Everything Forbidden

by Jess Michaels

  “Go,” Norman said, and it was an order, not a request. Ethan shot a glance at the man and wondered what kind of husband he would be to poor Penelope. But that wasn’t his concern at this point.

  Penelope pursed her lips and stepped toward Ethan. When he held out an arm, she stared at it like she expected his touch to burn her, but finally took his offering and let him lead her to the dance floor.

  As they stepped into the first turn of the waltz, Penelope glared up at him. “You horrible man. How dare you approach me and ask me to dance? You know how I despise you!”

  “I am fully aware of that fact, madam,” he whispered, his voice filled with warning. “But if you do not smile and mind your tone, so will the rest of the room. And that will do your family and your sister no good.”

  Penelope’s lips thinned, but she managed to make herself smile and dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. “Leave it to you to make threats. Do not speak of my sister to me. No one wants you here, you should just leave.”

  “No,” he said, clamping his fingers tightly against her waist in case she attempted an escape. “Not until I see her. Where is she?”

  “Who?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m in no mood for your games, Penelope. You know I mean Miranda. Tell me where she is. Now.”

  Penelope’s eyes widened. “She—she isn’t here.”

  Ethan searched her face. “You are lying, my dear. And I don’t like it. Where is she? You can tell me or I can make an enormous scene while I search every inch of this house and find her myself.”

  From the way her face twitched, he could see how furious Penelope was. How much she wanted to claw and slap and scream at him. He had to admire her protectiveness, even in the face of the helpless situation. Although Penelope remained angry at Miranda, she also didn’t want her to be hurt.

  And would Ethan hurt her? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he was driven to see her. To just look at her. Maybe that’s all he would do. There was no use doing more when it could come to no good end.

  “Haven’t you done enough?” Penelope whispered, tears sparkling in her eyes. Blue-green and darker than Miranda’s, with none of her radiant spark.

  “I want to see her,” Ethan admitted. “You hate me and you hate what you saw between us, I know that. I even understand it. But you don’t understand. The fact that you are marrying George Norman proves that. I need to see her.”

  Penelope was quiet and Ethan could almost see all the scenarios playing out in her mind. Finally, she clenched her teeth in frustration, but he could see he had won the battle with her.

  “I saw Miranda go out onto the terrace a little while ago and she has not returned,” she admitted. “But, please, just leave her be. You’ve done enough damage to us all.”

  Ethan stared down at Penelope. There was something in her tone, her face, that made him wonder.

  “Are you marrying Norman to protect your family or to punish Miranda? Or perhaps punish yourself for being intrigued by what you saw in that parlor?”

  All the color drained from Penelope’s face and for a brief moment the wall she had erected around herself fell. In her eyes, Ethan saw her fear, her uncertainty, her regrets over her choices. But then the music ended and she backed from his arms.

  “None of that is any of your business, my lord, no matter what you shared with my sister in the past. You and I have no bond and we never will. Now, please, I beg of you, leave Miranda alone.”

  Then she gave a dismissive curtsey for the benefit of her watching fiancé and hurried away.

  Ethan didn’t pause to ponder what Penelope had said. He could only imagine how heartbroken Miranda was over her sister’s choice of a mate, and perhaps in the future he could assist on that matter. But for now, he just needed to find Miranda. Find her and…

  And he didn’t know what.

  He made for the terrace doors like the rest of the world didn’t exist. If people called his name, he was unaware. If he pushed through groups, he didn’t feel their bodies shifting around him or hear their protests. All he could think about was Miranda and that, in a moment, he would open the terrace door and see her.

  He pushed the door open and stepped outside. The air was cool from the day’s earlier rainfall, a shocking change from the humid heat of the crowded ballroom. He looked around and for a moment saw no one on the terrace. His heart jumped to his throat.

  Had Penelope lied to him? Was she now squiring Miranda away or laughing at his folly since she wasn’t even in attendance? He stifled a curse and turned to go back inside when a little movement in the shadows on the other side of the terrace caught his eye.

  Ethan started across the cobblestone walkway, squinting to see into the shadows. There was a person hiding in the corner. He was certain of it.

  “Who’s there?” he called out.

  There was no answer, but a shuffling of fabric. He continued forward and was only a few steps away when a wavering voice called out to him.

  “Ethan, stop.”

  He froze as a woman stepped out into the dim light from the ballroom’s frosted windows. The one woman he had been obsessed with for weeks.

  Miranda.

  And he realized, in one horrible, wonderful moment, that the impossible was true.

  He was totally, utterly and desperately in love with her.

  Nineteen

  Miranda watched as Ethan came to a stock-still stop in the middle of the terrace and simply stared at her. His lips were parted just slightly and he was pale, almost like he was surprised that she was here, but that couldn’t be. She was certain, after watching him interact with her sister, that he had come out of the house with the express intention of finding her.

  God, he was handsome, dressed impeccably in his dark party clothes. So different from the last time she’d seen him, spread out naked on the lawn in front of the lake, hair tousled by her fingers. It had been so hard to leave him that day.

  She swallowed hard at the memory and blinked back tears. Why did he have to pursue her? How could he be so damned cruel?

  “Ethan,” she breathed.

  Her voice seemed to wake him from his fog. Wordlessly, he crossed the remaining distance between them. Before she could react or draw away, he caught her in his arms and brought his mouth down.

  She wanted to fight, but the heat of his breath as his tongue breached her lips was too arousing and tempting. She didn’t resist, even as he backed her away from the windows and further into the shadows where she had been hiding.

  He tilted her head gently and devoured her mouth, harsh and hard like a man starved. She tasted a hint of the sweetness from the thin punch, but a background bite of something stronger. Whiskey, maybe from earlier in the evening. And something else. Something desperate.

  Desperate like she was as he bucked his hips against her and awoke all the needs she’d been trying to suppress since he left the countryside. She knew exactly where those desperate needs would lead her.

  “No,” she murmured against his mouth between moans. “No, Ethan, please.”

  She pushed against his chest and he backed away with a feral growl of displeasure. But when he looked at her, she didn’t see censure or anger there. Just frustration and…and something else she didn’t recognize.

  “I’m sorry,” he panted.

  She covered her hot cheeks with her gloved fingers and paced out of the shadows, back into the dim light. At least there she felt like there was some protection.

  “Ethan, go back inside. Forget I’m here. Forget me,” she whispered.

  He remained half in the shadows and the darkness made his expression unreadable. “Did you know I was here?”

  She worried her lip and tasted him there. Yet another reminder, as if she needed one more to add to the growing pile. “Yes. I saw you when we arrived a little less than an hour ago.”

  Even with little light, she saw him frown.

  “And you came outside to hide from me?”

  She drew in a shak
ing breath. “Yes. I didn’t want to see you. I didn’t want—” She waved her hand toward the shadowy place where he had reminded her of everything she could never have.

  He took a step forward, casting light over his features. He looked tired, his eyes were a bit hollow. He certainly didn’t look like a man who’d had any fun lately. Yet, she wasn’t sure what he felt aside from the desire that had been evident in his kiss.

  “Why?”

  “Because it hurts too much to see you,” she admitted, hating how her voice cracked. Hating that he’d forced her to confess her feelings yet again. “I’m going back inside.”

  She turned to do just that, but he sprang forward and caught her arm, holding her in place.

  “Wait, just wait, Miranda,” he said.

  Her wrap had slipped down when he kissed her, so his warm fingers caressed her bare skin. Miranda shut her eyes, willing her body not to react and failing miserably. Her frayed nerves recalled instantly what his touch could do. By memory, her body began to warm, her nipples tightened, wet heat readied her for a joining she longed for more than anything, but couldn’t allow.

  With difficulty, she tugged from his grip and looked up at him. “What do you want, Ethan? We said all we had to say back at home, didn’t we?”

  “No. I thought we had, but we hadn’t,” he said. His fingers stirred, like he wanted to touch her, but he didn’t. She wasn’t certain whether to be glad or sorry.

  “Then what more is there?” she asked on a frustrated sigh.

  “Only one thing, Miranda. The most important thing.” He caught his breath. “I’m in love with you.”

  Ethan hadn’t really meant to make that declaration. He had only just determined it himself. He certainly hadn’t intended to say it on a terrace as part of a bid to keep Miranda by his side. But desperation had driven him and now the truth was out.

  Miranda stared at him, eyes wide and filled with shining tears. She opened her mouth and shut it a few times, as if trying to find something to say in return.

  “You love me?” she finally whispered in pure disbelief, but before he could repeat the words, she shook her head. “No. That isn’t fair, Ethan.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Fair?”

  “You cannot say what I so desperately want to hear in some attempt to make me come to your bed again!” Irritation laced her tone, just held under the surface.

  “That isn’t what I’m doing.”

  He fisted his hands in frustration. He’d never even thought of saying such a thing to another woman, and here Miranda was, denying that he meant it. And he did mean it. The more he thought of it, the more he mulled over it, the more he realized how true it was.

  She stepped up to him, nostrils flaring delicately. He ached as he looked at her, all passionate anger and repressed desire.

  “You told me, very plainly, that as much as you want to care for me, you do not. I don’t know why four weeks away from me would change that. This is just a game to you. I’m a mere conquest. And I can’t be, Ethan! It’s too cruel.” She fisted a hand against her chest. “My heart isn’t like yours. I can’t shut away my emotions. I tried and it didn’t work.”

  He’d been purposefully not touching her in an attempt to respect her space, but this was too much. He caught her arms and hauled her closer. Close enough that his breath stirred the curls around her face.

  “I am not toying with you, you are not my conquest and the only one being cruel at this moment is you,” he whispered, his voice harsh as it echoed in the quiet night air around them. “I love you.”

  A little sob broke from her throat and tears began to come down her cheeks. “Ethan…” she whispered, a little broken plea.

  He loosened his grip until it was a caress, not a punishment. “I know why it is hard for you to believe after everything I said to you before I left, it’s hard for me to believe. But when I returned to London, nothing was the same. My entire life was wrong. I tried to go back to my old ways, but they had no appeal anymore. I even went to other women—”

  She flinched, pulling back. “I don’t want to hear this.”

  “Listen to me!” he cried, giving her a tiny shake. Her eyes widened and she stopped talking, stopped struggling. “I didn’t want anyone else. I haven’t been with another woman since I made love to you by the lake the afternoon before I left.”

  She gasped, head tilting as she tried to read the truth in his eyes. “What?”

  “I know.” He nodded. “Since my first experience, I have never gone more than a few days without sex. But whenever I tried to be with someone else, all I could think of was you. And the only thing close to relief I’ve had since the last time I saw you are my dreams.” He leaned in closer and dragged in a breath of her scent. “And my dreams are nothing to the reality of touching you, Miranda. They are most unfulfilling.”

  She shivered and he felt her pulse quicken beneath his hands. But despite her physical reaction, she still tugged away and stumbled a few steps back.

  “So you want me. Perhaps more than anyone else at this moment,” she whispered, voice breaking. “But that isn’t love.”

  “Wanting you is only part of what I miss,” he said. “When I saw you, do you know what I wanted to do?”

  She gave him an incredulous expression. He shook his head.

  “No, not that.” He hesitated and couldn’t help a sheepish smile. “Well, yes that. But more than anything, I just wanted to hold you. To feel you in my arms. I wanted to kiss you. I had been trying to ignore how much I missed you, but it washed over me in this wave and all I could think about was saying your name. Talking to you. I’ve thought about you every moment since we’ve been apart. Your body, yes. But you, Miranda. You.”

  A tear trailed down her cheek and Ethan stepped forward and took the chance of wiping it away with his thumb. Her eyes fluttered shut and she turned her face into his palm and stood that way for a long, silent moment.

  Then her eyes opened.

  “I so want to believe you, Ethan. But I can’t.” She backed toward the terrace door. “I’m sorry. I just can’t take that risk.”

  She dipped her head away and slipped back inside.

  Ethan stood, staring at the terrace door as it shut behind her. His heart felt like it was being ripped in two. She couldn’t believe him. He’d poured out everything he was, and she didn’t believe him.

  He paced to the terrace wall and looked down at the barren gardens below. He felt as empty as they were in the cold fall breeze.

  He had avoided love all his life. He hadn’t wanted it in any relationship. But when it came to Miranda, he hadn’t been able to dodge it. This pain that was mushrooming inside him, making every muscle ache, was worse than death. Worse than anything he’d ever felt.

  He had risked everything…

  His head came up. That was the word she’d used, wasn’t it? “Risk.”

  Had he risked everything?

  Miranda had. She had come to his home, knowing she had so much to lose. She’d taken his devil’s bargain, surrendering her innocence and leaving her future in his hands. She had endured his desires and what he knew was sometimes his cruelty, never knowing if he would send her away.

  And in the end, she had declared her love for him when she knew he wouldn’t be able to say the same. When he gave her a glimpse at a rocky, unfulfilling future, she hadn’t taken it when it could have been so easy for her. She had been brave enough to wish for more, brave enough to be unwilling to settle for less.

  That was risk.

  “Do you want to lose her?” he murmured, listening to the words in his own voice. “Would you risk everything to win her?”

  And before he finished the question, he knew the answer.

  “What do you mean you want to return home?” Miranda’s mother gave a sulky frown.

  Miranda swallowed hard, fighting the tears that were already stinging her eyes and blocking her throat. “I—I have a sudden headache,” she lied.

  Her mother sho
ok her head. “We must stay to make a good impression for your sister. I am certain, if we ask him, that Lord Norman would allow you to rest in one of his parlors for a short time, or—”

  “Please, Mama,” Miranda interrupted, her voice sharper than she had intended. “I cannot stay here.”

  Her mother stared at her in surprise and Miranda fisted her hands at her sides. Even if her mother said no, she was seriously considering running. She couldn’t stay, not after what had just occurred.

  It had taken Miranda every day of the past month to understand her life again. To grasp that she had given away her innocence and her heart, lost her sister, lost herself. And just when she was coming to terms with all those things, everything changed when Ethan walked back into her life like they hadn’t said their final goodbyes all those weeks ago.

  His claims that he loved her cut her deeper than any knife. Oh, how she wanted to believe that. How it broke her heart not to believe. But how could she? She’d been a game to him in the past and this could simply be his next move.

  “Very well, Miranda,” her mother said quietly. “I—I will send for the carriage to take you home if you are so unwell. You do look pale, and we wouldn’t want you fainting away, after all.”

  Miranda drew back. Over the years, she’d grown accustomed to her mother’s shrill arguments over almost every subject. What a fright she must look if Dorthea simply acquiesced to her wishes.

  “Thank you,” she said as relief flooded her. And a touch of disappointment that she tried to push down where she wouldn’t feel it. Leaving meant closing the door on Ethan once again.

  Her mother held out an arm and Miranda clasped it. She hadn’t even realized she was trembling until she touched someone who wasn’t. Slowly, they began to make their way across the room toward Lord Norman and Penelope so she could make her excuses and say her goodbyes.

  “Miranda Albright!”

  Miranda froze at the bellowing voice that rose over the buzz of the party and the tinkle of the orchestra.