by Sarah Hegger
In light of this, she started revisiting all she knew of Cole. He came from New York and she would eat her hat if he didn’t come from a house like this one.
Bridget carried on peppering the butler with questions. Did they have to sweep every day—yes, they did. Was that real glass in the windows—yes. How did they make it so sparkly—vinegar and water. He handled the barrage with grace and politeness.
They reached the first floor and he turned left, motioning her to follow. He opened a tall, carved wooden door and looked at Ellie. “Mrs. Pierce, we thought you might be comfortable in here.”
“Ho-o-ly.” Bridget walked to the center of the room and turned in a circle. “You could fit my entire family in that bed.”
She wasn’t wrong either. The room was beautiful and mad as she was, Ellie had to admit it. Cream walls and honeyed wooden floors made the room warm and inviting. Eau de Nile draperies around the windows and bed picked up the shades of another beautiful carpet taking up most of the floor space.
Light flooded through the entire wall of windows. A chaise was positioned before the windows, perfect for whiling away the day and soaking up the warmth.
“Mrs. Pierce?” The butler intruded on her examination of the room. “Is this tolerable? We can move you if it is not to your satisfaction.”
Ellie stopped in front of an oil painting of lilies that hung above the large hearth. “It’s beautiful.”
The butler bowed. “Mr. Mansfield will be pleased to hear so. He was most particular that we see you settled well.”
Oh, she’d bet Cole would be pleased. To be fair, he’d never outright told her he wasn’t rich, but he had let her go on thinking he was a man who lived on the next turn of the cards.
“I am sure you would like to rest.” The butler motioned a still chattering Bridget out. “Dinner is served at eight.”
“Actually.” Ellie wanted to be alone with her thoughts. “I’m not that hungry. I won’t be down for dinner.”
“Very good, Mrs. Pierce” He bowed. “In case you find yourself peckish, I will have a tray brought up to you.”
“No, you—thank you.” She may as well enjoy this lovely room. It wouldn’t be nearly as nice with Cole’s blood speckled over that silk counterpane. She kind of knew she was being an ass, but she felt misled, deceived, and completely out of her depth. Seeing his house, she couldn’t pretend she and Cole were like each other.
“Bye, Ellie.” Bridget waved to her. “If you get lonely, I can always come and visit.”
“No.” It came out louder than she intended, and she moderated her tone. “Thanks, Bridget, but I’m tired and have a bit of a headache.
Bridget frowned and looked like a perturbed angel. “Oh, Ellie, you should have said something. And here is me chattering and chattering and chattering. Why, I must be making your head hurt.”
“Miss Bridget.” The butler held the door open for her. “Follow me to your room. It’s pink.”
“Pink.” Bridget squealed and clapped her hands. “Do you hear that, Ellie? My room is pink.”
The butler glanced at her, and Ellie was almost certain she caught the ghost of a smile on his thin, grave face. “My name is Roberts, Mrs. Pierce, and we are pleased to serve you at Mansfield House.”
After they’d gone, Ellie wandered through a door at the far end of the room, and into her own bathroom.
Someone tapped on the outer door.
Ellie crossed to it and let them in.
A young maid with a big smile stood on the other side. She bobbed a curtsy. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Pierce. I’m Molly, and I’m here to help you.”
Behind Molly stood two of the male servants from earlier.
Molly motioned them. “I took the liberty of having bath water drawn for you.”
A bath in that lovely bathroom sounded like heaven, and opening the door wider, Ellie let Molly and her entourage in.
Molly went through another door, and Ellie followed her into a closet. Her bags were already there, and Molly set about unpacking them. Her few belongings would be entirely lost in a closet that size.
Ellie felt awkward standing there and watching Molly work. “I can do that.”
“Oh no, Mrs. Pierce, it’s my job.” Molly gently pried a shoe out of Ellie’s grasp. “And I’m happy to do it.”
“I can help.”
Molly turned and smiled. “Or you could have a nice hot bath while I finish.”
Feeling managed, Ellie backed out the room.
Molly lost no time in hurrying her into a bath. She picked up Ellie’s travel-worn clothing from the floor. “We’ll get these washed and pressed and looking better than ever.”
She stayed in the bath until her skin pruned and the water had cooled. Molly brought her a red robe in a wool so soft Ellie suspected cashmere. It wasn’t hers, but she wasn’t about to say no to something so lovely.
Molly left, and Ellie sat on the lovely chaise and looked into the evening. A glorious sunset painted the sky in vivid pinks and reds. It was like a daydream into another world. Chances were this was her first and last time to experience that sort of luxury. It could have been the lovely room, or the delicious dinner, or perhaps even the two glasses of wine, but Ellie was feeling much more relaxed.
A firm knock sounded on her door. “Ellie?” Cole said.
“Come in.” They might as well get it over with. Cole owed her some explanations.
Even without his jacket and in his shirtsleeves, his waistcoat open, this Cole didn’t look like her Cole. His black evening trousers fit him like they were made for him, which they probably were.
He stood in her doorway with a decanter and two glasses in his hand. “I came offering an olive branch.”
“You lied to me.” Ellie motioned him in.
“Technically, I didn’t lie.” Cole pushed the door shut with his foot and strolled deeper into the room. “Is the room all right?”
“It’s beautiful, Cole.” This Cole was a stranger to her. She felt cast adrift like he had dealt the deck differently, and she was still clutching a fist full of old cards. “Everything is beautiful. You know that.”
“You’re mad.” He perched on the window ledge near her feet and put the glasses and decanter down beside him.
“I was when I first arrived.” She took one of the filled glasses from him. “You made me think you were a gambler.”
“I was.” He poured another glass for himself. “I am still, except now I gamble on things other than cards.”
“Apparently.” She sniffed her glass. “Whisky?”
“What else?” He flashed his gorgeous, wicked grin at her.
There he was, the man she knew, and a weight shifted from her shoulders. The house had made her think she didn’t know Cole at all, but she did know him. At least one side of him. “So.” She motioned with her glass. “How did you go from five card stud to all this?”
“Practice.” He chuckled at her look of disgust. “I got my stake gambling. You know, I was good at it. But I always knew when to stop. I took my winnings and invested them.” He shrugged and sipped his whisky. “Denver is a town growing like a weed. Treat her right, and the lady will repay the favor.”
“You were always a charmer.” She really had no reason to be angry at him. “Why the secrecy?”
“A precaution.” He lifted her legs and sat on the end of the chaise. Placing her legs on his lap he stared into the darkening evening. “I was going to sell this house, but I think I’ll keep it for a bit.”
“Why?”
“Reasons.” He winked at her. “Are you still mad at me?”
“Not really.” Them sitting there like that was disconcertingly intimate, like a married couple enjoying the end of the day together.
Her senses woke to the possibilities of them being there like that. The bed was only a few paces away, and there would be no interrupting them tonight. If Cole kissed her, what would she do?
She almost snorted out loud. Like she would do anything other
than melt like butter on hot toast. Lying to herself had never gotten her very far, and she finally admitted a truth she’d been dancing around for years. From the moment Cole had walked into the Four Kings and given her a look loaded with desire and determination, she had been his. Only the timing had never been right.
“You’re frowning.” Cole wrapped a big hand around her ankle. “What’s making you frown?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.” Those lion eyes of his called her a liar. He refilled the drink she hadn’t been aware of finishing. “Tell me.”
She toed the line of the truth. “I was thinking about when I first met you.”
“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows. “That was some time ago.”
“Right.” And yet she could recall the exact shade of gray of his jacket and the blue watered silk of his waistcoat. He’d worn a white rosebud in his lapel and given it to her along with that rakish grin that had been playing merry hell with her since the first time she’d seen it.
“Shall I tell you what I remember of that day?” His gaze warmed like poured gold.
She doubted he remembered it as clearly as she did. “Tell me.”
“You were sitting on the bar, holding court to an audience eight horny cowboys deep.” Soft smile on his perfect lips he stared out the window. “Shit, Ellie, I’d never expected to see anything like you in the Four Kings. I came to play cards and ended up offering all the money I had in the world for one night with you.”
As much as his words thrilled her, she couldn’t afford to believe them. Cole could drag her deeper under his spell with his sweet talk, and she couldn’t afford that. “You knew I would turn you down. That’s why you made that crazy offer.”
“No, Ellie, actually I was praying you would say yes.” He turned to her with a face bare to the truth. He let her see behind his carefully constructed mask to where his desire was painted in bold, clear colors. “I still am.”
Her mouth dried and she took a hasty swallow of whisky. It scraped down her throat, hit her belly and spread its warmth.
“What’s it to be, Ellie?” Cole put his glass on the floor. “Time to let me know. Personally, I think we’ve both waited long enough.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Unable to hold the connection, Ellie dropped Cole’s gaze. This was it. Her opportunity to experience the missing part of her story, and she wavered.
She’d made her escape from the cathouse, and she wouldn’t go back. As for marriage, it wasn’t for her. It seemed even whores had more say over their lives and bodies than most married women.
“Ellie?” Cole leaned his elbows on his knees and studied her. “Is your silence a no?”
“Um, it’s not a no.” She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She’d seen more naked men than most women, certainly heard enough stories about copulation not to be ignorant. Yet, she sat there with her heart thundering and her palms sweating.
“I see.” Cole laughed. It did great things to his beautiful face. The sort of things that made her want to get close to his warmth and generosity. Taking her hand, he tucked it between his. “Are you nervous, Sugar Ellie?”
“Yup.” And she couldn’t even look at him as she said it. It was downright humiliating. In her head, things had gone a whole lot different. For one, she was wearing something more alluring than a robe, albeit cashmere. Also, somehow, she’d had it fixed that she would be doing the luring and seducing. Fat chance of that when she couldn’t even answer the man’s polite request. She took shelter behind the facts. “I think we should establish the rules first.”
Up went his eyebrow. “Rules? Why, Sugar, I didn’t know you were that kind of girl.”
“Wha—” Then she got it. “You’re teasing me.”
He threaded her fingers through his. “Set your rules, Sugar.”
“This is a once off thing.” She motioned between them. Her gut screamed that she had to keep it that way. Already, she liked Cole way more than she wanted to. Being intimate with him would only increase their growing connection, and she wouldn’t risk herself like that. “A friend helping a friend out.”
“Um.” Cole held his forefinger up. “In the interest of honesty, I feel the need to point out this is something I’ve been trying to make happen for a long time.”
“Yes, but not seriously. You were never going to pay all those thousands of dollars to lift my skirts.”
Cole shrugged “I guess we’ll never know for sure.”
“But—”
“Is that the end of the rules?”
Ellie got the feeling she was missing something, but Cole’s closed expression didn’t look like she would be getting any answers. “No. You’re leaving, Cole. Whatever we have ends here, and I think that would be best for both of us.”
“Agreed.” His expression darkened. “Ellie, you know I’m not free?”
Schooling her expression, Ellie nodded. “I know that. You and Victoria. Your heart belongs there.”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “To be honest, I don’t know if it does, but I need to find out.”
“I understand.”
He stood and strode to the empty hearth. “Ellie, this is dumb idea, and I shouldn’t even be entertaining it, but you opened a door that night in the hotel and I can’t get the thing closed again.”
“I know what I’m doing, Cole.” She recognized a man ready to retreat. Time to take a firmer hand in matters. “I know what this is, Cole. We both do.” She stopped in front of him and looked up. “If it hadn’t been for my inconvenient virginity, we would have gotten to this point before. Or maybe I misread you?”
“You didn’t misread me.” He touched the neck opening of her robe. “But this is your first time, and you’ve waited this long. It should be special, Ellie.”
“It will be.” She rose on her toes and pressed her mouth to the hard line of his jaw. His skin felt warm and slightly prickly from light evening stubble. “Along with everything else, you’re my friend, Cole Mansfield.” He smelled like leather and soap and she pressed her nose into his neck. “You’re the man I choose. The man I choose, and not one chosen for me.”
“What if you find someone more worthy?” He cupped her face and tilted her head up to him.
Ellie gripped the sides of his slim waist. “Then the widow Pierce will take herself a lover.”
“Ellie.” His eyes blazed. “Why me?”
“Because you’re you.” She could write him a list of all the reasons she chose him. One day she might write that list, when she was old and gray and remembering him with fondness. “And you’ll make it good for me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Won’t you, Cole?”
“Yes, Sugar Ellie.” He slid his arm beneath her knees and picked her up. “But we’re going to make this good for each other.”
The bed was soft at her back as he lowered her to it. “Cole?”
“Hmm?” He stretched out by her side and propped his head on his elbow. “More rules, Sugar?”
Ellie pointed to her bedside table. “I don’t want to get pregnant. I have something to stop that.”
“That’s good.” He smiled at her. “Any more rules?”
“Not that I can think of.” She wanted him to take control. Knowing how a thing was done, was apparently not the same as doing that thing. She shook her head. “No.”
“Okay.” He untied her belt robe. “Then I have some rules I’d like to lay down.”
He looked like he was being serious, and fair was fair. “Okay?”
“First.” He smoothed the skin between her eyes. “There will be no frowning.”
That she could agree to, and she smiled. “No frowning. Got it.”
“You’re a very good listener, Sugar Ellie.” He eased his finger under her robe opening, touched the indent at the base of her throat. “Second rule. No fretting.”
“I’m not fretting.”
Cole gave her claim the look of doubt it deserved. “I’ve got you, Ellie.” He trailed his finger
down her chest, nudging the robe open as he went. “Think of me as your guide through this journey into uncharted lands.”
“My guide?” His silliness made her laugh.
He reared up, looking affronted. “You doubt my credentials?”
“I don’t know about your credentials.” She met his stare and held it. “All I’m getting so far is a lot of jawing.”
“Oh, Ellie.” He shook his head and looked regretful. “You’re going to be real sorry you said that.” He spread the plackets of her robe open. “Now, for your instructions.”
Her smart response died on her lips as he ducked his head and kissed her neck. His mouth seared the delicate skin as he dragged the caress to her shoulder and back again.
“You may say the following things.”
She’d forgotten what he was talking about.
His lips found her earlobe and he breathed into her ear. “You get to say, ‘Yes, Cole.’”
“Yes, Cole.”
“Good girl.” He pushed her robe off her shoulder. “You also get to say, ‘More, Cole.’”
“More, Cole.”
“More what?” He touched his mouth to hers and withdrew. “More of this?” He pressed his mouth to hers for longer. “Or more of this.” His hand slid down her chest toward her breast and stopped frustratingly close to where she wanted him.
“More of both.”
“Such a greedy girl.” He cupped her breast and sent sensation arcing through her. Her moan was swallowed in his kiss. Unlike his other kisses, this one was a possession, a clear statement of ownership, and he took his time exploring her mouth.
His thumb caressed her nipple as he kissed her, making it so sensitive she wanted to cry out, but then he might stop, and she definitely didn’t want that.
“Ah, Sugar.” His hand moved from her breast and she made a noise of protest.
“Please.”
“I aim to, Sugar.” He studied the progress of his hand down her ribs and over her hip bone. Then his hand made a slow journey back to her breast. “I’ve waited a long time to have you like this.”
