turbulent emotions she inspired deep within him. Tonight was just a moment stolen from time. Later he would return to control. He would latch back onto the past, the rage, the need to make and break this affair on his own terms.

Tonight he just wanted to touch this woman and allow her to touch him. He wanted to forget the agendas tonight, his own and hers, and simply remember the pleasure of holding her like he once did.

“Touch me,” he growled, his voice rough.

She shoved at him, shifting him off her body, and making him sit up. Then she got to her knees on the settee beside him. There was a hungry, eager light that darkened her eyes to a lush, deep green—deeper than the jungle, darker than anything he’d ever seen.

She reached for him, unlooping his cravat with experienced fingers and spreading the fabric wide as she opened his buttons one by one. She slipped her fingers into the gap she had created and hissed out a sound of hot pleasure when she touched his skin.

He couldn’t help but echo that sound. It had been so fucking long. He was just beginning to realize how long.

She shifted, skimming one leg over his so that she straddled his lap, her skirts piled awkwardly around her. But she didn’t seem to care, she was too lost in gliding her hands up
and down his chest, raking her nails over his sensitive skin, and popping the last remaining buttons of his tailored shirt-waist.

Cassandra shoved the fabric away, letting it smash behind them without finesse. She had lost all ability for self-control or elegance the moment she touched him. Unlike any other man who had ever shared her bed, Nathan swept her away. In all ways.

She arched up, cupping his cheeks to draw his mouth to hers. He tasted like scotch and heaven as their tongues collided in a gentle, exploring, and teasing war. She felt the hard length of him against her thigh and shivered.

Soon enough.

But in this moment where he allowed her every whim, she wasn’t ready to surrender this tiny piece of power. Once this act of passion was over, she knew full well that he could—and probably would—return to the cold distance he had maintained with her so far. This might be her only chance to explore him, pleasure him, remember how good it felt to touch him.

She shimmied down, letting her knees rest on the floor between his legs. As she moved, she glided her mouth down his hot skin, licking the curve of his throat, sucking at the smooth skin along his collarbone, taking one flat male nipple into her mouth. He bucked when she suckled at him, his hips slamming into her as he released a needy moan.

She swelled with the power and pleasure of making him lose even that fraction of control. As much as he remem
bered her body, she recalled his. Like how sensitive he was when she kissed along his chest, glided down his stomach as she did now.

And she had a few more tricks now than she had as a shy girl. As she traced her tongue along his defined stomach, she began to work his trousers loose. With a few tugs, she slipped them down over his hips and his erection popped free.

She stopped kissing him and took a long, hot moment to stare. He was, by far, the most beautiful specimen of a man she had ever seen. His cock was perfectly formed, from the swollen mushroom head of it to the thick blade of the shaft. And when it was fully ready, just the sight of that big thrust of muscle made her pussy twinge and clench in anticipation of what he would do with it.

But she had never tasted him. That was one of the acts she had grown to love later, after he was gone. Now she wanted more than anything to take him deep into her throat, to make him moan and ache. To bring him hard, heavy pleasure.

She caught the hot length of him in her palm and they shivered together.

“You are so beautiful,” she murmured, stroking him once, twice, smoothing away the tiny trickle of moisture that leaked from the tip of his cock.

He groaned as an answer, his head flopping back against the settee cushions. His neck strained and his breath was coming in pants. In short, he was utterly at her mercy.

And she loved it.

Dipping her head, she swirled the tip of her tongue around
him, tasting the salty bitterness, loving the velvet heat. He jolted at the contact and when she looked up, he was staring at her with wide eyes.

“Cass?” he rasped.

Now tears stung her eyes. That was the first time he had cut her name short, calling her by the nickname that only those closest to her used. The one he used to call out in pleasure and whisper in love.

“I want to pleasure you,” she whispered back, returning her attention to his erection so that he wouldn’t see her emotional response to his use of her name.

He didn’t argue, only slowly lifted his hips so that his cock worked through her hand. She took that as an invitation and returned to her work. This time she didn’t tease though. She sucked him deep within her mouth, loving how he filled her so completely. When he touched the back of her throat, she withdrew, sucking hard as she drew him out of her wet mouth. Thrusting like he would eventually do inside of her pussy, she worked at him.