Everything Forbidden

by Jess Michaels

  He paced to the fire and stared into the dying flames. Tonight, something had changed between them. Oh, he had succeeded in reclaiming his power over her. He had dominated Miranda, taken her, made her beg even. But then something had shifted.

  Afterward, when he normally itched for escape, he had actually enjoyed lying beside her, sharing food and conversation. Thanks to that, he understood so much more about her family. And he hadn’t garnered that information just as a weapon in this erotic war, either. He just wanted to know her, beyond her body.

  That realization should have horrified him, but instead he felt a…peace about it. He liked Miranda, as much as he lusted after her. And why not? She was…interesting.

  So long as he recognized the pitfalls to getting too close to her, there was no reason why he couldn’t enjoy their affair on every level. And when it was over, he would let go. He was certain of that.

  Except, when he turned back to look at her, all that certainty faded, leaving him with only lust and something more troubling that he couldn’t define.

  Eleven

  Ethan caught Miranda’s hand and pulled her back into the bed. She laughed as she hit the mattress and the sound pierced into his very soul. It was an uncommon sound, and after hearing more about her life, he understood why. Still, when Miranda laughed or smiled, he couldn’t help but do the same. He liked to see her playful side as much as her passionate side.

  Well, almost as much. Rolling, he covered her body and kissed her. Her laughter was smothered and the giggles turned to moans.

  She allowed him his pleasure for a few, too short, moments, then he felt her pushing against his chest.

  “No, no,” she protested between groans as he suckled her neck and nipped her earlobe. “My mother expected me home a quarter of an hour ago as it is. If I am too late, she might send someone with the carriage to find me. If they discover I’m not affiliated with Lady Inglewood, all will be lost.”

  He rolled away with a noisy sigh. “Very well.”

  She struggled to her feet and returned to buttoning the dress she’d retrieved from her small portmanteau. Another worn gown that wasn’t anything like what she deserved to wear. Ethan briefly imagined her in a shocking red satin with a plunging neckline and high waist. Something he could easily tug and reveal her…

  “Ethan, are you listening?” she asked with a laugh.

  He shook off the fantasy, though the raging erection that now tented the sheets wouldn’t be erased so quickly. “What is it?”

  “I was saying that I shall see you in a few days at my mother’s gathering.”

  He nodded absently as he watched her put her hair up. Her neck fascinated him. Her hair fascinated him. She fascinated him and he wished she didn’t have to go.

  The realization jolted him and he pushed it away with a scowl. It was just lust, of course. Nothing more than lust. Soon it would fade.

  Wouldn’t it?

  Yes, yes. Of course it would. It had always faded before.

  “Goodbye,” she said as she moved toward the door.

  He flew out of the bed before she could leave and caught her arm. Spinning her around, he pushed her back against the wall and crushed her mouth with a kiss that left little doubt that he wanted her. She melted, hips arching against his naked ones, hands clenching at his bare back. Just as the desire became too much, he set her aside with a wicked smile.

  “I will see you at the party.”

  She nodded, dazed, and staggered out. As soon as she was gone, Ethan rested his head against the door with a curse. He should have been pleased that he could so easily control her desire. Control her.

  And yet, he felt no triumph at conquering her. She might not have known it, but he had been conquered as well. When she spiraled out of control, he had, too. When she begged for his cock, it felt more like redemption than conquest.

  And now he was standing by the door like a fool, wondering how he would survive the time before he next saw her.

  Well, he knew one thing that would help him pass the time. With a grin, he grabbed for his dressing gown and headed into the hallway to find Winston. He had a plan for Miranda and if he wanted to be ready by the day of the party, he would need to move quickly.

  “Do you know how much money Mother is spending on this party?” Penelope asked as she followed Miranda into her bedchamber and shut the door behind her.

  Miranda sighed. She’d been home from Ethan’s for all of ten minutes and already her Mother had created new problems.

  She sat at her dressing table and began to take down her hair. She blushed at her reflection, remembering the last time she saw herself with blonde hair tangled around her shoulders. Ethan had been behind her, driving into her clenching body and forcing her toward powerful, overwhelming pleasure. Even now, her body gave a little quiver just from the memory.

  “Miranda?” Penelope said, stepping into the mirror’s reflection.

  Miranda shook away the image. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be distracted.”

  Her sister examined her face. “You look tired.”

  Hot blood rushed to Miranda’s cheeks. If she looked tired, it was because she’d spent the night beneath Ethan’s sweat-slicked body, writhing in pleasure as he took her over and over again.

  “Miranda?” Penelope’s voice was sharp enough to shock her from her pleasant memories.

  “I, er—I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Does Lady Inglewood put you in some horrid servants’ chamber?” her sister asked with a frown. “I wish you didn’t have to sacrifice a day a week just to get into the dragon’s good graces.”

  Guilt stabbed Miranda. Damn these lies that seemed to multiply every time her sister spoke to her.

  She chose her response carefully. “You needn’t be upset. I don’t mind what I’m doing, really.”

  “How can you not mind?” Penelope sighed. “You’re forced to sacrifice your time, your company, even your very body for us when I’m sure you’d rather be doing a hundred other things.”

  Miranda gave a small smile. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” Then she shook off her soft emotions. “At any rate, if it helps our family in the long run, I can put up with a great deal. Now, let’s not talk about my activities. Are you ready for the ball?”

  Penelope pulled a face. “I suppose. I’ve been pinned and fitted and lectured and tested until I think I might lose my mind. But Mama seems satisfied that I won’t disgrace the family completely.” She sank into a worn chair beside the window with a frown. “So much rides on my success.”

  With a start, Miranda realized that while she had been so caught up in Ethan, her sister had been having her own difficulties. Now that she was focused on Penelope, she noticed how pale her sister was. And if her own face was tired, Penelope seemed to be teetering on the edge of exhaustion. She was pale and dark circles marred the skin beneath her pretty eyes.

  How could she have been so selfish as to miss all the signs?

  Miranda pushed to her feet and came to stand beside her sister. She placed a hand on Penelope’s shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t pressure yourself so much. You needn’t find a husband right away. And if you don’t like anyone who approaches you, for heaven’s sake, don’t go accepting any proposals and sacrifice yourself on the alter of our family problems.”

  “But if my Season fails—” Penelope began.

  Miranda shook her head. “Then you will have another. And Beatrice will have one. And Winifred will have one.”

  Her sister flinched. “I know we cannot afford that kind of expense! Mother has already spent through the amount Lord Rothschild put into our accounts.”

  Miranda stepped back in shock. “What?”

  Penelope’s gaze came up to hers. “I tried to tell you when I came in. Mother has all but thrown the money away. She’s gone positively wild buying new gowns and preparing the house for our guests.” She shook her head. “And since we don’t know how far Lord Rothschild’s kindness wil
l stretch, this might be our only chance for me to find a husband.”

  Miranda covered her eyes. Poor Ethan had no idea what he’d gotten into when he vowed to pay for her sister’s Season. Surely he would be horrified when he realized his generous first payment toward her introduction to Society was already gone. Miranda could only hope he wouldn’t back out on the deal.

  Although, after last night, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so. Still, could her body really be worth so much to him? Especially since he could and would easily find another woman for his amusements. One who wouldn’t be such a drag on his purse.

  The very thought pained her.

  She pushed the feelings aside. She could do nothing about that situation now. She would simply have to discuss the finances with him later. Perhaps at the party.

  “I will speak to Mama,” Miranda said on a sigh. “Though I don’t know how much good it will do. She refuses to be reined in. In fact, my admonishments only seem to drive her on to more outrageous expenditures.”

  “I know. I tried, as well.” Penelope threw up her hands in frustration. “Why does she do this?”

  Miranda paced to the window and looked down below over the grounds. “Perhaps it is her way to keeping hold of Father’s memory. He kept her in a fine fashion. If she faces the reality of how he lived, it will destroy her image of him. It will force her to admit that Papa wasn’t the sun and moon. He was only human, and a flawed one at that.”

  Penelope shook her head. “I would think the truth would be more important to her than the false image of a dead man. I loved Papa, too, but I recognize his failings.”

  Miranda looked at her sister over her shoulder. She had always seen Penelope as her equal, despite the two years separating them, but at that moment, her sister seemed very young. Innocent.

  “The love between a man and woman is different than the love between a father and daughter,” she said softly. “Sometimes we see what we want to see.”

  Penelope shook her head with an incredulous laugh. “As if you know anything about love.”

  Miranda flinched. No, she’d never been in love. She felt something for Ethan, though. Something powerful and seductive that went far beyond the mere pleasure she received from his touch. Something that made her want to forget that he was playing a wicked game with her. That he was simply enjoying utterly debauching an innocent and that he would discard her as soon as he bored of the challenge.

  “You’re right,” she said, forcing a brightness to her tone that she didn’t feel. “I know nothing about love. I certainly shouldn’t claim to understand Mama’s motives. But I doubt anything I say will keep her from doing whatever she wishes. So we’ll just hope that there is a wonderfully handsome, fabulously rich, perfectly kind gentleman who arrives at the party and is so charmed by you that he cannot stop himself from offering for your hand before the clock strikes midnight.”

  Penelope laughed as she got up from the chair and moved to the chamber door. “You sound like you’re telling me a fairy tale. We both know that there are no happily ever after endings. I’ll leave you to refresh yourself before luncheon. You’ll need the rest to endure Mama’s endless chatter about the food for the ball. I’ll see you in a while.”

  Miranda nodded after her sister, but when the door closed behind her, she faced the lawn outside again. No happily ever after endings.

  The reasonable part of her knew that was true. She’d witnessed the muck their father had made of their lives. When she realized the double life he’d been perpetrating, it had crushed any illusions she had about knights in shining armor and love that trumped all vices.

  But in the past few weeks she’d begun to hope, in some secret part of her mind, that there was still a little bit of a fairy tale left for someone. Her sister’s words reminded her not to count on wishes and princes.

  Especially princes who made scandalous offers and overpowering demands that left her body aching and her heart longing for things she could never have.

  “Ethan, it’s so nice to see you.”

  Ethan got to his feet as Cassandra Willows entered her parlor. She held out her hands and kissed each cheek before she stepped back to look at him from head to toe. Her gaze was utterly familiar. After all, she had seen him wearing far less.

  She smiled. “You always do cut a fine figure. But tell your tailor to put you in more blue. It’s always suited you most.”

  She motioned to the seat he had vacated upon her entry and took her own place on the settee across from him.

  Ethan laughed as he settled back into the chair “I will tell my tailor that the finest seamstress in all the country has that advice,” he reassured her.

  He looked at Cassandra. Not long ago, he would have been trying to find a way to get her out of that lovely fitted frock she was wearing. But though he enjoyed the view of the swell of her breasts enormously, he was surprised to find he had no interest in seeing anything more.

  Not that she wasn’t beautiful. Cassandra’s dark auburn hair, petite frame and heavy, round breasts were still perfection. And he could tell by the way she smiled at him that she wouldn’t be opposed to sharing a free afternoon of pleasure.

  He just…didn’t want to.

  “Did you receive my note?” he asked, clearing his throat in the hopes that his discomfort would go away.

  She nodded. “Yes. And I have done my best to make what you asked for as quickly as I could. It’s difficult to design a piece for a woman who I don’t know and cannot measure.”

  He frowned. “Whatever you made for her, it cannot be worse than what she is wearing now, I assure you.”

  “Hmmm, that bad, eh?”

  “Wretched,” he admitted as he thought of Miranda’s worn clothing. “And what about the, er, other item?”

  Cassandra smiled. In addition to creating beautiful gowns for ladies and courtesans alike, she had a thriving side business with toys and trinkets of a sensual nature. One that catered to a very select clientele.

  “That is ready, as well.” She got to her feet and crossed the room to ring a bell beside the door. As she waited for her assistant, she turned to examine his face closely. “Since I received your summons yesterday, I have been nearly overcome with curiosity about who these gifts are for. I heard you didn’t take a lover with you to the estate this year.”

  Ethan shrugged. He’d promised Miranda not to reveal her identity and he didn’t intend to do so. “Rumors are a tricky beast, are they not?”

  She smiled. “I told Richardson that he was wrong!”

  Ethan didn’t answer one way or another, and before she demanded more information, Cassandra’s servant arrived with a box. She took the gift and nodded the girl away.

  She turned back and held out the present with a smile. “Here.”

  Ethan took it with a bit more interest than he wanted and opened the gift. He smiled at what he saw. “Perfect, thank you Cassandra.”

  “You are very welcome. I’m glad I could oblige. Especially for the exorbitant fee you’re going to pay me.” They both laughed. “You must be bored with the young lady already, though. Are these things a goodbye gift?”

  Ethan frowned. “No.”

  Cassandra pulled back and surprise was plain on her face. “Really? I don’t think I’ve ever known you to buy a gift for a woman when it wasn’t a consolation for your parting. Tell me more about the lady who has inspired such generosity, my lord.”

  Ethan pulled the box shut and held it closer to his chest. “There is nothing to tell.”

  Now Cassandra’s eyes went impossibly wide. “Are you in love with this girl, Rothschild?”

  He nearly dropped the box in shock. “What?”

  “There is something in your look. Tell me you have not finally succumbed to the charms of a lady.”

  He scowled as he marched to the door. “Of course not. What kind of fool do you take me for? Your payment will arrive by day’s end.”

  Cassandra folded her arms as she watched him yank the
door open. “Very well, Ethan,” she said softly. “I think I understand perfectly.”

  “Understand!” he scoffed. “There is nothing to understand. Good afternoon.”

  But as he strode out of Cassandra’s comfortable house and climbed up on his horse to ride back to his estate, he wondered that Cassandra would even guess such a foolhardy thing. Normally, she was so observant. Surely he wasn’t showing that kind of ridiculous emotion on his countenance.

  The kind of emotion that would not end well for anyone concerned.

  Twelve

  Ethan paced around his parlor, checking the clock every time he made a turn about the room. Almost time.

  He shook his head at his own eagerness, but had given up trying to quell it. Soon he would be with Miranda and he could think of nothing else.

  It had been two days since he last saw her. Two long days where he had been distracted by thoughts of her. Her scent still lingered on the pillows in his secret chamber. How did he know that?

  Because he kept returning to the room to breathe her in.

  But all the waiting was nearly over because she’d be arriving at his home in a few moments. Even though it wasn’t Friday, even though she wouldn’t be staying. But he had plans for her.

  He shouldn’t. He knew that. If he was smart, he’d stick to the terms of their deal. But he couldn’t. He wanted her too much. More than he could remember wanting any woman, even his favorite mistresses. No one had ever stoked the fire in his belly like Miranda could with just one unpracticed look.

  Cassandra thought he was in love with her. But that wasn’t it. Since he left his old friend’s home yesterday, he’d all but convinced himself that Cassandra was seeing things that weren’t there. Foolish, romantic woman.

  The door to the parlor opened and Winston stepped inside. “Miss Albright, sir.”

  Ethan’s pulse leapt and he made a concerted effort to keep his face calm as the servant stepped aside and made way for Miranda. She stepped into the room with a brief nod for the man, but as the door closed, her gaze fell on Ethan and she smiled.