by Monica Burns
A dim memory of Caroline sobbing softly outside Ivy’s door in the middle of the night rose up to haunt her. Her cousin had never been prone to crying, and at the time, she thought it the sound of guilt. She remembered little of her cousin embraced in Whitby’s arms except for the agony it had sent spiking through her. It was the first time she’d ever considered the possibility her cousin might have been not as willing as Ivy had thought. She quickly dismissed the thought.
“Bearable?” Puzzlement echoed in Simon’s voice. “We’re you unhappy there?”
“It was…Caroline was the only one who loved me. My aunt and uncle…”
“They were unkind to you.” There was a fierce anger in his voice that made her heart skip. Like Caroline always had, he seemed ready to take on those who’d hurt her. The thought warmed her heart.
“Yes.”
“Family is important, Ivy. Without them you’re alone,” he said quietly.
There was an emphatic note in his voice that stressed how deeply he believed his affirmation. He almost had her believing she could put the past behind her where Caroline was concerned. Ivy’s heart skipped a beat. She’d revealed too much to him, which was a dangerous thing to do.
Unwilling to bare her soul to him any further, Ivy pushed against him until he was on his back and she was saddled across his hard thighs. She leaned forward to press her lips against his breastbone. Lifting her head, Ivy smiled at the crystal flame that sparked in his eyes. Almost instantly, his erection pressed hard against the apex of her thighs.
“I thought tonight was about surrendering to temptation?” she said in a husky voice.
“No,” he rasped. “It was about me teaching you the arts of pleasure.”
“You seem to have forgotten, I’ve read The Golden Lotus.”
She smiled as she shifted her hips and rubbed her sex over the tip of him. The sharp breath he sucked in filled her with satisfaction. He was not the only one who could incite desire. In a leisurely gesture, she circled the tip of his nipple with her finger then lowered her head to bite gently down on his flesh. With another hiss of breath, he quickly grasped her hips, but she held him at bay as she tugged his hands off her body and pushed them down into the fur beneath.
“You’re far too eager, my lord,” she said with a smile as she shifted her body against him once more.
“Christ Jesus,” he choked out as she shifted her body against him once more. “How much of that bloody book did you read?”
“I’m afraid I was incredibly wicked and read the entire volume.” She reached behind her and stroked the sacs at the base of his erection. The dark growl in his chest reverberated beneath her fingers. “Tell me what you want, my lord.”
“You.”
The word was little more than a guttural sound rolling out of his throat. It swept its way through the air to skim across her skin like a hot summer breeze. His erection jumped against her as she positioned her sex against the tip of him then quickly sheathed herself over him. The heat of him pulsed its way into every fiber of her being.
Her hands pressed against his chest as she slowly rocked her body against his. A primal expression darkened his features as his hands gripped her hips and he locked his gaze with hers. Intense and powerful, a dark passion blazed in his eyes. It matched the raw need holding her hostage as her body gripped his as pleasure engulfed her body. With each beat of her heart, desire sped through her veins until a fire consumed her entire body.
Piercing in its intensity, the ferocity of the sensation frightened her, but she couldn’t resist its calling. Their bodies beat out a wild rhythm as they raced toward a fevered pitch of something she couldn’t define. With a sudden jerk, her head fell back as she released a cry of intense pleasure and shattered over him.
Less than a second later, his hips arched upward, and his hoarse cry mixed with hers. Her breathing ragged, Ivy fell forward to rest her forehead on his chest. Like her, Simon’s breathing was harsh and fast. As the sharp edge of desire eased to a warm, pleasure throb in her veins, she released a sigh.
Slowly, Simon rolled her off him then rose up slightly to stare down into her face. Something indefinable darkened his eyes, and the intensity of his look made her heart race. A large hand cupped the side of her face, and he kissed her. Without saying a word, he simply pulled her tight against him. Uncertain what to make of his behavior, Ivy closed her mind to everything but the pleasure warming her body. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Chapter 11
Outside, snow was falling lightly. From her seat at the fireplace, she could see the large flakes sticking against the windowpanes before sliding downward as they melted. With Christmas less than two weeks away, the snowfall only added to the beauty of the season.
For the first time in years, she was excited about Christmas. She knew Simon wouldn’t be with her for the entire holiday, but he’d already mentioned coming for supper on Christmas night. Over the past few weeks, they’d been almost inseparable during the nights. They’d been glorious moments, each one more exquisite than the last. Her days at the library, once so short now dragged on interminably until she was in Simon’s arms. She was certain their relationship would end eventually, but for now, she was content to enjoy the pleasure of his caresses.
Simon’s attentions seemed far from waning, but they never discussed the future. Even if they had, she would reject the idea of a permanent relationship. As a peer of the realm, Simon lived in a world completely different from hers. It would always be a chasm they could never bridge. A tiny objection whispered through her head, but she crushed the protest.
The bell at the front door rang and Ivy jumped. A small smile twitched at her lips. Ever since Simon had caught her reading The Golden Lotus, she still experienced guilt no matter what she was reading at the time. Laying her book on the side table, Ivy rose to her feet as Simon entered the room. The unexpected visit widened her smile.
“I hope whatever you were reading was educational and completely sinful.” Simon grinned as he crossed the room.
“Now how do you know I’ve been reading?” she asked as he pulled her into his arms.
“Because you’re wearing the same guilty expression you did the day I caught you reading The Golden Lotus.” A strong knuckle lifted her chin so he could capture her lips with his.
A wave of heat cascaded over Ivy as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body into his. Eagerly, she laced her tongue over his mouth. The dark growl rumbling past Simon’s lips sent a tremor through her as he probed the inside of her mouth. Their tongues mated with each other in a familiar dance that somehow continued to remain new and exciting each time they kissed.
Sharp and sudden, the need to feel his skin against hers made her reach for his tie. The silk easily came undone from its knot, and in seconds, her fingers were reaching for the buttons on his shirt. The tangy male scent of him filled her nostrils as she slid her lips along the side of his jaw then down his throat to where his shirt splayed open. Playfully, she slid her hand over his groin, noting the way his erection jumped then grew long and hard beneath her fingers.
With her lips pressed to his chest, the low rumble echoing out of him was a certain sign she was pleasing him. She wanted him. Waiting until tonight would be interminable. All they had to do was lock the salon door. No one would disturb them, and the fire would keep them warm enough afterward.
“Simon, I want you,” she murmured against his throat. Her fingers undid one of his trouser buttons and reached inside to caress him through his underclothing. “I want to please you just as I did that night in the hothouse.”
The groan he released was dark with frustration. His hands grasped hers as he gently pushed her away from him. In three quick strides, he’d put several feet of space between them. The bulge in his trousers clearly indicated his state of arousal, and Ivy stared at him in puzzlement. Even his hands were unsteady as he hastily repaired his appearance. Passion darkened his expression as he thrust his hand throug
h his dark, wavy hair.
“Damnation, I can’t think straight when I get close to you.”
The statement and his expression made her heart skip a beat. What did he mean? Was he coming to care for her? A tremor sailed through her. No, that wasn’t possible. They both knew their place. Enjoying the pleasure of each other’s company was one thing, but she had no wish to change things between them. He couldn’t care for her. It wouldn’t do. Uncertain as to how to respond to his words, she pressed a hand to her stomach.
“I’m flattered, but I can hardly believe you’re so easily disconcerted by me.”
“You underestimate yourself, Ivy.” He returned to her side, his hand capturing her chin. “I find you most distracting. So much so that I finally gave way and agreed to my sister’s demand that you attend our family gathering this evening.”
Turning away from her, he shoved a hand through his hair again. The action left his dark locks tousled, enhancing the air of danger that always surrounded him. At first, she didn’t comprehend his words. He’d mentioned her and a family gathering all in the same breath.
Amazement slowly gave way to something more painful as his words echoed over and over again in her head. Given way to his sister’s demands—that was precisely what he’d said. It had been his sister who’d asked for her to come this evening. Simon hadn’t proposed the invitation. He’d merely succumbed to pressure from his sister. Inhaling a sharp breath, she stiffened.
Deep down, she’d always know Simon would never bring a commoner into his house. It was one thing to dally with the lower class, but for one to associate with his family was a different matter altogether. Still the thought was a knife slicing into her heart. She bit back a gasp as the razor edged its way along her nerve endings. He’d made it clear from their first meeting how he felt about commoners marrying up the social ladder.
Well, she had no desire to marry a peer, least of all Simon. She tightened her mouth at the mocking laughter echoing in the back of her head. She didn’t want to marry anyone. She was quite happy with her life right now. The first time she’d ever even considered taking a lover was the day Simon had entered her life. But now that she’d made that choice, she recognized the freedom such a relationship offered her.
There had never been any expectations spoken between them that would lead either one of them to consider their arrangement permanent, but declaring her unfit to meet his family rankled. She had blue blood running in her veins as well. It might not be pure as his, but it was there all the same.
“Thank you for the invitation, my lord, but I’ve already made plans for the evening.”
“What the hell does that mean?” he snapped.
“It means just what I said. I’m otherwise occupied this evening.” She straightened her shoulders and tipped her head at a dignified angle. “If you expected me to be enamored by your social status, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“My social—” He glared at her. “This isn’t about my perspective on class, Ivy. It’s yours.”
“Mine,” she snapped furiously. “Don’t you dare try to cover up your prejudice by suggesting the fault lies with me.”
“Damn it, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” He strode across the carpet to grasp her by the arms and give her a slight shake. “I know how you feel about the social circles I come from. I know how uncomfortable you are when you’re surrounded by the nobility, and I didn’t want to feed you to the lions if I could help it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She tried to tug free of his hold, but failed. “You don’t know me that well. We’re lovers, and beyond that you know very little about me.”
“Oh, I know you, Ivy. I know you almost as well as you know yourself. I don’t fully understand why, but you despise the aristocracy. I’ve seen it in your eyes every time you’ve interacted with the nobility, even the patrons at the library. Your back becomes straight and rigid the moment a peer of the realm speaks to you. Even with me, you sometimes have a distant air, and all because of my social rank. It’s there in that polite, serene mask you wear whenever you’re conversing with one of us.”
The stark words made her freeze in his grasp. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t possibly act that way. How could she? It would make her no better than—the harsh reality of his observation shamed her. She was no better than any peer who’d snubbed her.
Even worse, she suddenly realized how much like her aunt and uncle she had become. The only difference was the situation was reversed. Horrified by the realization, she flinched and tugged free of his hold.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize…”
“Tell me why you despise us, the peerage, so much.” The gentle note in his voice only increased the shame flooding through her.
“I can’t….please don’t ask it of me,” she said with a shake of her head. At her response, he pulled into his embrace then lifted her chin so she was staring into his piercing gaze.
“As you wish, but understand this, Ivy. I won’t let you use our social standings as a way to keep me at a distance,” he bit out. “I want you more than any woman I’ve ever known, and I’m not about to give you up in the foreseeable future.”
The possessive note in Simon’s voice alarmed and thrilled her. They were the words of a man determined to have his own way and damn anyone who tried to stop him. Still reeling with the knowledge of how much like her aunt and uncle she’d become, Ivy swallowed hard. How could she protect her heart now when he’d diminished the gap between them with his invitation and his observation? Her eyes met his silver gaze.
“I have no desire to distance myself from you,” she whispered.
“Then say you’ll come to supper this evening. Once Abigail’s curiosity about you has been satisfied, she’ll leave us alone to do as we please.” A wicked smile curled his beautiful mouth. “Although, I won’t be a bit surprised if she takes to you as easily as her son and brother.”
Heat filled her cheeks at the compliment as she remembered the first time they’d met and his initial opinion of her. He’d changed since then. But had she? Slowly she accepted his invitation with a nod of her head. A pleased expression settled on his face and he grinned at her. He looked almost like a boy in a candy shop.
Ivy nibbled at her lip. Meeting Simon’s sister was the last thing she wanted. She couldn’t imagine a more uncomfortable evening. Her gaze swept across the contented look on his face. She was certain it was insanity to do as he asked, but she wanted to make him happy. If attending this small supper party achieved that, then nothing else mattered.
Chapter 12
Ivy stepped out of the carriage and stood on the sidewalk staring up at the façade of Lady Claiborne’s home. Why had she agreed to come this evening? She wanted to turn around and climb back into the carriage. Beyond that door was the potential for the same type of humiliation she’d endured growing up.
Avoiding the Marlborough Set was something at which she’d become quite adept. Now, here she was feeling like Daniel about to enter the lion’s den. She was certain Simon’s family would find her sadly lacking just like her aunt and uncle always had. Inhaling a deep breath, her fingers gripped her purse more tightly. She was no longer a child. If she found the evening too unbearable, she was capable of leaving.
Her fingers turned the handle of the doorbell, and the moment the bell jangled on the other side of the door she almost did run back to the carriage. Instead, she squared her shoulders and waited with bated breath for the door to Claiborne House to open. Seconds later a tall, cadaverous-looking butler’s gaze skimmed over her with something akin to disdain. Lifting her chin, she met his gaze steadily.
“I’m Miss Beecham. I believe I’m expected.”
“Of course, miss. Welcome to Claiborne House.” Opening the door wide, the butler invited her inside with a small bow. “Allow me to take your cape.”
Undoing the frog loops of her cloak, Ivy shrugged it off her shoulders and handed it to the servant along with her pur
se. Without her cape, she felt naked, exposed for any member of the Set to ravage her with insolent barbs and asides.
“The family is in the drawing room, miss. If you’ll follow me.”
As the butler moved forward, Ivy hesitated, frozen in place. She didn’t belong here. It wasn’t safe. If she moved quickly, she could grab her things and be gone before the man opened—the double doors of the salon slid apart as the butler announced her arrival in sonorous tones.
Her mouth went dry with fear as she slowly crossed the entry way and stepped into the salon. The first person she saw was Simon. The familiar tilt of his dark head made her heart skip a beat. Heat coursed through her body at the sight of him.
His gaze locked with hers. She recognized the flash of desire in his silvery eyes, but something else tempered his expression. Warm reassurance softened the harsh planes of his features as he silently offered her encouragement. His unspoken approval eased the fluttering in her stomach. At least one person here did not find her lacking. Ivy saw him take a step forward, before Anthony uttered an exclamation of pleasure and crossed the floor to her side.
“Miss Beecham, I’m delighted my uncle was able to convince to you to join us this evening.” Her hand clutched in his, Anthony pulled her toward a woman sitting on a scrolled back sofa talking with a young lady. “Let me introduce you to my mother.”
As they approached, the woman rose to her feet to greet her. Although plain in features, the woman’s brown eyes danced with merriment, and when she smiled, it was clear she was Simon’s sister.
“Mother, allow me to introduce you to Miss Beecham. Miss Beecham, my mother, Lady Claiborne.”
“Miss Beecham, how lovely to finally meet you. Anthony has spoken of you often, as has Simon.” Her hostess clasped her hand in a warm welcome. While curiosity and assessment filled her gaze, there was no hint of condescension in the other woman’s voice or manner. Warm and genuine, the woman’s welcome put some of her fears to rest.
