Submissive Sirens 2
Jessie’s Jewels
Lady Jessamy Cumberland values her independence, and she won’t give it up for anybody. Well, she might be persuaded to compromise for some steamy sex, especially if the sex involves her scrumptious butler and dashing neighbor, the duke…but it won’t be forever. Will it?
Jessamy can’t ignore her feelings for either man, and she goes willingly down the garden path that leads to a BDSM fantasy with all the trimmings.
Liam Douglas has worked as a butler for Lady Jessamy for years, and he’s tired of ignoring his feelings for her. It’s complicated, though, because he’s also tired of hiding his feelings for the duke.
His Grace, Duke Gabriel Hartley, is a self-confessed pervert. A Dom by nature, the duke wants Jessamy and Liam in his bed, and he’s willing to do what it takes to get them there.
Will lust be enough when a mysterious threat arises?
Genre: Contemporary, Menage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 63,079 words
JESSIE’S JEWELS
Submissive Sirens 2
Charlotte Smith
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
JESSIE’S JEWELS
Copyright © 2012 by Charlotte Smith
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-182-5
First E-book Publication: September 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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JESSIE’S JEWELS
Submissive Sirens 2
Charlotte Smith
Copyright © 2012
Chapter 1
Lady Jessamy Cumberland was cranky. She was very conscious, as she stared at her reflection in her dressing table mirror, that cranky was not a word her late mother would have approved she use. Cross, perhaps, would have been more acceptable to Lady Catherine, or ill-tempered. Jessie could picture her mother’s face becoming pinched at her daughter’s use of common language, a long-suffering sigh escaping Lady Catherine’s small, thin-lipped mouth.
Good thing she’s not here to hear it, Jessie thought with a grimace. Her mother had died nine years ago, when Jessie had been all of nineteen. And Jessie was honest enough with herself to admit her mother wasn’t missed much, by her or anyone else.
Jessie smiled a little, stretching her arms above her head and luxuriating in the knowledge that she could be as cranky as she wanted. She pursed her mouth, looking around the room behind her for a way of venting her grumpy mood. Her eyes lighted on an oversized pillow on the floor beside her bed—she must have missed it when she made the bed after getting up this morning. Jessie rose, circling around the pillow and stalking it like prey. She stooped down, plumping it for a moment before standing straight and deciding on a trajectory.
“Ha!” Jessie shouted, kicking the pillow across the room. “Take that!”
Satisfied, Jessie flounced back to her dressing table and sat staring at her reflection once more. Her reflection stared back at her, and Jessie winced at the moodiness her reflection displayed. Damn. I really do look cranky.
She sighed as she passed a hand over her eyes. If she looked cranky, she had good reason. The daughter of a lesser-known English marquess, Jessie was the last of their family line. After her mother’s death almost a decade before, the title had fallen to her brother, Christopher, and Christopher had wasted no time burning through family money, reducing their estate almost to name only. Hell, she’d even tried to escape her family by getting married. It hadn’t worked—the wedding didn’t happen—and she grimaced as she remembered how that had gone.
Her brother was dead, too, Jessie reminded herself. He’d gambled their fortune away, drinking like a fish and developing a taste for more exotic forms of entertainment, ultimately succumbing to a heroin overdose two years ago and leaving Jessie alone.
Now she felt the weight of her title like a burden. After settling her brother’s impressive debts and paying off the last of her mother’s medical bills—bills her brother hadn’t thought to pay before indulging himself in liquor and drugs—Jessie had been left with little more than enough to pay the servants’ salaries before dismissing them. She’d written them all fine letters of reference and had tried to keep track of them long enough to make sure they all landed on their feet, securing employment with other titled or wealthy families. In all honesty, she hadn’t been able to, and it broke her heart that her staff—her real family, as far as she was concerned—were scattered all over Great Britain. Many of them had cried when they left. Jessie certainly had, because amidst the clusterfuck of illness and addiction surrounding her, the servants had been a better family to her than her own blood. The only servant she’d retained had been Liam.
Jessie slammed out of her chair, walked to her closet, and grabbed riding clothes carelessly off their hangers. She’d kept Liam, and it had been both the best and worst decision of her life.
She’d had to keep him, because he simply wouldn’t leave. He
’d sat in her office, his arms crossed across his massive chest and his long legs stretched in front of him, booted feet planted firmly on the floor. Jessie remembered the butterflies in her stomach and the way her gut had clenched, and she had to admit it wasn’t just because she had to turn him away. She’d had a crush on him since he’d started working for her family, and it made her even more miserable to have to tell him she couldn’t afford to pay him any longer.
Jessie had tried to dismiss him, tried to explain that she could no longer afford to pay him his wages. He’d listened patiently, not batting an eye and smiling encouragingly when her voice faltered and her eyes welled up. It seemed to Jessie that Liam always smiled. His smile was like a ray of sunshine, and her life seemed to always be raining. Well, Jessie reminded herself with a snort, I do live in fricking England. It pretty much is always raining.
When she’d finished, she sat staring at her hands, waiting for him to get up and leave. He was the last of the servants she had to let go, and she had the hardest time saying good-bye to him. When he didn’t move so much as a muscle, Jessie looked back up at him and saw that he was watching her intently. And then he started to speak.
* * * *
“Why do you think you need to let me go?” Liam looked at Jessie curiously, his grey eyes grave with concern. His Scots burr always sounded so musical, his gravelly voice dripping over the syllables like honey.
Jessie drew a painful breath. This one was harder than the others, she assumed, because Liam had always looked out for her. And it didn’t hurt that he’d hated Christopher as much as she had at the end of her brother’s life.
“Lady Jessamy?” he prompted her, reminding her that she really had to do this.
“Liam, I’m sorry. I can’t afford to keep you on.” Jessie went for broke, figuring honesty was the only thing that would work with him. “Christopher burned through everything we have. Right now I have the manor and everything in it, but my reality is that I’ll have to sell some things—or everything—if I hope to survive. I have enough for myself, but I just can’t afford to keep anyone on. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
Liam listened, his sensual mouth turning down at the corners. “Your brother spent everything?”
Jessie laughed bitterly, leaning back and running a hand through her long dark hair. “What he didn’t spend when he was alive has to be given to his creditors. He still owes a huge amount, and I need to pay it.”
Liam uncrossed his arms, leaning forward. “That bastard is still ruining you from the grave.”
Jessie sighed wearily. “Maybe so, but I have to deal with it.” She looked him squarely in the face, deliberately hardening her voice. “Liam, I’m sorry. It’s not like I have any other options. I’ll write you an excellent letter, make sure you find work with another family...”
Jessie trailed off as Liam held a hand up.
“You’ll do no such thing. I don’t intend to be going anywhere.”
Jessie stared at him, not sure where he was going with this. “Liam, aren’t you listening? I can’t pay you.”
Liam was shaking his head. “Tell me, Lady Jessamy, are you afraid of hard work?”
He’s lost his mind. That was the only explanation Jessie could think of. “Excuse me?” She injected her voice with every aristocratic shard of ice she could manage, which wasn’t inconsiderable. She was a Cumberland, after all.
“I’m just saying, Lady, that you must have worked incredibly hard to become a Marine. Doesn’t seem like you shy away from what’s difficult.”
Jessie gasped. “How did you know that?” She’d been so careful, not even her family knew she’d been at Parris Island.
Liam relaxed once more, crossing his arms again and smiling at her. “I know, dearie, because I work for MI6.”
* * * *
Her life changed during that conversation. Liam had known—heaven knows how—that when Jessie was supposed to have been attending Cambridge getting a degree in something utterly useless, she’d actually been living in the United States training to be a Marine. It was the only thing she’d ever done just for herself, and it was a secret she kept close to her heart that she savored when things were tough. At least, she’d thought grimly to herself, at least I’ll be able to protect myself if my brother’s bookies come knocking.
Liam had revealed himself to be a handler for MI6. Jessie remembered how her mouth had fallen open and she’d goggled at him shamelessly. The perverse thought had crossed her mind that she was in the middle of firing James Bond.
Liam explained that he handled an agent who lived close by, and that his position as butler and groom to the Cumberlands gave him a perfect reason to be in the area without attracting suspicion. He’d informed her—he certainly wasn’t asking her permission—that he was going to stay on in the role of general manservant so he wouldn’t attract attention. And then he’d given her the shock of a lifetime.
Apparently, Liam’s employers had been aware of her activities with the Marines and they’d had an eye on her for some time. Liam offered her the opportunity to work for MI6, explaining that he’d become her handler as well.
Jessie had jumped at the chance, not batting an eye before saying yes. From that perspective, keeping Liam on as her manservant had been the best decision she’d ever made.
Chapter 2
Jessie’s breath caught as she entered the small but well-kept stable. And this is why retaining Liam was the worst decision I’ve ever made.
He was brushing his horse, crooning softly to the big animal. Jessie could hear his lilting accent as he murmured to the gelding, his deep voice as mesmerizing as his hands that ran the brush over the horse’s chestnut coat.
Jessie practically melted. Liam hadn’t seen her yet, and she stood silently in the shadow of the doorway so she could watch him. Her eyes caressed his big body, taking in the faded T-shirt he wore that clung lovingly to his broad shoulders. The thin material rode up on his back as the muscles beneath bunched and flexed, and Jessie was treated to a delicious inch of skin that appeared above the band of his jeans. The jeans rode low where his broad back tapered to narrow hips, and Jessie almost drooled over his tight butt.
She realized that while he had his back to her now, he’d be moving around the horse in the next couple of moments and she’d be caught staring at him. She took a silent step back out the door and moved forward, this time making enough noise to ensure he heard her approach. He turned when she entered the stable, making her heart skip a beat with his slow smile, his killer dimples on display.
“Good morning, Your Ladyship.”
Jessie sighed. “Liam, we’ve talked about this. It’s totally awkward for you to use my title at this point. We’re equals, and you should treat me as such.”
Liam’s smile grew wider. He loved to tease her. “Ah, yes, but then, dearie, I’d have to pretend I was as civilized as you and eat with the right fork all the time. What a chore for a savage who likes to eat with his hands.”
Unwittingly, Jessie felt her gaze drawn to Liam’s big hands. He toyed with the brush he’d been using on the horse, and Jessie pictured all the things he could do with his hands. She pictured him lifting food to his sexy mouth, smiling at her as he fed her from his hands as well. She watched as he stroked the horse, shivering a little at the thought of those big hands on her own flesh.
With superhuman effort, Jessie shook her head to clear it. She rolled her eyes so he’d know she was teasing him back. “Then perhaps I should start calling you My Lord. That would even the playing field.”
Liam stilled, his eyes like lasers on her. “No, Lady, that title isn’t for me.” His smile returned to his face, and he grinned at her. “Och, lassie,” he said, exaggerating his Scottish accent, “I’m nay more than a Highlander. Dinna worry yerself wi’ such fanciful thoughts.”
Jessie laughed, shaking her head at him. He always cheered her up.
“Were you wanting to go for a ride?” He’d put the brush down, circling back around
his horse to stand before her.
“Yes, I think so. I’ve been...restless this morning.” Jessie blushed, thinking about how hard Liam would laugh if he knew about her kicking the pillow in her bedroom. She blushed harder, thinking about what he’d do if he knew what was in the small bag she carried with her.
“All right.” He looked at her curiously, his lips twitching. “I’ll saddle Aphrodite.” He turned away, walking over to the stall next to the one his horse, Tin Man, occupied. Aphrodite nickered softly, recognizing the big man as he entered her stall. She nosed around him, no doubt looking for treats, and Liam stroked her velvety nose.
Lucky horse, Jessie grumbled to herself. She cheered considerably when Liam led Aphrodite out of her stall, holding her still for Jessie to mount. Jessie had one foot in the stirrup and was about to hoist herself over the mare’s back when she felt Liam’s hands on her hips. He was pressed close behind her, so close she could feel his warmth against her back, and his big hands almost spanned her waist. He picked her up like she weighed nothing, holding her while she settled herself into her saddle.
“Thank you, Liam.” Jessie’s voice sounded breathless, even to her.
“My pleasure, My Lady. What time should I be expecting you back?” His eyes had gone dark, like a stormy sky.
“I’ll be two hours at the most. I have my cell, so call if you need me.” Jessie smiled, touching her heels to the mare’s flanks. Aphrodite was off like a shot, settling into an easy canter as Jessie leaned low over her neck, giving her her head and loosening her grip on the reins. The sweet wind streamed through Jessie’s long hair, whipping it back, and she turned her face to the warmth of the sun. Aphrodite knew where they were going. They went often, and Jessie let her find her way as she reveled in the exhilaration of the ride.
Jessie's Jewels [Submissive Sirens 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 1
