Simply Scandalous (18 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

BOOK: Simply Scandalous
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She tried to slap his face, scratch his eyes out,
hurt him
as much as he had hurt her. He grabbed her wrists and hauled them over her head, his hazel gaze resolute and fixed on her.
“I didn't say I believed him, did I?”
Violet glared up at him, aware that she was crying but unable to do anything other than lie there and shake with a combination of rage and disbelief.
“I don't think you could murder Jack, and I don't believe you are in league with Mr. Brown.” His grip on her wrists loosened slightly. “It seems to me that you are playing an extremely dangerous game, my love. What exactly
are
you planning to do with Mr. Brown, Violet? Double-cross him?”
15
E
mily straightened her back and marched into the larger of the two salons on the second floor of the pleasure house. Despite being dressed in men's clothing
and
being masked, she still felt rather conspicuous and expected Christian or Ambrose to spot her immediately and order her home.
The scenes of debauchery around her were quite startling, and she'd barely penetrated the depths of the pleasure house's famed activities. She studied the groups of men and women around her and realized for the first time that finding someone to relieve her of her virginity might not be as easy as she had thought.
After a sleepless night and a day spent rereading her mother's letters, she had decided that action was called for. At three in the morning, it had seemed obvious that she had nothing to lose except her reputation and her maidenhood. And if what she feared was true, her respectability was based on a lie. If Ambrose objected to her solely because she was innocent, he could hardly continue to object if she followed in her mother's footsteps and bedded a man. Then, unlike her mother, she would not marry some poor unsuspecting fool, but offer to live in sin with Ambrose instead.
She glanced around the room again and considered the men. She had no doubt that presented with the opportunity to copulate, most of the guests would happily oblige her. But would they expect to encounter an inexperienced virgin at the pleasure house? She grabbed a large glass of wine from a passing waiter and drank it down.
“Good evening, sir.”
She jumped as a tall young man addressed her, and almost dropped her glass.
“Good evening.”
“Are you new here?” He considered her masked face. “I don't believe we have met before.”
“I'm new.”
The man's smile deepened. “How delightful. And what takes your fancy tonight?”
Emily attempted to look bored. “I'm not sure.”
“Man, woman, or both?”
“Just one man, I think. I don't want to overdo it on my first night.”
“An excellent plan. Then consider me at your service.” He bowed. “My name is Michael.”
Emily paused to study him. He was tall, handsome, and seemed rather interested in her, but there was nothing about him that sparked her interest. But did that matter? As long as he was a man, surely he would do?
She sighed. “I'm Ross.” She extended her hand and he shook it firmly.
“It is a pleasure.” He glanced around the salon. “Do you like an audience, or would you prefer to retire to one of the private rooms?”
Emily wasn't sure if she appreciated his lack of embarrassment or was appalled by it.
“In private, please.” She glanced up at him. “You do realize I'm a woman, don't you?”
He smiled. “Yes, I had noticed that.” He gestured at the doorway. “Would you like to follow me?”
With all the anticipation of a condemned criminal stepping out onto the gallows, Emily followed Michael from the salon. He waited for her at the door and cupped her cheek.
“You are very beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
He brushed his mouth over hers, and she felt nothing. But perhaps that was for the best. She suspected she'd need to keep all her emotions tightly locked away if she was to get through this horrible night.
“Mr. Ross?”
A familiar voice intruded on her ears, and she turned to see Jack Lennox bearing down on her. His quick glance took in her attentive companion and he captured her hand in his.
“I'm so sorry I'm late, Ross. I had to run an errand for my poor, sick brother.” He smiled at Michael. “Thank you for entertaining my guest. I was worried he'd be too shy to talk to anyone.
Jack casually bent to kiss Emily's cheek, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pinched her hard. “Perhaps you might thank your companion for his company, and then we can move on to other, more interesting entertainment.”
Emily knew when she was beaten and held out her hand to Michael. “I apologize, sir. Perhaps next time?”
“Absolutely.” He paused. “Unless you'd both care to join me?”
As if he feared she might bolt, Jack tightened his grip on Emily's waist and drew her even closer. “Mr. Ross is not quite ready for such delights, but when he is, we will be sure to seek your company.”
Jack maneuvered Emily firmly toward the staircase and out onto the landing.
“What on earth were you doing, Miss Ross?”
“Going to bed with a complete stranger. What were you doing?”
He stared her down. “Why didn't you wait for me as we planned?”
“Because I wasn't certain you would turn up. I wasn't even sure if I wanted you to be involved.”
“You'd rather be mauled around by a stranger?”
“Yes!”
He opened his mouth to answer her and then shoved her behind the draped curtains at the window.
“Ambrose is coming!”
She shrank back against the wall and watched as Jack sprinted halfway down the stairs and concealed himself there.
After a few tense moments, she waved at him. “It's all right. Ambrose has gone back down to the kitchen.”
Emily didn't mention that she'd witnessed Ambrose fawning over Lady Mary again, the kiss she'd given him, the smile that had promised so much more. Unfortunately, Emily had been too far away to hear what they were saying to each other. For all she knew, they were arranging an assignation, although Lady Mary hadn't looked too happy as she walked past a hastily concealed Emily. The sight only convinced her that she was doing the right thing.
She turned to Jack. “Are you still willing to help me?”
“Are you still sure about this, Miss Ross?”
“Don't call me that here,” Emily hissed. “Call me Ross as you did before. I thought we'd already discussed this.”
“We didn't discuss anything. You told me to meet you here so that you could make Ambrose jealous, and I agreed to go along with it.”
“Exactly, you
agreed
.” She stared at him. “Have you changed your mind about helping me?”
“Of course not. I'm always delighted to help the course of true love. Although . . .” He hesitated. “I'm not quite certain how you intend to accomplish your goal with me rather than Ambrose.”
“I explained this. I need to make Ambrose realize I'm a grown woman who is perfectly capable of understanding all his needs.”
“By offering yourself to that man you just met?”
“Yes!” For a moment, Emily wanted to stamp her foot, turn tail, and run back to the comfort of her bedchamber.
Jack's skeptical expression faded and he drew her close. “Are you all right, Miss Ross? You seem rather distraught this evening. Are you certain you wish to go through with your plan?”
Damn him for being so perceptive and not the selfish rake he pretended to be. She'd forgotten he had a sibling. Perhaps she had chosen the wrong man after all.
She managed a smile. “If you don't wish to help me, I can go back and find Michael. I'll quite understand.”
“So I noticed.” His smile was wry. “You might understand, but your brother and Ambrose will never forgive me if I abandon you now. I'll play my part. I suspect I'll even enjoy it. You are a very beautiful and courageous woman, Miss Ross.”
She made a face at him but allowed him to escort her into the larger of the second-floor salons, where she stopped dead. There were even more couples in the room than there had been before. Some of the guests were now naked or busy removing their clothes. She spotted Michael with his arm around a rather feminine-looking man. Emily had never seen so much unabashed depravity in her life. She gripped Jack's arm.
“We don't have to do anything here, do we?”
Jack glanced around as if nothing he saw was out of the ordinary. “We can take a private room and lock the door if you prefer it.”
“And Ambrose will still be able to find us?”
“If I make sure someone sees me about to seduce you.” Jack smiled wickedly down at Emily. “Perhaps we should begin.”
“I. . .” Emily's words were cut off as Jack's mouth descended over hers and he began to kiss her with an expertise that both enthralled and repelled her. Within a few seconds, she'd forgotten how to think, as his tongue met hers in a teasing, gentle duel that made her lean into his strength, hers all gone.
When he finally raised his head, she was wrapped around him, one hand slid into the back of his hair, the other pressed against his heart.
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed.” His lowered gaze traveled down over her body. “Did you like that?”
Emily could only nod, and his smile widened. “Good. Now let's go and find a room. I made sure that Marie-Claude got a good look at us, so she'll probably be running to tell Ambrose right now.” He took Emily's hand. “In fact, let's make sure of it.”
He walked with her across the room to where a small, dark-haired woman was directing the servants at the buffet.
“Good evening, Marie-Claude. Are any of the rooms vacant?” He smiled down at Emily. “My companion is a little shy. It is her first time here.”
Marie-Claude stared hard at Emily. “Indeed. The third room on the right is free. You may take that one.”
“
Merci
.” Jack bowed. As Marie-Claude turned away, he leaned down to whisper loudly in Emily's ear. “See, Miss Ross? I told you that it would be easy.”
Even as Marie-Claude's head whipped round, Jack was pushing Emily into their allotted room and locking the door behind her.
“That should do the trick.” His smile died to be replaced by a far more speculative look. “If you truly wish Ambrose to think I have debauched you, you will need to remove a few of your clothes.”
“I know that.” Emily struggled out of the coat and waistcoat Jack had borrowed from his brother, Vincent, and started on her neck cloth. “How much should I take off?”
“All of it?”
“Surely not.”
Emily licked her lips as Jack strolled toward her, suddenly aware of being on her own with a devastatingly attractive man who appeared to have no morals. She went still as he cupped her chin and took possession of her mouth again. His kiss was even more visceral than the first, and it made her ache in quite unaccustomed places.
“Let me help you out of those clothes,” he murmured, his hand shaping her buttock, smoothing her in slow, sultry circles. Even though she knew she should say no, the feel of his hands was having a devastating effect on her senses. For the first time she could understand how an experienced man might lead a young lady astray.
She gasped as his palm slid inside her trousers, brushing her buttock as he pushed the fabric down her legs and helped her step out of them. Her shirttails fell almost to her knees, but she still felt naked.
He kissed her again, drawing her against the muscular planes of his body, one hand in her hair, the other on her hip. Her breasts seemed to be aching, and she rubbed herself against the hardness of his chest, seeking relief but only making it worse. She'd felt like this when Ambrose kissed her. Had she been wrong? Perhaps she just craved the touch of any man.
“Lovely,” Jack murmured, now kissing her ear, her throat, her collarbone. She gasped as he bent her back over his arm and kissed her breast through her shirt, his mouth dampening the fabric until the tight bud of her nipple was clearly visible.
She didn't stop him when he licked her there, too, and then sucked on her. By the time he'd worked his hand under her shirt and was caressing her hip and her buttocks, she was no longer quite sure where she was, or who she was, only of a need growing within her for something only the male body pleasuring her could provide.
“Jack . . .” she gasped.
“Mmm?” he asked, his fingers cupping her mound, his mouth raining kisses on her face.
“You are going to stop, aren't you?”
He held her away from him, and she wanted to moan her displeasure.
“Do you want me to?” He paused. “I intended to make you come without taking your virginity.”
“Make me what?”
He moved the fingers that were still lodged between her legs because she had trapped his hand there. “Climax, come, take your pleasure from me.” His thumb circled something sensitive and she shuddered and instinctively pushed down on his fingers. “That's right. If you want me like that, I can also use my mouth and my fingers on you.”
But did she want him? Didn't she want Ambrose more? Did she have to make a choice? In her pursuit of sexual pleasure, her mother hadn't cared who she hurt or what the consequences of her actions were. A fresh wave of pain swamped Emily and she could only gaze helplessly up at Jack.

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