THREE DESPERATE CHOICES: Brothers Mortmain Book 3

by North, Evie

  “I ache,” he growled. “I am in pain, Gabriella.”

  “Pain?” she whispered. He was staring into her eyes as if he wanted to devour her. “Where is this pain?”

  “Here.” He put his hand to his chest, above his heart. “And here.” His hand slid down to the bulge in his breeches.

  She felt dizzy. She shouldn’t do this, really she shouldn’t, and yet she was already reaching down to stroke him. He caught his breath. “Here?” she asked.

  “Undo the buttons,” he said, and his voice sounded as if he genuinely was in pain. “Please.”

  She bent toward him, her loose hair a veil about her face, the ends brushing against Maddox. He leaned toward her and breathed her in, and for a moment she felt his rough cheek against hers.

  “Take me out,” he whispered in her ear, his warm breath making her gasp. Or perhaps it was the way he felt when her hand clasped about the hard, warm length of him that made her gasp. He lifted his hips toward her, fingers clenching on the chair arms again as if his life depended on it.

  She began to pet him, touching, fondling, caressing him as he moved restlessly in his chair. Gabriella remembered how he had warned her that he would ‘come,’ and she wanted him to. She wanted to make him so hot for her touch that he would lose all control. But she wanted more than that. She wanted to assuage the throbbing ache in her own body at the same time.

  “Can you touch me too?” she asked, looking up at him.

  He’d been watching her fingers on him, but now he looked up at her in surprise. “I could, but…I’m not sure I trust my hands upon you. There is another way.”

  Her brow wrinkled in a frown. “Another way?”

  “You can use my cock,” he said.

  Was there a trick to this? Was he trying to persuade her into being his mistress, just as Lord Rattray had? But she didn’t think so. Lord Rattray would have made her do things with him, whether she wanted to or not, whereas Maddox was asking her. She trusted him, and although later, when she was alone, she was sure she would think herself a fool for allowing things to go this far, right now she wanted nothing so much as to feel the mindless pleasure he had given her once before.

  “Tell me how,” she said.

  “Lift up your skirts and climb onto my lap. That’s it …” He caught his breath when she wriggled closer and felt his cock slide along the slippery folds between her legs. “Feels so good,” he groaned. Then, his voice gone all raspy, he warned her, “Don’t let me inside.” His chest was rising and falling fast. “But you can use me like this. For your own pleasure.”

  She moved against him and after a few clumsy moments, discovered the motion that gave her the most bliss. The throbbing deep inside her intensified and she rested her hands on his shoulders so that she could better control her movements. Every time the head of his cock bumped against her sensitive nub she whimpered.

  He groaned. “I can’t hold on much longer,” he said, and each word sounded as if was forced from his throat. “Gabriella.”

  She moved faster, reaching for that peak she knew was waiting for her, and suddenly she crested it and cried out, shuddering, her body clenching and her heart pounding. A moment later he gave a loud groan and she felt him come.

  When she was able to think again her forehead was pressed to his but he still hadn’t let go of the chair arms. “What-what would happen if you were inside me?” she asked him, remembering his warning. “When you came?”

  He laughed softly. “You’re a virgin, Gabriella. If I was inside you then you wouldn’t be a virgin any longer. And fucking was never part of your terms of employment.”

  The words were brutal. She sat up, staring into his eyes and trying to read him but she couldn’t. His face was hard and distant, the man of moments ago shut away. She climbed off him, smoothing down her skirts and feeling the warm trickle of liquid run down her inner thighs. That was him and her, joined together.

  She had lost control of herself and put herself into danger once more. She’d known she’d regret it, but the truth was she regretted it far less than she should.

  She took a steadying breath, and then another. “Your friend Lawrence…” she began, not even sure what she was going to say.

  He was doing up the buttons of his breeches but now he stopped and frowned at her. “His name is Lord Entwhistle,” he corrected her, and it sounded as if she had overstepped some invisible boundry. It stung.

  “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t realise he had a title.”

  “He does.” Then, “What were you going to say about him?” His shoulders were tense, as if he was angry when a moment ago he had been hers to do with as she wished.

  “I don’t know…” she stammered, feeling out of her depth. “Only that he seems very friendly. And-and charming.”

  His blue gaze went icy. “I’m well aware of how charming Lord Entwhistle can be, but remember who is employing you, Miss Jones. Don’t let him charm you too much.”

  “I wasn’t going to…” she stuttered.

  “And don’t think you can use him as you just did me. I would not find such behaviour acceptable. Do you understand?”

  She raised her chin, feeling the stirrings of anger through the hurt. “I am not your mistress, Maddox. You cannot tell me who I can or cannot give my body to.”

  His jaw tightened but all he did was repeat his question, “Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  He rose to his feet and walked away.

  Gabriella stared after him. She knew he only called her ‘Miss Jones’ like that when he wanted to put her in her place. But what was her place? After what had just happened she was even more confused.

  She turned back to the window and leaned on the sill to stare at the passersby on the cobbled street and the barges sailing up and down the waterway. His scent and the feel of his body was all over hers. They had been intimate in the most profound way, and yet he had spoken and walked away as if she meant nothing.

  15

  MADDOX

  Maddox kept his distance from her after their heated moment together. It had been another mistake but whenever he thought of it he only wanted to repeat it again and again. The feel of her swollen lips against him, the catch in her breath, the pounding of his heart. Every night he thought of walking into her room and taking her sleepy, soft body into his arms and kissing her until she let him do as he willed.

  He knew now that she would let him. It wouldn’t take long before she was gasping and begging, as hot for him as he was for her.

  But that would be wrong. He had promised himself he wouldn’t take her maidenhead, that he was going to be a better man, and he was determined to be strong.

  Apart from his desire for her, which was like a tooth ache that refused to go away, the weeks passed in pleasant enough fashion. But something that began to worry Maddox more as time went on was Lawrence’s continuing flirtation with Gabriella.

  Maddox had warned him to leave her alone, but Lawrence carried on regardless. He’d caught him buying her flowers and presenting them to her in the little parlour downstairs as if she was a lady born and bred. As soon as Lawrence was gone and Gabriella was otherwise engaged he had gathered up the bouquet and handed it over to a woman passing in the street.

  When Lawrence found out he’d laughed himself dizzy. Had the man always been this annoying? They’d been friends since childhood, before the wager was even thought of, but they seemed very different now. Or was it just that Maddox had changed? He’d even heard himself reminding Lawrence how harmful his present life was to himself and others, and that the women he seduced might not thank him in the morning. Lawrence had looked at him and demanded to know if he was really Maddox Hawley or some do-gooder in disguise?

  There were times when they still found a sense of camaraderie. Most evenings they sat together at one of the two outdoor cafes, drinking wine and talking about old times. Sometimes Gabriella came too—Lawrence usually invited her despite Maddox’s scowls—and she wou
ld sit smiling, listening to them talk. When Maddox looked at her in the fading light she would have a wistful expression on her face, as if she wanted so much to be part of their little group.

  He supposed growing up in an orphanage hadn’t given her a wide circle of friends and she obviously had no family. She was alone and whenever he thought about that he wanted to put his arms around her and hold her tight to his chest.

  But he didn’t. If he did then Lawrence would comment or think he could do the same, but also because the thought of her warm body in his arms was so enticing, he wasn’t sure he could stop at a simple hug.

  Watching her face as Lawrence flattered her, the shine of her dark eyes and the flush on her cheeks—her skin had a golden tan now, from the warm Italian sun—he knew he was in trouble.

  He had sworn to himself that he would be an honourable man, and in his way he was trying to keep that vow. She’d touched him, he’d given her pleasure, but in his heart he had not broken his word. He had crossed a number of lines, it was true, but never the most final of them. If he did, he would lose something important. And this girl inspired him to try harder.

  One evening, Lawrence didn’t arrive at the house to accompany him to their preferred café by the quay, and on impulse he asked Gabriella to join him. It felt strange not to have Lawrence there as a buffer, and she was quieter too, as if she didn’t know what to say to him in this intimate setting. She could not disguise her delight in their surroundings however, and seeing her embrace her new life made him happy. Made him smile. He hadn’t realised how jaded he had become before the duel and their chance meeting in the inn at Dover.

  “I wonder what Lord Rattray is up to,” he said out of the blue, and then wished he hadn’t.

  Her startled gaze jumped up to him, before she looked away. Her wine had been untouched, but now she picked up the goblet and took a drink. “I haven’t thought about him at all,” she admitted. “The days pass so pleasantly. I suppose I should be considering my future.”

  He frowned. “I thought we’d decided that your future is whatever you want to make of it, Gabriella.”

  She smiled at him, though there was something in her eyes that made him think she was only humouring him. As if she was far older and wiser than him. It irritated him and his frown deepened.

  “What?” he demanded.

  “I know you think it is that simple, but …”

  “But what? It is that simple.” He leaned forward, trying to impress upon her the truth of what he was saying. “Choose whatever it is you want to do, Gabriella, and I can make it come true.”

  She lowered her head, watching him coyly. Her dark eyes shone through her long lashes, and her lips were red from the wine. Instantly his groin tightened. God he was in trouble.

  “I’m not sure I want to live off your money, Maddox,” she said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was brought up to believe it was wrong not to work for your living. I need to make my own way in the world.”

  He snorted. “I was brought up to take whatever chances I found in my path, if it meant I could live a more comfortable life.”

  A more honourable life, he reminded himself, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

  “Perhaps I could be your patron?” he added when she didn’t answer.

  “Like a musician or a painter, do you mean?” she asked doubtfully. “I don’t think I am special enough to need a patron, Maddox.”

  He wanted to tell her just how special she was, but he bit his tongue.

  Gabriella still looked doubtful. “I haven’t written one letter for you and yet I am supposed to be your secretary. How can I take my wages when I am doing nothing to earn them?”

  Maddox wanted to argue that she had saved his life, but technically she was right. Suddenly he was all animation, sitting up straighter and, with a snap of his fingers, he called out for the café proprietor.

  “Pen and paper, at once!”

  Startled, Gabriella watched as the man scurried to obey. Maddox had expected nothing less—no one dared say no to Maddox Hawley, the son of the Earl of Mortmain.

  When the pen and paper were on the table before him, he thought for a moment, gazing upwards at the star filled sky. Then he lifted the pen, dipped it in the ink, and handed it to her.

  “Dear Mr and Mrs Laurel.”

  Gabriella gaped at him. “You want me to write to my previous employers?”

  “You are my secretary, Gabriella. You do not ask questions. You write.”

  She drew the paper towards her and began to write.

  “I wish to bring to your attention the behaviour of your eldest son. It has come to my ear that he is in the habit of seducing innocent girls and—”

  She set her pen down. “I cannot write that!” Her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkling. “You are mocking me.”

  Maddox had been teasing her, but now, seeing her air of wounded dignity, he was sorry. He sighed. “Only a little. I think the letter needs to be sent, if only to show that family not everyone is comfortable with the way they deal with their son’s crimes.”

  “Written by me?” she said, still not happy.

  “Yes, well, perhaps not.”

  He reached out and waited for her to hand him the pen. After a moment of thought he began to write the letter in a quick, untidy hand.

  “I suppose you really do need a secretary,” Gabriella murmured.

  “My thoughts run faster than I can keep up with them,” he responded, and looked up with a smile.

  She smiled back and just like that he was lost.

  What was it about this girl that unravelled him? He’d known many women, slept with plenty, and it had never meant anything. He and Lawrence had had their wagers and he hadn’t thought about the wrongness of it all, not until that moment when he saw the girl in the alley, and suddenly everything changed.

  Perhaps it wasn’t that simple. He had begun to change then, to really think about his life choices, but the real change had happened when Gabriella Jones walked into his room at the inn. He had played the hero and saved her from the attentions of Lord Rattray but more importantly, instead of taking the other man’s place as her seducer, he had stepped up. More or less.

  Maddox had done his flawed best to become a hero.

  He had been silent too long. Gabriella’s smile had faded and she was giving him uncertain glances, as if wondering what she had done wrong.

  “Should we send it?” he asked her, folding the letter, uncaring when the ink smudged.

  “No. I don’t want to think about the Laurels. I don’t want to remember what happened there. I’m happy now. I wish …” She bit her lip.

  “You wish what?”

  She spoke in a rush. “I wish it could always be like this.”

  He felt something inside his chest, as if there was a fire growing in there. Not a large roaring fire but the small glow of coals. With a smile he reached over and caught her hand in his, smoothing his fingers over her soft skin, playing with her fingers. “We could stay here forever. If you like.”

  He wasn’t sure whether he was making a joke or not, but she laughed as if he had.

  He leaned closer, until they were only inches apart, and her eyes widened as they met his. He saw her lips part, her soft breath expelling as if she wanted him to kiss her. And he did, so badly.

  “I mean it,” he said, his voice choking up. “We can stay here forever, Gabriella.”

  “What do you mean? As your secretary or your …?” but she didn’t say the word.

  “Whatever you want,” he answered her. The words were said before he could stop them, and suddenly he felt shaken. Let down. No longer the noble and heroic man he aspired to. He opened his mouth to refute them, but she was already dragging her hand from his.

  “No,” she said, a mixture of anger and distress in her dark eyes. “I won’t be like that. You cannot buy me, Maddox. I won’t be…” And before he could tell her how sorry he was, she was gone, hurrying away across the s
quare in the direction of the house.

  He sat and watched her until she turned a corner. He felt sick. He hadn’t meant he was going to buy her. Or had he? He’d spoken without thinking. As they’d sat there with her hand in his, her beautiful face before him, he’d wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her.

  Because he knew now what he hadn’t admitted before.

  Maddox had fallen in love with her. The earl’s disgraced son had fallen in love with a disgraced governess, and he didn’t know what to do about it. But she was right to run from him. Despite all his newly minted morals he still spent every day thinking about seducing her. Even if he didn’t fully act on it.

  Maddox lifted his hand. “More wine,” he shouted, and he kept ordering it, long into the evening.

  16

  GABRIELLA

  She was half asleep by the time Maddox returned. It was very late, and she had struggled to fall asleep properly, still upset from his suggestion they stay here together, with her as his mistress. It made her angry that he didn’t understand that when she had sat on his lap and pleasured herself, it was done freely. He had taken that act of free will and turned it into something loathsome and mercenary, as if she expected payment for it.

  The downstairs door slammed.

  Suddenly awake she listened to him stomping around below before he began to climb the stairs.

  A moment later there was a clatter, as if he had fallen. There was a long silence after that and Gabriella stared at the door and listened. She almost got up to check on him, until she heard him chuckling to himself. It seemed Maddox was lying on the stairs, no doubt looking foolish, and laughing at himself.

  Perhaps he wasn’t alone? Perhaps he had found another to take her place?