What Lies Beneath

 

CARRICK WATCHED JULIET. She wore the same white-feathered Venetian mask she’d worn three nights ago, and her breasts nearly spilled over the bodice of her deliciously enticing silver gown. His cock hardened in approval.

“Fancy meeting you again, Juliet,” he drawled.

Her lips—such luscious lips—parted in shock.

Another man strolled across the room.

Carrick jolted from the spell. He rose and faced the other men. Merchants and laborers, for the most part. He knew how to deal with men of their ilk. “Gentlemen, I would like some privacy with the lady. Take your pick of the other women here, at my expense.”

“I beg your pardon,” Juliet said behind him.

“I beg your pardon?” one man echoed.

Two men came to their feet.

Another snorted and opened his mouth to object.

He nodded at the door. “Tell the lady of the house to send your bill to the Duke of Hamilton.”

“Duke of Hamilton?” one man said. He looked at Juliet. “Is this man who he says he is?”

She remained mute.

Carrick imagined she wanted to condemn him to the darker parts of hell, but he kept his attention on the men. They exchanged glances with one another, then shrugged and filed from the room.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Carrick faced Juliet once more. His gaze caught on the hint of pink nipples peeking out of her gown. A flush of heat tightened his groin. He had to maintain his dignity. It was one thing to desire a prospective mistress, quite another to ogle her like a common doxy. He returned his gaze to her face. The blue eyes staring back at him through the mask had narrowed.

“I am pleased to see you again,” he said.

She remained silent.

“Surely, you can’t be surprised to see me after what transpired between us at the Midnight Ball, Juliet.”

Something flickered in her eyes, but he couldn’t read her expression through the damn mask. He’d had quite enough of the thing. He rounded the table in two strides and grasped the ribbon holding the mask in place. Juliet jerked, but he grasped her shoulder with one hand and tugged the tie free with the other. The white satin mask fell to the floor.

Juliet stiffened.

Carrick’s breath caught. He’d known she was beautiful—after all, the silk creation hadn’t hidden everything—but unmasked… Almond-shaped blue eyes held his gaze with an intensity that started his heart to hammer. Dark hair framed high cheekbones and flawless skin. He well understood how her mother had named the establishment after the goddess Aphrodite. He was powerless to look away.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Juliet blinked, her thick lashes fanning her cheeks. She shifted, as if to stand, but he whirled and returned to his chair.

“A game of commerce, shall we?” he murmured.

“I am not for sale, Carrick,” she said in a fierce whisper. “You cannot just take my body.”

“I’m not trying to, lass,” he said.

Juliet snorted. “How did you find me? No doubt my aunt sold me out. Honoria doesn’t know how to keep quiet.”

Aunt? Lady Peddington? Interesting. “Your aunt told me nothing save that you had returned to your London home.”

Her mouth thinned. “Why are you here?”

He pulled the contract from his inner vest pocket. Alarm crossed Juliet’s face as her gaze fell to the parchment. With a grim twist of her mouth, she snatched it from his grasp and stared at the words.

Finally, she laid the paper on the table and rose. “I must speak with my mother.”

He pushed to his feet and stepped into her path. “I won’t force you, Juliet. I’m not that kind of a man.”

“Won’t force me? Then what is that?” She jabbed a finger at the contract.

“That is protection.”

The eyes staring up at him were rife with suspicion. “Protection? From?”

They stood close, her breasts inches from his chest. The perfume of her hair swirled around him. “From me,” he said. “This contract ensures you’ll never do anything you do not wish to do.”

Interest lit her eyes. “That includes bedding you?” At his nod, she added, “Of what possible advantage is such a contract to you when I’ve no intentions of letting you in my bed?”

“Time,” he answered truthfully. “The contract buys me time to seduce my mistress.”

Juliet laughed, a silvery sound filled with wry amusement. “I’ve seen it all in the brothel, Carrick. There isn’t a trick I don’t know.”

He grinned. “Then you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. I’ll send my carriage around for you in the morning to take you to Lennoxlove House. My mother and sister are in sore need of a dressmaker.”

She went ramrod stiff.

“Should you, indeed, prove impervious to my charms” –he flashed a smile— “sewing the gowns of the Dowager Duchess and her daughter will go far in establishing your reputation, will it not?”

She blinked. “Is this some sort of trick?”

He shook his head. “My mother and sister are in need of new dresses.”

“They will be there?” she said, then added as if speaking more to herself than him, “That is very good,” and he realized he’d erred. He hadn’t intended on his mother and sister being at Lennoxlove House. 

“The dowager duchess will not be pleased that her son has installed his mistress as her dressmaker,” Juliet said.

“She will not be staying permanently.”

“Neither will I,” Juliet said. “I see the contract allows for a cottage of my choosing.”

He angled his head in agreement. “Even here in London, if you choose.”

Juliet pinned him with a stare. “You will tire of me before the year stipulated in the contract—especially when I keep turning you away.” 

He bent his head until his lips almost touched her ear. She stiffened, but didn’t step away. “Shall we say I have until summer’s end to…woo you?” Carrick drew back enough to see her face.

A calculating gleam –with a hint of amusement—lit her blue eyes. “If I manage to resist your charms until the end of summer, you honor the contract for the year—the money and a cottage.”

He nodded.

The gleam darkened. “I sew your sister’s and mother’s gowns?”

“Aye,” he said.

“Done.”

“Done,” he agreed before she could recant.

“What if I lose?” she said.

His heart began to thud. “If you lose, my dear, I will have you.”

Juliet laughed. “Shall we seal the agreement with a handshake?” She extended a hand.

Carrick locked gazes with her and clasped her smaller hand in his larger one. He took a step closer and looked down at her. “Have you the courage to seal the deal properly?”

Understanding flickered across her face and her eyes narrowed. She pulled her hand free of his and for one horrible instant he feared he’d miscalculated. Then she seized his lapel and dragged his mouth down to hers.

The instant their lips met, need rammed through him. She stiffened, and Carrick realized he’d crushed her to him. He loosened his hold and cupped her face with his right hand. Hope surged through him when he detected a tremor in her body. His heart soared. She wasn’t as impervious to him as she thought. God help him, he wanted her badly.

She wasn't a doxy off the streets and this cardroom was no place to prove he could please her. Damn, she hadn't even signed the contract yet. He flicked her mouth with this tongue. His heart thundered. Would she allow him entrance? Juliet opened on a soft gasp and he plunged his tongue inside. He'd never tasted anything so sweet.

Desire muddied his thoughts. If he miscalculated without a signed contract, she could send him on his way with no chance to redeem himself. When was the last time he'd miscalculated with a woman? When had he known a woman like Juliet Thatcher?

Carrick broke the kiss and pressed her cheek against his chest. To his satisfaction, her heart beat just as fast as his. She would resist him through the summer, eh? It was just as he thought; the men she'd been surrounded with had treated her like one of her mother's whores.

With a final deep breath, he gave her a gentle hug then forced himself to release her. “I shall send a carriage for you in the morning.” He nodded at the contract resting next to the deck of cards. “Sign it and join me in Lennoxlove House.” He brought her hand to his lips and murmured, “Until we meet again.”

Carrick left her there, standing by the table.