The Price of Temptation

by Williams, Harmony

  “In that case, what did you do to collect such a stench?”

  He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. “In this, darling, I think you’d prefer not to know.”

  “Hmph,” she said but continued walking to where they could hail a hack. They had work to do yet before the mummy unveiling.

  Chapter Ten

  Adam’s fingers grazed Lily’s collarbone as he fastened the necklace. A shiver coursed over her skin and down her spine at the touch. He watched its progress, watched her nipples pucker beneath the thin muslin of her dress, and the four years separating them melted away. They were husband and wife again, the passion between them simmering until they could closet themselves away.

  Except, this time, he had no lady’s maid to shoo away in order to claim the intimacy of helping Lily dress. She wasn’t the brazen woman who’d once seized the pleasure between them as if it were their last day in this world. This woman was cautious, wary. She had erected a shield of ice between them that his small flirtations of the past few days had left no mark upon.

  You could woo her. He had never shied away from a challenge. As he brushed his fingertips along the warm, smooth skin bared by her dress, he savored her reaction. Involuntary, if the sharp edge to her glittering green eyes was any indication.

  What future did they have, two people so different from whom they’d been four years ago?

  Seated next to her on the white vanity stool, he stared at their reflection. Light glittered from the rushlight positioned on the bedside table and another next to the mirror. The wide, silvery expanse gave the room a surreal, dreamlike quality.

  “Why didn’t you sell the mirror? I see you’ve stripped most of the house.”

  “This is Mama’s room. She’s lost enough.”

  Grimly, Adam recalled the room adjacent, still filled with her father’s belongings. Although Lily pretended cold competence, she was sentimental at heart. It would be far easier to wound her than she let on.

  He would never forgive himself if he hurt her again. With the picture they made in the mirror, he could almost shut his eyes and imagine that tonight was for pleasure, not business. Upon returning from their night of revelry, he would unfasten the buttons down the back of her dress. He would loosen her stays, push them and her shift from her shoulders, and kiss every last freckle that adorned her porcelain skin.

  For a moment, their eyes locked in the mirror and he was certain she was caught in the fantasy, too. When she brushed her fingers over the citrines at her throat, he imagined she brushed them over his skin. Her tongue traced her bottom lip. Every muscle in his body screamed for him to touch her. Skin to skin, the slow glide and dance of man and wife as he carried her closer and closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

  He dropped his hand but didn’t look away. She was too much temptation, even dressed in a plain, blue-gray gown as she was. A vision that he’d all but created.

  Leaning into the warmth of her body, he reached over her shoulder for the spectacles lying on the vanity. He perched them on her nose, then pulled a few errant locks out of her pristine coiffure. When she looked delightfully disheveled, though not near as debauched as he’d like, he settled his hand on her shoulder. She lifted hers to place it over top.

  “How am I to see with the spectacles on?”

  “They’re no more useful than glass. You shouldn’t have trouble seeing through them as long as you keep them clean.”

  Her cheeks turned pink as she leaned forward, adjusting the spectacles on her nose. “I look ridiculous.”

  Never. He caught her hand and pinned it to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He felt the curve of her shoulder against his chest, the rise and fall of her breaths beneath his hand. Her lips parted as she stared at him through the mirror.

  “You look divine.”

  For once, she didn’t argue. His gaze fixed on her lips, wet from an errant swipe of her tongue.

  His voice rough, he asked, “Are you prepared to play your new persona? The spectacles are no more than a representation. You must embody her from the moment you enter Lord Ednam’s townhouse to the moment you leave.”

  “I know what’s at stake,” she murmured, looking down at the hands clasped on her lap.

  As did he. If possible, he would have taken the burden himself. But they had been invited together, and so they must present themselves. A unified front.

  Man and wife.

  Despite his reluctance, he forced himself to remove his hand. The longer they spent in each other’s company, the more she accepted his idle touches without protest. The more idle touches he bestowed, the more he burned for her. He was torturing himself, powerless to stop it. Every moment he had with her was time stolen.

  He rearranged her earring, admiring the curve of her neck. “Tonight, you are to establish your persona. You aren’t yourself tonight. You are Mrs. Darling.”

  Her breath hitched. “But I am Mrs. Darling.”

  She spoke so quietly he might have misheard.

  The sentiment roused every buried desire he’d had these past four years. He’d been prepared to relinquish the life he’d had, his vendetta against the rich who mistreated those who relied on them. All he’d wanted was a simple life—and her—Mrs. Darling.

  But tonight, it was no more than a name. A persona. Don’t fool yourself into believing it could be more.

  He swallowed hard. “Tonight, you are Mrs. Darling the scholar. Introduce yourself, but don’t press your company on those who seem reluctant. At some point during the evening, we’ll reference one of the articles. Lord Ednam will check his library and once he does, he’ll find your name as the author. This will lend to your credibility. If you can, offer your assessment on a jewel tonight. You have your tools?”

  Hesitantly, she nodded. “I have a small traveling case. I’ll bring it with me. It doesn’t contain much, monocle and a few other trinkets, but if I need to check the clarity of a gemstone it will help.”

  “That will be our goal, to find an Egyptian artifact with a jewel to show you at your most confident. Does that sound simple enough?”

  Her eyes widened in the mirror, almost fearful. When she twisted in the seat to look at him, her breath tickled his chin. His body hummed with anticipation. If he tilted his head down, he could kiss her. Thread his fingers through her thick hair and urge her against him, devouring her mouth until she forgot that their last four years apart had ever happened. It would be altogether too easy to lose himself in her warm, willing body…

  But she wasn’t warm or willing. She abhorred him. Their time together now, with only a slender door between them at night, threatened to be his undoing.

  He swallowed hard but didn’t move away. He wouldn’t kiss her, but if she did him…

  “What if I fumble? One misstep tonight can lose it all.”

  “You haven’t yet been introduced to the target. If you misstep tonight, it will not be fatal. I can’t say how well Chatterley will take it, but we’ll try again with a different social circle.”

  When Lily ran her tongue over her lower lip, uncertain, he bit back a groan. She must aim to torture him for the hardship he’d invited upon her. Because it was agony, sitting so close and yet unable to taste her. She took a deep breath and her breasts expanded to brush against his lapel.

  If I don’t kiss her, I will go mad.

  “The scholars specializing in Ancient Egypt must know each other. We may not have a second group to which to endear ourselves, if tonight ends in disaster.”

  With a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her face up. She didn’t pull away, but neither did she shut her eyes and lean into him. Once, she had sought out every private moment to steal a kiss and stoke their passion for one another. Their lives had changed drastically.

  He ached for the young, loving couple they’d been. He dropped his hand.

&n
bsp; “You have skill. You have determination. We’ve done our research. If in doubt, say as little as possible. Contribute only when you’re certain you know the facts. You can do this, Lily. I know you can.”

  She held his gaze and her breath for a moment more. The air was charged, almost sparkling with the shocks that eddied between them. Then, she pulled away. One of them had to.

  She patted herself down, straightening her pendant before she stood, the spectacles still perched on her nose. She shook out her skirts and turned to face him with a saucy smile. “Well then, Mr. Darling. I believe we’re due to depart.”

  His heart thudded painfully fast in the base of his throat. He unfolded his frame slowly, reluctant to leave this room. In here, they were ensconced in a different world. One in which her sisters didn’t plot his murder. A world in which they weren’t about to steal an artifact that was best left alone. This room held none of the taint of reality.

  But they had to leave.

  He offered his arm to her. She snaked her hand onto it, adjusting her spectacles with the other hand. She might think she looked ridiculous, but to him she looked irresistible. He led her from the room, bent on leading her to a place where she would inevitably charm and impress every man within earshot.

  The moment they stepped into the corridor, he was pinned with her sister’s displeasure. Willa stood in the doorway opposite, spitting mad at being left behind. He’d already firmly declined taking her along— She would reveal their game. As he passed, she turned up her nose, spun on her heel, and slammed the door.

  As they passed Sophie on the landing, although far more staid, he was met with the same censure. She glared at him before turning to Lily. “I’m not as boisterous as Willa, you know. If you needed one more for company…”

  Lily shook her head once, curt. She whispered to her sister, “I told you, it’s a closed event. I was lucky to garner an invitation for myself.”

  Her disbelief plain, Sophie nodded and stepped aside for them to pass. As they did, she whispered, “You have a visitor waiting in the sitting room.”

  Lily frowned. Adam urged her on. He would have encouraged her out the door to hail a hackney cab, but she balked.

  “I must see who it is. This will only take a moment.”

  He wanted to protest—they would be late—but he gritted his teeth. “I’ll fetch your shawl.”

  The closet held numerous shawls, some belonging to the other women of the house. Since Adam couldn’t tell the difference, he chose a blue to complement Lily’s dress. He shut the door as Lily’s clipped footsteps stopped abruptly.

  “Reid?”

  He nearly dropped the shawl. Balling it in his fist, he loped toward his wife and the man who was decidedly not supposed to be here.

  “Why are you here?”

  Adam stiffened as his nemesis answered, “I’m here to escort you to the mummy unveiling, of course.”

  …

  Don’t look behind you.

  Lily swallowed hard, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. Adam’s intent stare lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.

  In the drawing room, standing in front of the armchair he had occupied until Lily’s approach, Reid’s gaze was every bit as intense. When she’d paused in the doorway, she’d found him lounging in her chair with his legs crossed at the ankle. He’d looked for all the world like he was at home.

  Wasn’t he? He had bought their debts, debts that would grant him the house should he call them in. Lily wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt. The edge of the spectacles caught her gaze again, and she snatched them from her nose. She held the wire frames in her hand as she met Reid’s avid stare.

  Belatedly, his words sank into her bones. “You mean to accompany me? It’s a private event. Did you—”

  He took a step closer, his long legs devouring the distance between them. If not for Adam behind her, she would have retreated. Trepidation crawled down her spine. If the two men met face to face… Neither had made any secret of their low opinion of the other. Her precarious situation might turn volatile.

  She planted herself in the doorway, intent on remaining a barrier between them.

  “I will accompany you tonight to make certain this goes as planned.” Reid’s expression was ominous.

  Lily swallowed thickly. “It is a private event. I was invited with my husband as a pair.”

  He raised his eyebrows, supercilious. “Then introduce me as your husband.”

  The word crawled down Lily’s spine like a spider. I have a husband.

  She liked Adam no better. In fact, if she were to choose one man over another, wouldn’t Reid be preferable? She could have trusted the man she’d grown up alongside. This cold man… She didn’t know. He would turn her to ice the same way Adam seemed to be able to melt her with a touch.

  The change in Adam confounded her as well. When they’d met, he never would have agreed to help her without asking for something in exchange. Everything in this world comes at a price—his words. Yet he had asked for nothing, save perhaps her forgiveness. Atoning for his sins of the past. Unless he meant to fool her into lowering her guard all over again… Renewed tingles swept over her skin at the memory of his touch, the burn that had swept through her at his nearness no matter how she tried to resist him. But if this was another of his tricks, what did he hope to gain? She had nothing more to give.

  Caught between these two men, she almost wished she had never met either.

  “Lord and Lady Ednam have met Adam. In fact, he was pivotal in receiving the invitation.”

  Reid took another step toward her. “Then tell them I’m your cousin. Anything you must in order to gain me entrance tonight. I am your escort.”

  “They’ll expect Adam…”

  He laid a finger over her lips. The leather of his gloves was cold against her mouth. It stirred no warmth in her. Despite the danger, she took a small step back. When she glanced down the corridor toward the entrance, she found it empty.

  Had Adam heard and left? Lily swallowed against a stab of disappointment. It was better this way. Easier.

  Then why did she feel as if he’d abandoned her again?

  “You’ll make his excuses.”

  She’d already penned their acceptance. However, the steely look in Reid’s eyes brooked no argument. Should she, could she continue without Adam? He was the confidence man, not her. He knew how to manipulate the conversation to his benefit— He knew how to lie. If it looked as though she would fail, they’d planned for him to be there to save her.

  Lily’s heartbeat stabbed in her throat. She swallowed hard, but when she looked up into Reid’s face, her argument deflated.

  “Are you worried I won’t do as you asked?” She kept her voice low, in case her sisters lingered around the nearest corner. She hadn’t told them of Reid’s ultimatum—would never tell them—and she didn’t want them to piece it together on their own.

  For a moment, she thought her old friend would confess that he had no faith in her at all. A man who didn’t respect her would not carry through with his end of the bargain. These past years of single-handedly operating the jewelry shop had taught her that painful lesson.

  However, Reid’s face softened. He glanced again down the empty corridor before locking eyes with her. His fingers drifted up to one of the wisps of hair Adam had pulled from her coiffure. “It isn’t you I don’t trust. It’s him. Who’s to say he won’t sabotage you at the soonest opportunity—just to spite us?”

  The steel in Reid’s voice clashed against her. Her stomach turned inside out. Was that Adam’s game? She was so out of her element that she hadn’t considered his undermining the task.

  Had he, already? He couldn’t have. She had been with him every step of the way. Watching the house, altering the essays, but… Not when he placed them in the library. She had only his word and that peculiar scen
t he hadn’t explained. Without those journals, she would be publicly discredited tonight.

  She gritted her teeth. Adam had left her, not the other way around. He had no reason to blame her or act vindictive.

  Then again, neither did Reid. She had never crossed him, even if Adam had.

  “Very well. But we mustn’t tarry.”

  “I drove my phaeton here tonight. Shall we?”

  Reid offered his arm with a gallant gesture. As Lily slid her hands onto his sleeve, her gaze traveled up the stairs. At the landing, where intricate curves of wood intertwined like lace to form the railing, she caught movement. Her sister?

  No. As she strode for the entrance, she caught a glimpse of Adam. His expression was forbidding. He shook his head.

  I have no choice. Lily pressed her lips together and turned away, pausing only to snatch one of her sister’s shawls before exiting the house on Reid’s arm.

  As the door to Lord Ednam’s house swung inward, Lily adjusted the spectacles on her nose and kept her face turned down. She felt the footman George’s gaze like a brand. The moment stretched into an eternity as she held her breath.

  At last, he stepped aside for them to enter. “May I take your shawl?”

  She nodded, slipping it from her shoulders and holding it out with trembling fingers. Did he recognize her? Only days past, he had carried her through this house to the kitchen.

  As he leaned forward to take the garment, he whispered, “I see you’re much improved.”

  Lily’s mouth dried. She nodded, not raising her gaze. When in doubt, act demure. Adam’s instructions. She didn’t know if she was meant to act that way with the servants as well as the hosts.

  “A few days of rest helped immensely, as I said it would.” She offered a shy smile, hoping he would say nothing more.

  He did not. After whisking her shawl across his forearm, he shut the door behind them and bid them to follow him down the corridor. Lily leaned heavily on Reid’s arm, remembering to limp. Had it been her right leg or her left leg that she had injured in her fictional accident? She maintained the limp, slight enough to avoid the suspicion of the other guests—or so she hoped.