SHE was three minutes late, one hundred and eighty seconds past the last gong that marked the witching hour, and he’d already found a replacement for her. With her heart clamoring and bitter disappointment settling into her breast, she stood transfixed in the doorway leading into the parlor of the Nightingale Club and watched as Ashebury nodded and smiled at a woman wearing a deep purple mask and elegant evening gown. It barely occurred to her to wonder why the lurid female wasn’t dressed in the simple attire of every other lady in the room.
Instead, she was more concerned with why she thought she’d meant something to him, why she’d given any credence to his invitation, to the pleasure he’d brought her, to the exceptions he’d claimed to make where she was concerned. Lies spouted from his luscious, deceiving mouth like that of every other man who had ever deemed to give her attention. When she was out of sight, she was out of mind. She. Lady V.
She castigated herself. Had she really thought that a woman who visited a place like this was going to be revered and hold a man’s affections for more than the time it took to bed her?
Then he was striding toward her, his smile broadening, and it occurred to her that it had never been for the woman in purple. That it had been for her the second she’d stepped through the doorway, and he saw her.
She had been three minutes late. It wasn’t even a minute later, and he was at her side.
“Seems you’re not wanting for a partner this evening,” she said, hating the churlishness in her voice, striving not to reveal the full extent of her irritation and disappointment by shaking off the large, warm hand that he had curled over her shoulder, offering the touch she had planned to welcome with every aspect of her being.
His smile dimmed slightly, his gaze held hers commandingly, not allowing her to look away. “Lady Eliza is the proprietor. She was reassuring me that everything I asked for had been seen to.”
“What did you ask for?”
He glided that cupped hand along her arm, took her hand, and lifted her fingers to his mouth. She was aware of the warmth of his breath, the softness of his lips. “Do you want me to ruin the surprise I planned for you?”
The tightness in her chest unfurled like a rose blossoming at first light. “What if I hadn’t come?”
“I’d have left here a broken man.”
A corner of her mouth curled up. “I doubt that.”
“Well, perhaps not broken, but very disappointed. Shall we go up?”
The time had come. While her nerves threatened to jump about, she took a deep breath to calm them. She would not—could not—back out again. She’d made her decision to come here, to meet him tonight, because she wanted to be in his arms. He was the one, the one she yearned for, the one she wanted to take her more deeply into the realm of pleasure. She trusted him. He could have taken advantage before, could have pressured her, could have been angry when she changed her mind. But all along, he’d been patient, understanding, gentle—even though he’d told her that he liked it rough and hard. The kiss against the door had no doubt been a sampling.
It hadn’t frightened her then, the thought of it didn’t frighten her now. She wanted to be with him. For tonight, she relished the fantasy that he yearned to be with her.
She nodded. Wrapping his arm around her back, he turned her for the stairs, then brought her in closer against his side as they ascended them. When they reached the top, he escorted her along a different hallway, at the end of which was another set of stairs. He guided her up them. At the top was only one door.
She was shimmering with anticipation as he unlocked it, shoved it open. This time, after she passed over the threshold, she wasn’t surprised when the door slammed in her wake and she found her back against it, her hands shackled over her head, his mouth hungrily and greedily devouring hers. This time she welcomed him without hesitation, without reservation.
“You were late,” he snarled.
She laughed. “All of three minutes.”
She’d almost not come. She’d climbed into the carriage, climbed out of it. Back in. Then she’d had the driver drop her off a few blocks from the Nightingale, sent him on his way, and prayed he’d say nothing to her father. But why would he? He didn’t know her final destination or the mischief she was getting into.
“Each one was an eternity of agony,” Ashebury ground out.
The joy spiraling through her only increased when he latched his mouth back onto hers. He wanted her, yearned for her, desired her. He made her feel beautiful and elegant. He made her feel as though she mattered to him.
“Take off the mask,” he demanded, his mouth hot against her throat.
“No.” Tonight was fantasy, the dreams of a homely girl who had never known the heat of passion, who had never been made to feel desired. Who had thought she’d be destined for a cold marriage until she’d decided she’d rather hold her head up high as a spinster than bow before a man who couldn’t love her.
Leaning back slightly, he peered through the small openings of the mask into her eyes, bracketed his hands on either side of her throat, skimmed his thumbs along her chin. “After all we’ve shared thus far, why won’t you reveal yourself to me?”
“Because it will change everything.”
“Could change everything for the better.”
“I don’t think so. I’ll become self-conscious, uncomfortable. Probably won’t go through with it. But I want very much to be with you.” She cradled his jaw. “Still, I need the mystery.”
Placing his hand over hers, he held it in place while he turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to its center. “How will you explain your touched state on your wedding night?”
“I’m not going to marry.”
His eyes held hers. “What if you have an offer?”
“I don’t trust any man to be sincere when he says he wants me. None has ever claimed to love me.” She lowered her hand to his lapel, squeezed her fingers around it. “Don’t say those words to me tonight. I don’t need them. I want honesty between us.”
“Says the woman in the gilded mask.”
“There’s no dishonesty in not revealing who I am when it is the mark of this place. Didn’t you accept these conditions with other women?”
“But none of them intrigue me as you do. Yet if the choice is to accept your terms or not have you . . . I’ll accept your terms.” He released her, stepped away. “Now, let’s enjoy what Lady Eliza prepared for us.”
She looked more closely at the room then, realized it was larger than the other. Thick red velvet hung from the canopy of the bed in stark contrast to the white satin sheets that glistened in the candlelight like a shimmering pool of decadence. Within the sitting area, a fire burned low on the hearth. Near the window was a cloth-covered table set with a light repast and a bottle of wine. Ashebury was pouring the burgundy liquid into two goblets.
Wandering over, she said, “I’m not certain I can eat.”
He peered at her. “If not now, later. You need to keep up your strength. We have all night.”
She almost told him that she needed to be home before her parents were up, and her father was an early riser. But she would worry about working her way through that gauntlet later. After taking the goblet he offered, she sipped the wine, smiled. “Very nice.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
She glanced around. “Why this room?”
“It’s used only by the most elite, for special occasions. It doesn’t seem quite as tawdry. It’s isolated, which I thought might make you less self-conscious should you have a need to scream in pleasure.”
After last night, she suspected he could very easily make her scream. She took another sip, licked her lips, watched as his eyes darkened. “You didn’t set up your camera.”
“I’m not here for photographs tonight.”
“Did the one you take of me turn out?”
“It is without doubt my best work.”
“I hoped you might bring it, show it to me.”
He slowly shook his head. “I’ll never share it with anyone, not even you.”
“That hardly seems fair. Perhaps I’ll have you teach me how to use a camera, and I’ll take a photo of you.”
He picked up a strawberry, placed it lightly against her lips. “I’ll be happy to add that to the list of things I intend to teach you.”
Taking a bite of the strawberry, she enjoyed the succulent sweetness, watched as he finished off the fruit. Everything was going so slowly, more slowly than she’d anticipated. “I thought we’d get right to it.”
“I told you that first night that a slow seduction increases the anticipation and ultimately the pleasure.”
“The slow seduction began two visits ago, wouldn’t you say?”
The sensual smile he bestowed on her hinted at his devilish nature. “There is only one first time, V.”
Her mouth was suddenly dry. “I see you’ve decided to go informal. Should I call you A?”
“Ashe. Would you rather I call you something else? Sweetheart, perhaps?”
“I don’t want any false endearments.”
“If I utter them, trust me, they will not be false. I don’t play games. When I take a woman to my bed, I’m quite serious about it.” Setting his glass aside, he took a step nearer to her, drilled his gaze into hers. “And your mask will come off. If you want me to do naughty things with you, it will come off.” He trailed his finger along her skin, just below the lower curve of the mask. “I’m going to remove your clothing, and then I’m going to extinguish the candles, draw the curtains around the bed, so there is naught but darkness within it. You’ll slip inside, remove the mask. When you’re ready, I’ll join you.” He leaned nearer, whispered, “And when we’re both ready, I’ll slip inside you.”
She quivered with need as the images bombarded her. Slow seduction indeed. She finished off her wine, hoping it would calm her racing heart.
“But first,” he said, straightening, “I have something for you to wear so you won’t feel quite so exposed.” After reaching inside his jacket, he unfurled his hand to reveal a small chain of golden links with delicate golden tassels dangling between them.
“What a gorgeous bracelet!” She studied him. “You can’t be meaning to give it to me.”
“Not a bracelet exactly.” He knelt, patted his thigh, looked up at her. “It goes around the ankle. I purchased it during a trip to India. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to own it, but I know it belongs with you.”
“Honestly, I can’t take a gift such as that.”
“In a very short while, I’m going to take something from you. I should give you something in return.” He patted his thigh again. “Come on. You know you want it, and it’ll be our secret. You can wear it, and no one will see it beneath your skirts.”
She remembered his saying that she should be a little bit in love with the first person she coupled with. Was he striving to ensure that she was? Because she was certainly falling for him. She placed the goblet on the table, her hand on his shoulder for balance, and her foot on his firm thigh, giving her toes the freedom to curl and uncurl at the familiar feel of him. He secured the gold around her ankle. She didn’t think it had ever looked so delicate.
“Most gentlemen would probably give a bracelet or necklace or earbobs,” she said.
“I am not most gentlemen.” He unfolded that magnificent, well-toned body of his. “And you certainly are not most ladies.” With his eyes on her, he slipped a finger from each hand beneath the straps of the loosely flowing gown and began to move them aside.
Her breathing hitched. The moment for which she’d long waited was upon her. She wondered if she should have been frightened or nervous. If she would have been on her wedding night. But she was merely overflowing with eagerness and anticipation.
The cloth lowered a fraction, his gaze dipped down, came back up to hers. Held. Waited.
“It’s going to slither to the floor,” he said eventually. “Then I’m going to pick you up and carry you to the bed.”
“Not before I remove your clothing,” she said, a little more confidently than she felt.
His smile warmed, his eyes glinted with pleasure. “And here I always thought virgins were shy.”
“I’m not when I know what I want. And I want you.”
With a feral groan, he released the straps, cupped her face, and claimed her mouth while the silk fluttered to the floor. She should have felt exposed, but she didn’t. His arms came around her, pressing her against his chest while his mouth plundered. Rough and fast he’d once told her, and she suspected he’d been curbing his desires for fear of frightening her. But she had no qualms, no misgivings, no doubts. She needed this man as badly as she needed her next breath.
Breaking off the kiss, he lifted her and began striding toward the bed.
“Your clothing,” she admonished.
“I need to get you nearer to the bed while I still have the strength. You weaken me.”
Laughing, she cupped his strong jaw. He must have shaved immediately before coming here as she felt no stubble. She wouldn’t have minded it, but she was pleased he’d gone to the trouble. He smelled of soap and freshly applied sandalwood. He’d taken as much care as she had preparing for this encounter.
Setting her on her feet, he gave her body a slow perusal. “You’re exquisite.”
Such a simple statement, but it made her feel flawless, beloved, appreciated. In a figure eight, he traced a finger around her breasts. They tightened, seemed to strain toward him.
“Take down your hair,” he commanded.
“I thought you enjoyed unpinning it.”
“I want to watch your breasts lift up when you raise your arms. The darkness will prevent me from seeing so much. Indulge me now.”
She’d not considered that. Everything she wouldn’t see. “Isn’t this usually done in the dark?”
His eyes grew languid as he took them on a journey over the length of her. “Not always. Sometimes the darkness can add to the sensuality of the act. Sometimes the light can make it just as provocative. Depends what you desire. I’m the master of both.”
She would accuse him of being boastful, but she’d seen the truth of his words in his photographs. Swallowing hard, she raised her arms, watched as his nostrils flared, his lips parted slightly, his eyes glittered with yearning. As she searched out the pins, she nearly regretted that she required the darkness, that he required the removal of the mask. But she wanted it gone as much as he did. She didn’t want it hampering them.
She dropped the pins to the floor without ceremony. When she felt the weight of the strands shifting, the mask loosening, she turned her back on him in case the mask slipped too far before she could catch it. She heard his sharp intake of breath as her hair tumbled to her backside. Securing the mask, keeping her hands in place, she spun back around to face him.
“I thought I knew what you looked like,” he said. “Based on the flow of the silk you wore. I was wrong. You’re far lovelier than I imagined.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, to his compliments, to his praise. Slowly, she lowered her arms, feeling powerful and in control because she wasn’t self-conscious with his perusal.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked.
“Pardon.”
“My clothing. Didn’t you claim you were going to rip it from my body?”
“What would you wear home if I did that?” she asked, slipping her hands beneath the opening of his jacket, flattening them against his chest, taking immense satisfaction in his sharp intake of breath. She eased her hands up, gliding them over his shoulders, down his arms, neither of them reaching for the jacket when it tumbled to the floor.
She began unbuttoning his waistcoat with fingers she didn’t expect to be so steady.
“No nerves,” he said. So he’d noticed.
Lifting her gaze to his, she gave him what she hoped was a saucy smile. “I want this.”
“It’s taking too long.” While she unknotted his cravat, he began working on the buttons of his shirt. Then he drew everything over his head, exposing a finely shaped torso.
Her fingers did tremble now as she touched the horrid, ragged scar on his left shoulder. “Mr. Alcott didn’t exaggerate.”
“Pardon?”
She jerked her gaze up to his, saw the question there. Without thinking, she’d made a mistake, might have revealed herself had she said more. “I was at Lady Greyling’s when she welcomed you all back. I heard his tales, saw your photographs. They were the reason I changed my mind about posing for you.”
“We didn’t speak there. I would have remembered. Your voice is quite distinctive.”
She released a slow breath of relief. “I’m a wallflower at events such as that.”
“More’s the pity. And it seems my scars have dampened the mood. Climb on the bed. I’ll see to the rest.”
“I don’t find them hideous. They’re a symbol of courage.”
“More arrogance than courage. When captured by their beauty, I find it easy to forget that jungle creatures are wild.” He held her chin, kissed her. “I’m anxious to discover how wild a creature you might be. Get on the bed.”
Not so wild since she hesitated at the thought of removing his trousers. She gave a curt nod. As she clambered onto the satin sheets, aware of the tinkling of chains at her ankle, he began going around the bedstead, loosening the ties. The heavy velvet swung effortlessly into place, slowly enclosing her in the darkness.
Sitting there, she drew her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and listened to the muffled tread of his footsteps as he went around the room, no doubt extinguishing candle flames. She heard the thud of a boot dropping, then another. Straining her ears, she listened to the rasp of cloth as he shucked his trousers, but suddenly all was silent, all was quiet.
“Is the mask gone?”
She startled at the deepness of his voice, just on the other side of curtain. “Are your trousers?”
“They are.”
She could have sworn she heard a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Come on, V, I’m dying to ravish you.”
Taking a deep breath, she reached back and loosened the ribbons that held her disguise in place. Stretching out on her knees, she set it in a corner at the foot of the bed. Surely it would be safe there.
“I’m ready,” she said softly.
The darkness parted to reveal deep shadows. She barely made out the form of a large man. The bed moaned as he climbed onto the mattress, the drapes closing behind him.
Snaking an arm around her, he drew her flush against him, flesh to flesh, from shoulder to toes, the heated length of him pressed hard against her belly. Unerringly, his mouth captured hers, and he plundered.
SHE’D almost given herself away. He’d almost told her that he knew who she was. But for whatever reason, she needed the secrecy, didn’t trust him with the truth. Although at that moment, rakehell that he was, he cared only that she trusted him with her body.
Ashe intended to ensure she had no regrets on that score.
He cursed the blasted darkness. He’d wanted to do more than lightly trail a finger over her skin when she was bared to him, but he’d known that if he cupped a perfectly formed breast, pinched a pale pink nipple, buried his fingers in the curls between her thighs that he’d have not been able to hold himself in check. That he would have tossed her on the bed and had his way with her then and there.
But he’d wanted the damnable mask gone.
So now there was nothing to interfere with his enjoying her completely. Thrusting his hand into her thick, curling hair, he held her head in place while he thoroughly kissed every nook and cranny of her mouth. She tasted of wine and strawberry, decadence and desire. And she didn’t hold back. She was exploring his mouth with equal measure, her fingers digging into his shoulders, his back. She was a match for any man, and some faulted her for it. More the fools were they. Her enthusiasm was unrivaled, her eagerness incomparable. And he’d almost turned her away for being a virgin.
More the fool would he have been.
But then he’d spoken to her at Greyling’s, been intrigued. A woman who knew her own mind, a woman of daring and courage and candor. Well, perhaps not all candor. She wouldn’t reveal her identity. As much as he wished she would, he understood her hesitation. What was happening between them now would be frowned upon by polite Society. While she claimed she wouldn’t marry, if her visits to the Nightingale were discovered, marriage would absolutely no longer be an option. She would be an outcast, not even welcomed into ballrooms or parlors.
So he didn’t blame her for her caution. He would hold her secrets. All of them. Each one that he was uncovering.
The softness of her skin as he dragged his hand along her spine. The round firmness of her bottom as he cupped and squeezed it. The way her breast filled his palm as he cradled it. The sensitivity of the area just below her ear as he kissed it. Her sweet moan as she pressed her body more firmly into his. The hard peak of her nipple as his tongue circled it before he closed his mouth around it. The echo of her sighs, the feel of her sole rubbing his calf. The hot dew that coated his fingers as he tested her readiness.
Bracketing his hands on either side of her ribs, he buried his face between the pliant mounds of her bosom. He hated the thought of causing her any discomfort.
She threaded her fingers through his hair. “Ashe?”
“Are you certain you’ll have no regrets?”
“I’ll only regret if you stop.” He heard her swallow. “I want you inside me.”
In spite of the darkness, he squeezed his eyes tight and groaned low. Her words hardened him further. He’d already sheathed himself. He kissed the inside of one breast, then the other. “Then prepare yourself, sweetheart. I’m about to drive you mad.”
ABOUT to? He’d already accomplished that feat. Every inch of her that he’d touched yearned to be touched again, every nerve ending was straining for what she knew he could deliver, for the pleasure that had rocketed through her before. She luxuriated in touching him, the areas she could reach, caressing her fingers over the flexing and bunching muscles.
With his mouth and fingers, he taunted. He kissed, he suckled, he nipped. Until she was writhing beneath him, until she was striving to meld her body with his, until she felt the push of his hardness against her heated opening. She stilled.
“Don’t tense,” he commanded, withdrawing. “Don’t think of what’s coming, just think of what is.”
She nodded, realized he couldn’t see the movement. Bringing up her legs, she wrapped them around his hips, heard the clink of tassels bumping together. “All right. But I’m ready for you. I know I am.”
“I know you are, too, but there’s no hurry.”
“I thought you liked it rough and hard. Or was it rough and fast?”
“We’ll have an opportunity for that later. We have lots of time.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He slid up her, took her lobe between his teeth, and she moaned low.
“You’re in my arms,” he whispered hoarsely. “How could I be disappointed?”
She embraced him tightly. He’d said there were no falsehoods in his bed, and yet the words were hard to believe even though he uttered them with such conviction. Why couldn’t she have had this without a mask and shadows?
And what a silly woman she was to lament what she hadn’t possessed and not enjoy what she presently did. She had it now: his devotion, his desire. It didn’t matter that it would only be for tonight. The memory would carry her through to her dotage.
She became aware of the pressure again, the slow easing in slightly, easing out. His mouth on hers, drawing her away from everything except the glory of it. She thought of the fortune hunters. Would they have been this patient? Would they have taken their time? Or would they have simply pounded into her in order to proclaim duty met?
He rose above her, his hips undulating, each movement taking him deeper. She felt herself stretching to accommodate him, the discomfort so minimal as to barely be noticeable. His breathing became harsher, his arms trembling slightly. She ran her hands over his chest, aware of the taut muscles, the strain.
A final hard thrust that went deeper than any of the others. He stilled. Beneath her fingers, she felt some of the tenseness ease. He took her mouth in a hard quick kiss.
“You didn’t cry out.”
She squeezed her legs against his hips. “It wasn’t so bad.”
“High praise indeed for my talents.”
She blew out a puff of laughter, reached up, and bracketed his face between her hands. “I love the way it feels to have you buried inside me.”
His growl resounded around them; she felt it quivering in his throat. “I absolutely adore your forthrightness.”
Then his mouth was on hers again, and he began pumping his hips between her thighs, hard and fast. Sensations that had been hovering erupted into a burst of awareness and pleasure. Everything within her coiled and tightened.
He broke off the kiss, his movements quickening, and she became lost in the rapture, vaguely aware of screaming his name as a cataclysm engulfed her. He groaned, low, feral, and deep with a final thrust and a shuddering of his body. Taking quick breaths, he pressed his forehead to hers.
“Not fair,” she panted lethargically. “You didn’t scream out my name.”
“Because you stole my breath.”
Rolling off her onto his back, he brought her up close against his side, nestling her face in the crook of his shoulder, draping her leg over his thigh. She thought she should say something more, thank him. But she seemed capable of only drifting off to sleep.
SHE didn’t know how long she slept, but she awoke to his arm still around her, his free hand toying with strands of her hair. She wished she didn’t require the darkness, but she wanted nothing to ruin what had just passed between them.
“Was it all you expected?” he asked.
“How did you know I was awake?”
“Your eyelashes fluttered against my chest.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well?”
“More so. It doesn’t seem right that women can’t experience it outside of marriage.”
“Obviously, there are women who do.”
“But if they are caught, there are repercussions.” She eased up, placed her chin on his chest, and narrowed her eyes, trying to discern his silhouette. “For someone with an aversion to virgins, you certainly handled matters well.”
“Do you hurt?”
“I’m a little sore. Nothing I can’t live with. But how did you know the best way to ease things for me?”
“I have a friend who doesn’t share my aversion. I asked him about his experiences.”
She stiffened.
“Relax. I didn’t tell him why, and he was drunk. He won’t remember the conversation.”
Edward Alcott, no doubt.
“If you’re hungry, I’ll bring some food over,” he said.
“No, I should probably be going home now. My father is an early riser.”
“Are you done with me, then? Or would you like another night?”
Disappointment laced his voice. Moving up until she was half-draped over him, she laid her palm against his jaw. It was bristled now. “I never thought I could be so comfortable being completely naked with a man.”
“You’re not completely naked.”
Lifting her foot, she gave it a little shake, letting the tinkling of gold echo around them. “I don’t know that it’s wise to see you again. There is a risk I’ll get caught. It was always only supposed to be one night.”
He latched onto her hair, drew her down for a kiss. “And if I want more?”
There was more than the risk of getting caught. There was the risk of getting with child. “You told me that you only select a lady once.”
“As I said, I make exceptions for you. Besides, you’re not a fool. You know no other man can satisfy you as I do.”
She cradled his roughened jaw. “You are so arrogant. You have spoiled me for other men. I won’t be with other men.” But she couldn’t continue in this vein either.
“We don’t have to meet here. We could meet at my residence. It’s more private. But I want to know who you are.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Send me a missive if you change your mind. You know where to find me.”
“Are you angry?”
“Disappointed; although perhaps it serves me right that you should only want me for a night. I never considered how the ladies I selected felt afterward, knowing our time was done. I rather regret being such a bastard.” Rising, he placed a quick kiss against her lips. “Don the mask, sweetheart, let’s get you home.”
Then he was gone, slipping out between the part in the draperies. She contemplated for all of three seconds following him out, leaving the mask behind. But in the end, she snatched it up and secured it.
He traveled with her in the coach this time, his arm around her as she nestled against his side. They didn’t speak. She wasn’t certain there was anything else to say.
When the coach pulled up to the Twin Dragons, he didn’t react. She decided to take advantage. Moving up slightly, waiting for the footman to open the door, she looked back over her shoulder. “You don’t seem at all surprised by our destination. You had the driver tell you the address.”
“I gave you my word I wouldn’t.”
“Then why aren’t you questioning it now?”
“Because I instructed him to bring me to the address that you’d given him. My vow remained intact.”
The door opened.
“I see you’re as clever with your mind as you are with your fingers.” As she stepped out, his laughter followed her, making her smile. Halfway up the steps, she removed the mask. As she neared the door, she was so tempted to look back, but she knew he was watching, could feel his gaze on her as clearly as though it was a caress. She almost returned to him.
Instead, she carried on through the opened door, knowing that after tonight, everything would change.