LadyClarissasSeduction

by Scott, Scarlett

  “Do you like what I do to you, princess?”

  “I love it.”

  His pace increased again, his cock thrusting in and out of her. “Tell me what you like.”

  She could hear the sounds of her own wetness and it made her want to come again. “I like your cock inside me.”

  “Hell, princess.” He surged inside her, rotating his hips as he came and bringing her once more to climax.

  As one, they collapsed to the bed, breathless. A sheen of sweat coated their naked bodies in the low light. Clarissa had never loved him more.

  Chapter Four

  When she woke the next morning, Pierce was gone. From the sounds emanating from the streets below, many of The Painted Lady’s patrons were just ending their evenings of debauchery. Loud, drunken voices echoed.

  Clarissa rose and slipped on a dressing gown neatly placed at the foot of the bed for her. As she crossed the room to the window, a thump caught her attention. A journal lay open on the floor. She must have somehow knocked it from the nearby writing desk.

  One name on the open page caught her attention. Darlington.

  * * * * *

  She strode into Pierce’s study without bothering for Henderson to announce her. Pierce was seated behind a large desk, poring over what appeared to be a ledger, pen in hand. He glanced up from his work as she bustled into the room. A smile kicked up the corner of his mouth as he rose and offered her a bow.

  “Good morning, C. I trust you slept well?”

  She flushed at the subtly couched reference to their evening together. It had been frantic, passionate. Intense. But she would not let him sway her with charm or seduction. Her decision had been reached and she knew well what must be done.

  “I want to go home,” she informed him in her iciest voice.

  His features hardening, he dropped his pen to the desk. “What is this nonsense?”

  “Do you think revenge is nonsense, Mr. Foster?”

  “Princess, don’t—”

  “Do not call me that.” There was more stone in her voice than even she recognized. Deep inside her wounded heart, she had somehow unearthed more strength than she had known she possessed.

  “Lady Clarissa. It would seem you’ve been snooping through my personal papers.” Pierce’s voice grew curt and cool. “Taking you home is impossible, I fear. You have no home.”

  “I realize we are pockets to let, but the home remains.”

  He paused, weighing his words, expression impenetrable. “It is mine.”

  Shock rendered her speechless for a few tense moments. His deception had gone deeper than she realized, then. He had claimed to be giving her father a reprieve from the thirty thousand pounds he owed, but in truth, Pierce had merely been removing him from the home he had acquired. Likely it was how he’d known of her father’s mortgaging.

  “Liar. You told me if I came with you, my father would be given the opportunity to pay his debts.” Her voice broke.

  “The deed to the home was already in my possession.” He raked a hand through his golden hair. “I was and am still providing him with ample time to pay the thirty thousand.”

  Clarissa forced her chin up. “You may own my home, but you do not own me, sir. You cannot make me stay here with you.”

  “Where do you propose to go, my lady? Have you a relative who will take you in?”

  He knew she did not. She had confided the sad state of her affairs to him.

  “To my father in the country,” she improvised. Drat. She had not thought of where she would go if not the Grosvenor house.

  “And what if you are carrying my child?”

  The notion knocked the breath from her, nearly sent her crumpling to the floor. Despite herself, she had to admit the prospect was not entirely unwelcome. Even after she had uncovered his deception. Even after she knew him for the scoundrel he was. No, she must not allow herself to weaken. There was no room for foolishness now. She had to summon up the courage to leave him.

  His look was grim. “I can see you did not think of such a possibility. Will your father treat you to the same courtesy he paid my mother, do you suppose?”

  “What?” She searched his face, lost. The journal had spoken of a desire for revenge, but she had assumed it was based upon something her father had said in an inebriated state, some insult he’d dealt unknowingly. Surely Papa was not the man who had mistreated Pierce’s mother?

  “Your father is the nobleman who turned my mother out and forced her into a life of prostitution.” Pierce sneered. “She had no family, nowhere to go, and he refused to listen to her. She begged him, Clarissa.”

  “You cannot know that was the way of it.”

  “She told me herself when I was old enough to understand.” He stalked across the room to her, so intense she had to quell the urge to back away. “He called her a whore, told her to leave his house. The same house I now own.”

  “Dear God.”

  “You don’t understand, Clarissa. You grew up with a roof over your head, food in your belly. I grew up with nothing other than a mother who debased herself to provide for me. I was the cause of her suffering. I swore to myself I would make amends for the injustice done to her.”

  “And so you chose me. You used me as a pawn in your game of retribution.”

  He reached out to her, clasping her arm. “You misunderstand. I never meant for things to go so far. Initially, I thought only to ruin your father by taking his possessions from him. But then when I saw you, and you were the most breathtaking woman I’d ever set eyes upon…”

  She scoffed. “Don’t think to feed me any more of your lies.”

  “I was attracted to you from the first. When I saw you, my plan changed. I decided to bring you here, yes, and ruin you, but at first it was meant to be in name only. I thought you’d be petulant and spoiled, and you’d deserve to be brought down in the world. But then I had you here in my home, in my bed, and I couldn’t resist the temptation. I realized you were not the woman I thought, but you were instead noble and kind. I meant to tell you the truth, C., truly I did.”

  Anger coursed through her. How could she have ever believed herself in love with him? God, she was such a naïve, hopeless fool. She tried to shrug off his touch. “Release me. I don’t want your odious hands on me.”

  Pierce ground his jaw, his hand falling away. “I wanted to tell you last night. I intended to do so.”

  “But you did not.”

  “I could not. I was afraid I would lose you.”

  Clarissa closed her eyes tightly, willing away the tears welling within them. “You have lost me anyway.”

  “No.” His hands clamped on her waist. “Look at me, C. Open your eyes, damn you.”

  Against her better judgment, she did, dismayed to see the anguish on his harshly beautiful face. “Nothing you say will alter my opinion of you.”

  “You told me you loved me,” he said, voice hoarse. “Look me in the eye now and tell me you don’t care for me.”

  She stared at him, mute. Of course he must know she could not. Love did not disappear so easily. However, that did not mean she could forgive him with such ease, or she could ever trust him with her heart again.

  “Tell me what we have means nothing to you, and I will let you go.”

  Clarissa had no choice in the matter. He was forcing her to prevaricate. There was no other way. She took a deep, steadying breath. “The truth is I allowed my sense of adventure to sweep me away into a grand delusion of romance. You and I are not of the same world, Pierce. I am the daughter of a viscount, a lady by birth, and you are nothing more than a bastard who peddles vices to the men of the ton. You are beneath me.”

  “Don’t do this, C.” His tone was one of warning, his expression closed.

  “The last fortnight was a lovely interlude. Most pleasant and…enlightening.” She mustered a watery smile. “For that, I shall be forever in your indebtedness. But it is at an end. You may have brought me here as if I were your spoils of war, but
you cannot keep me.”

  Pierce’s hands tightened on her. “I’ll be damned if I allow you to walk away from me while you may be carrying my child. You’ll remain until you get your courses.”

  The last thing she wanted was to remain, allow him the opportunity to change her mind. “I want to go. I will write you if there are consequences.”

  “Like hell.”

  Before she knew what he was about, he bent, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her from the study. She protested, pounded on his back with all her might, screeched, wailed, but all to no avail. With alarming brusqueness, she was deposited in an unfamiliar chamber. The door slammed at his back and the sound of a key turning filled the room with an ominous silence.

  Chapter Five

  A maid delivered her meals for the next few days. Clarissa was too miserable to eat. She began refusing the trays of food brought to her. She could not escape her own foolhardiness. The worst knowledge was that despite his deception, and despite everything she knew about him that told her to run, she still loved him. Would always love him. She missed him with a desperation that shamed her.

  Her mind raced in the quiet solitude of her chamber. Where was Pierce? Why had she not seen him or at least heard from him? Perhaps he had decided she would remain his prisoner after all, the ultimate forfeit in his need for revenge. She grew restless with wondering, worrying.

  One evening as the hour for dinner arrived, Pierce breezed through the door. Anger emanated from his strong, lean body.

  “The maidservant tells me you have been refusing your food. Will you starve yourself now to spite me?” he demanded tightly.

  “This is not about you, Pierce,” she told him, equally frustrated by their stalemate. More so that she had missed him.

  “Are you unwell, then? Have you missed your courses? What is it?” He came to where she stood by the window. He laid a hesitant hand upon her wrist. “C.?”

  How she had missed him, wanted him. Her resistance weakened. “I am not with child.”

  “Oh.” He sounded disappointed.

  “It is not certain,” she hastened to explain. “I…the time is not right.”

  “Why are you refusing meals?” His fingers curled around her bare skin, his touch sending a current of heat through her.

  She swallowed, girding herself against him. “I am not hungry. Nor do I appreciate being kept prisoner here in this chamber with no one for company. You cannot keep me here like this.”

  Pierce gave her a hooded look. “I will admit keeping you under lock and key was not one of my finer moments, but I did not trust you to stay.”

  “I would have left you,” she agreed softly.

  “I could not have borne it.” His cerulean eyes burned into hers. “You’ve become everything to me.”

  Her heart galloped within her chest. “How could I be everything to you after so short a time? Have you forgotten I am the daughter of the man who ruined your mother?”

  He shook his head, stepping closer to her so his familiar, beloved scent teased her senses. “I don’t understand it, but I’ve given up trying. What I know is you’ve completed me. You put a smile on my face. You make me want to be a better man for you. What your father did to my mother…it is not your fault.”

  “Do you mean it?” Clarissa did not dare to believe or to hope he could have come to terms with the past. That he could find forgiveness, or she had somehow had a hand in taming the wild, powerful man before her. He was Pierce Foster, the wicked rake, the hard-hearted gaming baron who ruined men with nary a care.

  “I miss you.” His thumb drew lazy circles on her bare skin. “And I am sorry, C., for any hurt I caused you.”

  Already, his presence had weakened her resolve, and now his words were a direct arrow into her heart. Clarissa was not altogether certain she could resist him. “Please don’t.”

  He drew her hand up to his mouth for a kiss. “I can’t think of anything but you. I walk through the club, and all I can think about is not whether or not the whiskey is flowing freely enough or if Melmotte is cheating, but you.”

  “You’re a renowned rake, or so I’ve heard. Surely there are leagues of women from which you could choose your next conquest.” She tried to keep the bitterness from her tone but did not entirely succeed.

  “You have every right to doubt me after what I’ve done.” The brightness of his gaze seduced her.

  “You lied to me.” Even so, she wanted so very desperately to kiss him just now.

  He kissed each of her fingers with slow reverence that nearly undid her. “I never lied about my feelings for you.”

  “You never spoke of feelings,” she reminded him.

  “With my body.”

  Clarissa’s own body heated at the powerful memories stirring within her mind. He had worshipped her body, bringing her to the heights of a pleasure she had never imagined possible. “Making love is not loving someone.” Novice though she was to the world of love between men and women, she knew that much at least. There was physical enjoyment and then there was rich, deep, abiding love. There was what she somehow, inescapably felt for him.

  “I love you, C.” His words were spoken so quietly he may not have said them at all but for the unwavering strength of his eyes on hers.

  “I don’t want you to tell me you love me to assuage my fears, or to make amends for deceiving me, Pierce. Please don’t say it unless you mean it.” She was too afraid to hope that he did.

  “I mean it.” With slow, precise movements, he lowered to one knee on the floor. “What you said the other day was absolutely true. You are above me, my better in every sense. I have been the worst sort of sinner in my lifetime and Christ knows I don’t deserve a lady as fine as you. But I cannot go on unless I ask you…”

  She shook her head in disbelief, wonder warring with love. “Ask me?”

  He swallowed, obviously nervous. “Will you marry me, Clarissa? I haven’t much to offer, but I could keep you comfortably, far more so than your father. I fear you’ll never be accepted into polite society the way you were. But I do have friends who are lords, and you will always be welcome within their drawing rooms. I would not dream of taking everything from you. I’ll even welcome your father into our home should you wish it. I know I’m a selfish bastard to even ask it of you, but I cannot live without you in my life.”

  Clarissa dropped to her knees and took him in her arms, dropping feverish kisses on his lips. “Yes! A hundred times, yes, you stubborn, foolish, horrid man.”

  “Horrid?” He grinned unrepentantly. “Don’t use all your flattery on me now, princess.”

  “You know what I mean.” They kissed, tongues tangling before they broke apart once more. “It was horrid of you not to tell me the truth from the beginning. But I forgive you anyway. I don’t give a straw about polite society. All I care about is having your heart.”

  Pierce fell onto his back, pulling Clarissa astride him. Her hands went into his hair. His hands hiked up her skirts to roam over her thighs. He was wicked, he was wonderful, and he was all hers. In him, she had found her purpose, her true home. They kissed and this time, it was the sweetest of all, for it was the kiss of a man and woman finding true love.

  “Make love to me, darling,” Clarissa whispered. “Tonight and forever.”

  He gave her a rakish half-grin. “My pleasure, princess.”

  About the Author

  Scarlett Scott has loved romance novels ever since she was eleven and swiped her older sister’s books to read by flashlight in her closet. Her mother caught her, but she remained undeterred. A self-described promiscuous writer, she dabbles in all sorts of genres but loves erotic romance best. She lives with her hero and their adorable but occasionally evil puppy and spends too much time lurking on her blog.

  Scarlett welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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