“The previous Earl of Harcourt, Solomon Kincaid,” Rivers interrupted.
Ellis stared at him. “That’s well known?”
“Only by me,” Rivers said. “I always know everything. It’s my business.”
“Jesus, you should have been a spy. Well, Kincaid was reckless, inexperienced. And…” He trailed off as he pictured Kincaid’s blank eyes that horrible day when his life had been ended. “And a good friend. When Leonard came for us, I realized what a calculated mistake we had made, but Kincaid refused to return what we’d stolen. He thought it could be handled in a gentlemanly manner. He didn’t believe someone of his own rank could be so vicious. Because he’s never lived like you and me and seen these toffs at their worst. He hid it before he died and I’m still trying to figure out where.”
“Fuck,” Marcus grunted. “No wonder Leonard is out to get you.”
“Not just me,” Ellis said. “Everyone I love. He threatened my cousin, he’s been following my half-brother, he injured—” He cut himself off. There was no reason to bring Juliana into this mess. Not even with Rivers. “Leonard won’t stop. Even if I can find the item we stole, he might still exact revenge just because it pleases him. And if I can’t find what he wants? He will absolutely destroy my world, and any innocent in his way, to punish me.”
Marcus’s mouth was a thin line. “The tales about his violence are widespread.”
“I swear to you, I tried to reason with him, Rivers. Back at the beginning.” Ellis sighed. “I tried to manage. I tried to give him what he wanted, at any cost. But now I realize there’s only one way out of this for my family, for the ones I care for. And it’s for Winston Leonard to die.”
“He’s the third son of a duke,” Rivers breathed. “You’ll…be transported. Or…or hanged.”
Ellis nodded. There it was. The consequence he’d been trying to ignore. The one that rose up in his nightmares. The unavoidable end to his worthless life.
“I know,” he whispered.
Rivers’ jaw flexed and his gaze left Ellis’s. He said nothing as he took the glass of whisky and downed the rest of it in one long swig that showed no respect to the expensive quality of the drink. “Can I help?”
Ellis sagged a fraction at the question, at the kindness being offered through it. “You already have. Leonard attacked a few weeks ago. It went badly for him. That’s why he’s been in hiding. You helping me bring him out is enough. And as I said, I would never take care of the problem in these halls. I just need to find where he is so I can do it elsewhere.”
“I don’t like this,” Rivers said softly.
“You and I ran the streets for a long time, friend. Most of the men out there have some kind of code. Leonard doesn’t. He’s a sadistic brute, rabid with violence and power. He’s a dog that needs to be put down.” Ellis replied. “And since I’m the one who set this dangerous animal loose on my family, on innocents who don’t deserve the consequences, it’s my job to end it.”
Rivers ran a hand through his hair, but Ellis could see he wouldn’t argue. Because Ellis was right and they both knew it.
“Are you putting your house in order then?” Rivers asked. “With all those people who you say you love enough to protect?”
Ellis froze. That was a question he’d been trying to avoid as much as the others. By one means or another, his life would be over in a matter of days, maybe weeks. And he did have things he’d left unsaid and undone. Ends he recognized he should tie up, because once he made his move, he wouldn’t survive it. When he’d seen Gabriel in the crowd, he’d felt it even more powerfully. And their meeting, while brief and casual, had been tinged with all the love he felt for his brother. And the knowledge it might be the last time they spoke.
“I know I need to,” he said.
Marcus got up from his desk and came around to where Ellis sat. He leaned against the edge of the desk and looked down at him, his expression drawn with worry and sadness. “Then do it, friend. Say what you need to say if this is the only way. And do it fast.”
Ellis pushed to his feet and the men stood staring at each other for a long moment. What felt like an eternity. Then he extended a hand. “You were a friend to me and to my cousin when we needed one,” he said softly. “And you’ve done more than be a friend now. Thank you, Marcus.”
Rivers’ mouth turned up in the slightest of smiles at the rare use of his first name. He shook the offered hand. “It’s always been a pleasure, Ellis.”
Ellis sighed as he stepped away and pushed this connection aside. “And now I’m going to go drink myself utterly stupid in your club, lose all my blunt and find a woman to tup.”
“Ah, that’s the real payback then,” Rivers chuckled. “The woman you’ve been stalking through my halls the past two nights?”
Ellis ducked his head at the mention of Juliana. At the memory of her mouth on his. “I don’t think she’ll be back.”
Rivers arched a brow and tossed a glance over his shoulder. “She’s down there right now.”
“What?” Ellis snapped, racing to the window to look down over the debauchery below. His gaze narrowed as he instantly found the figure of Juliana Shelley in the crowd. He ground his teeth together. “That woman never listens,” he grunted before he pivoted on his heel and headed for the door.
Behind him, he heard Marcus’s laughter echoing as he called out, “Sounds like she’s your perfect match then, mate.”
Ellis ignored the jab as he clattered down the backstairs and stalked across the room toward her. He saw the moment she realized he was there. Saw it in the way she straightened ever so slightly, the way she veered toward him as if she were a divining rod and he water. Her eyes went wide under that plain mask she wore, and she took half a step back as he reached her.
He ignored the retreat and caught her elbow, guiding her across the room without speaking. He motioned to the man at the entrance to the private hall and he nodded, holding up four fingers to indicate which room they were to take for their “fun.”
“Ellis,” she whispered but didn’t tug against him as he hauled her into the room, slammed the door and locked it.
He glared at her as he raised a finger for her to wait. She watched, brow wrinkled as he crossed to the opposite side of the room. There was a screen there that he pulled down and latched before he spun around to face her.
“Juliana—” he began, trying to modulate his tone.
She cocked her head. “What was that? What did you do on the wall there?”
He gritted his teeth. Her innocent question proved his point that she shouldn’t be here. And it set his body on edge as he growled, “Some people who come to this establishment like to watch others in their private fun. Some like to be watched. A fine combination, so the rooms are rigged for such things. I closed the screen so no one could spy on us.”
Her full lips parted and she stared at him, then the wall, then back at him. “To watch?” she repeated.
He glanced up at the ceiling and took a slow count to five. “Yes, angel. Fucking is a spectator sport for some. It’s rather invigorating. What the hell are you doing here?”
She swallowed hard as his voice elevated, grew sharper. But she didn’t back down. Instead, she lifted her chin. “I don’t know why you think I wouldn’t come back. I haven’t gotten what I came for.”
He shook his head slowly. What she’d come for. Sex. The ridding of that pesky virginity she and her ilk put so much value upon. She’d come here to be…God, he could think of so many things he wanted to do to her. For her. With her.
And he couldn’t do a damned one of them. He wasn’t worthy of what he’d already taken, let alone more.
“You want this?” he asked, forcing his tone to lower, slowing it, narrowing his gaze as he held hers. “You want what you see out in those halls? You want what you read about in some sad little book your father hid? You want to be debased and debauched and ruined?”
She didn’t flinch, but instead her pupils dilated. “Yes,�
�� she whispered, her voice rough. “You say those things to frighten me, as if you think I’m some fool who doesn’t understand them. I may not be so versed in the ways of the world as you are, Mr. Maitland. I may not be jaded and experienced. But I know what I want. You can’t scare me away by shouting and blustering and trying to name it. Naming it only makes the ache…” She dropped her chin. “Worse. You only make the ache worse.”
Ellis was on fire. His blood burned, flowing through his body like lava. He wanted this woman so badly it physically hurt.
“Juliana,” he whispered as he stepped toward her. She trembled as he did so, looking up at him through those stunning pale green eyes. With a sigh, he hooked his fingers beneath her mask and pulled it away, tossing it aside.
“You are…” She was struggling to find the words, but she never backed down. “I know you only give if you can get something in return. You bargain and barter when it comes to…to this.”
He flinched but didn’t deny her. After all, that was a good summary of the transactional nature of most love games he’d played over the years.
“I’m not expecting to be different,” she continued. Her voice was shaking, her hands were shaking, but she didn’t stop. That strength drew him in. That strength made his own knees quake.
“No?” he pressed. “What do you expect?”
“You’re determined not to see me do what I want to do with the strangers I might encounter in this place,” she said. She drew a long breath before she continued. “So I…I’m asking to do it with you. I want you to be the one to give me what I need. And in return I’ll…give you something you need.”
Ellis had been standing so close to Juliana, but the moment she made her offer, he backed up, spun around, paced to the fire. His back was still to her and she saw his shoulders lifting as he took deep breaths. Was he offended? Amused? Shocked?
She had no idea. How she hated that he was so good at hiding all reactions and emotions unless it suited him to show those things.
She folded her arms and waited, determined not to beg for what she’d already asked for. The clock ticked on the mantel, taunting her with each passing second as they collected and mocked her.
At last he faced her. His handsome face was still unreadable. “What do you think I need, Juliana?”
“In the carriage, you said you wanted me,” she whispered. “ there is that, though I don’t have any illusions that you couldn’t satisfy your desires with a dozen other more experienced women.”
“A dozen women,” he said with a half-smile. “You overestimate my prowess.”
She clenched her teeth. “Mock me all you want, you know what I meant. I’m just saying that if my body isn’t enough to tempt you, I could…” She pushed her shoulders back. “I know you’re still looking for Winston Leonard. So are Rook and Harcourt. I can share their information.”
Ellis’s eyes went wide, and for the first time since she’d met him weeks ago, he actually looked…surprised. Was it possible she’d shocked the most jaded man she’d ever met? It seemed so.
He moved toward her. “You would betray the husbands of your sisters just so that I’d open your legs?”
She flinched at the crude way he put it. “It isn’t a betrayal. The three of you are trying to find the man for the same purpose, to stop his threats against all of us. To bring him to justice for what he’s done and what he’s capable of doing still.”
Ellis’s lips thinned, and for a brief but powerful moment, she saw sadness in his eyes. A heartbreak so real and so pure that it made her own chest ache at the sight. She moved toward him. “Ellis, what is wrong?”
He stared at her. “You’ve never called me by my given name before.”
She swallowed. She always referred to him as Ellis in her head. In her dreams. But she’d kept herself from being so informal when in the same space with him. To be so felt…dangerous.
Just as everything about this man was dangerous.
“Do you want me to stop?” she whispered.
He chuckled, and the sound seemed to enter her bloodstream and wend its way through her entire body. How could he affect her so without even touching her?
“No. Ellis is better than Mr. Maitland, by far,” he said. “And there is nothing wrong. You’re right, we all have the same end in mind when it comes to that bastard. To see him pay for what he’s done.”
“Then I won’t be hurting anyone by sharing what I see and hear and know,” she said, repeating the way she’d justified this plan in her head on the way here.
“Only yourself,” he murmured.
“How will I hurt myself?” she asked. Suddenly she felt so damned tired. Too tired to dance around the subject. “I’m ruined by the actions of my sisters, ruined by the scar on my face. My father has no intention of bringing me out again—he’s all but vowed I will be his hostess and secretary until he gives over his life. By then, I will be a spinster who will be forced to depend on the kindness of family. I am resigned to that, Ellis. Please don’t make me give up this one last chance I have to feel…to feel…”
“You cannot even name it,” he whispered. “Don’t you see what a problem that is?”
“I want to feel good,” she said, glaring at him. “I want to feel that dam of pleasure that builds when I touch myself at night. I want to feel the shivers of release like I do then. But I want to feel them with another person. I want to feel them with you. And if you won’t do it to slake your own desire, or to get the information I can provide, then I suppose I must remind you that you owe me.”
“I owe you,” he said. “How is that?”
She turned her face, flashing the scar that marred her skin. “You know why.”
It wasn’t a fair accusation, at least not entirely, but Ellis flinched at it regardless. He seemed to ponder the request…well, not a request, really. She was ordering him, wasn’t she? Forcing him through rather underhanded methods, truth be told. And she fully expected for him to put her in his carriage again and drive her home again and tell her…again…not to return. That was their game, after all, or it had become that in the past few days.
If he denied her this time, she would probably follow that directive at last. Coming back here over and over without getting what she wanted was too difficult. This was her last chance.
He moved forward, and she braced herself for some kind of playful, gentle denial. He reached for her, his rough fingers sliding along her jawline, his thumb pressing her lower lip as he stared down at her with those bright blue eyes.
“Then I owe you,” he said softly, hypnotically. “And the bill has come due.” He nodded slowly. “Very well.”
She didn’t have a chance to respond to the unexpected capitulation. He bent his head and, for the second time in their brief acquaintance, he kissed her.
For a moment, only their lips touched. He wasn’t holding her, he wasn’t pressed against her. It was just his mouth on hers, gentle, lips closed.
He was holding back and her frustration ratcheted up. This wasn’t what she wanted. Well, it was. Even this chaste kiss was…lovely. It was lovely, for his full lips were warm and soft against hers, the brush of them sending little crackles of awareness through her.
But she didn’t want crackles. She wanted lightning bolts and explosions. She lifted up on her tiptoes, winding her arms around his neck as a rough sound exited his lungs. She recalled how his mouth had opened the last time they kissed, so she did the same, drawing her tongue across his closed lips.
“Fuck,” he muttered against her mouth. His hands settled on her hips, and he tugged her a fraction closer as he tilted his head for a better angle. His tongue met hers and the world spun off its axis as she drowned.
He delved into her with great gusto, tasting her like she was a fine meal and he a man starved. He dueled with her tongue, sucking and swirling around it. And all the while, he inched her closer and closer, molding her body to his until there was no space between them.
Her heart pounded as s
he clung to him, a hard, powerful rock in the midst of a sea of desire. He was both the cause of her need and the salvation she would find from it. Assuming he wouldn’t deny her again.
She couldn’t take it if he denied her.
But he seemed to be in no hurry to do so. He slid his fingers into her hair, cupping her scalp as pins pinged on the floor around their feet. Her hair fell around them and he pulled back, panting as he stared down at her.
“So lovely,” he breathed, wrapping a long strand of hair around one finger. He lifted it to his nose and took a long whiff. “Vanilla and lemon.”
She smiled. “My soap,” she explained.
He leaned closer, to where their lips nearly touched. “Let’s find out if you smell that way everywhere.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t get a chance to question that statement, because his mouth was on her again, silencing her questions as he backed her toward the bed in the middle of the big room. She expected him to toss her on the mattress, lift her skirts and do what he would do. She was shaking with the thought of it.
But he didn’t. They stood beside that bed, inches from where all her problems would be resolved, and he simply held her. His arms were warm, his mouth gentle as he just kept kissing her like he could live that way forever.
She was shaking with anticipation and she drew back to look up at him. He smiled down at her in the soft light of the room. “You know, I’ve never had a lady scowl at me while I was attempting seduction. You are very unique.”
She hated that she wanted to laugh at that quip. This was serious business. He ought not to be joking around at a time like this.
“You are not seducing, though,” she pointed out. “You’re just standing here kissing me.”
His smile flashed wider for a moment. “Always a challenge. You don’t like it when I kiss you?”
She shifted. “I-I like it very much. It’s all I’ve thought of since the last time it happened. But I know full well that this…” She waved one hand around them. “…this isn’t just about kissing. If you’re going to do what I want, I’m just wondering when you’re going to do it.”
A Counterfeit Courtesan Page 6
