The Price of Pleasure

by Connie Mason

  “This has nothing to do with the investigation. It’s about us.”

  “There is no us, Reed. I thought I made that clear.”

  “You did, but things have changed.”

  “What things?”

  “Grandmamma has given her blessing to our marriage.” He waited for her reaction. It was not long in coming.

  “Why would your grandmother give her blessing when she knows I can’t give you an heir?”

  “She knows no such thing and neither do you,” Reed charged. “And since I cannot let you go, I see no reason for us not to marry.”

  Fleur took a shaky breath and tried to explain for the hundredth time why she couldn’t marry him. “I was married to Pierre for five years. Not once during that time did he get me with child. I’m barren, Reed. Why are you making this difficult for us? Why can’t you just leave things the way they are and forget about me?”

  “Tell me, love, can you forget about me?”

  Fleur swallowed convulsively. Would Reed believe her if she lied? She doubted it. Therefore, she told the truth. “I’ll never forget you, Reed.”

  “Good, there’s no need to forget me. Have you considered the possibility that your husband’s seed was damaged? Sometimes the man is at fault for failing to produce an heir. That’s what I’m counting on, Fleur. If I’m wrong, we’ll adopt. It’s been done before, you know.”

  Fleur still wasn’t convinced. “Your grandmother agreed to this?”

  “My grandmother loves me. She wouldn’t insist I wed a woman I didn’t love.”

  Fleur went still, her eyes shiny with tears. Reed loved her. How could she refuse to wed the man she loved with every fiber of her being? The man who loved her in return? Still, she hesitated. Could it be true that Pierre was to blame for her failure to conceive a child? The idea was so new it left her breathless. If a marriage was childless, everyone assumed it was the woman’s fault. No man alive would take the blame.

  Reed’s words gave her hope, but not much. She had lain with Reed countless times and still hadn’t conceived. What made him think she wasn’t barren?

  “Reed, I don’t think . . . ”

  He placed a finger against her lips. “Shhh. That’s the problem, you think too much. Do you love me, Fleur?”

  Fleur closed her eyes and thought about how lonely and bereft she’d felt these past few days without Reed. He’d become part of her life, part of her. Her love for Pierre paled in comparison to what she felt for Reed.

  When she opened her eyes, she found Reed staring intently at her. “I do love you, Reed. To deny my feelings would be denying my heart.”

  Reed gave a whoop of joy. “We’ll be married as soon as this business with the traitor is resolved. You soothe my soul and bring me peace.”

  After Reed’s moving declaration, Fleur became too choked up to speak. She merely stared at him, her eyes misty with tears. Not even Pierre had loved her as deeply as Reed did. When she looked into his eyes she no longer saw shadows; she saw only happiness and . . . yes . . . love. She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

  Reed reacted spontaneously, opening his mouth and drawing her into the kiss. She gripped his shoulders, drowning in sensation, flushed with the need to sink deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

  “I don’t know if I can control myself,” Reed whispered against her mouth.

  “Don’t,” Fleur gasped.

  “I don’t want to take you here. You deserve better. I want to undress you slowly, lay you down on a soft bed and arouse you until you’re wild for me.”

  Her voice was a ragged whisper. “I want that, too.”

  “Then we’re in agreement,” Reed said as he scooped her into his arms and strode to the door.

  “Reed! Wait! You can’t carry me to my bedchamber at this time of day. What will the servants think?”

  “Frankly, I don’t care.”

  He opened the door and bumped into Updike, standing guard, no doubt. Updike stared gravely at Fleur and asked, “Do you require my help, my lady?”

  Overcome with embarrassment, Fleur buried her face against Reed’s chest and murmured, “No, thank you.”

  “What your mistress wishes to say is that we will require dinner for two served in Lady Fontaine’s bedchamber at eight o’clock. Until then, we don’t wish to be disturbed. Oh, yes, inform John Coachman that I’ll find my own way home.”

  Updike stood firm, refusing to step aside. “Are congratulations in order, my lord?”

  Reed laughed. “Indeed they are. Lady Fontaine and I just became engaged.”

  Beaming from ear to ear, Updike said, “Felicitations, my lady. May I tell Lisette?”

  Once again Reed answered. “By all means; tell anyone you like. Now will you step aside?”

  If Updike hadn’t moved, Reed would have barreled past him.

  “The whole household will know what we’re up to,” Fleur scolded. “Did you have to be so obvious?”

  “Don’t you think they already know about us? I’ve learned that servants know everything their employers do.” He reached her bedchamber and opened the door. “Forget about them. Tonight is just for us.”

  He set her on her feet and closed the door behind them. Then he found a faggot and dipped it into the hearth. When it caught fire, he touched the flame to a candle. His eyes gleamed like silver when he finally turned to Fleur, lowered his head and lightly grazed her earlobe with his teeth. Then he nuzzled the soft skin behind her ear, inhaling the fragrant aroma of roses lingering on her skin. The scent weakened his knees and made him dizzy with need. Her arms circled his waist, melding their bodies together. If he didn’t get her naked soon, Reed feared he would explode.

  With gentle hands, he unfastened the tiny buttons holding together her bodice. When the last button was undone, the bodice fell away. He reached up and slid the sleeves down her arms. Desire darkened his eyes when he realized she was unfettered by a corset.

  “No corset?” he whispered. “How fortunate for me.”

  “I knew no one would call on a raw day like this, so I dressed comfortably.”

  “Thank God for intelligent women.” He stripped away her gown and then her chemise, baring her to his avid gaze. “Your beauty never ceases to amaze me,” Reed said reverently.

  “I’m no great beauty, Reed. The ton would consider me average looking. Lady Violet is lovely by Town standards.”

  He stared at her. High, full breasts beckoned his hands and lips. The indentation of her waist gave way to the sinuous curve of her hips. His gaze settled on the midnight tangle of curls at the apex of her thighs before continuing down her shapely legs to her graceful ankles.

  “You’re not just beautiful, you’re exquisite. You underestimate your appeal.”

  “You talk too much,” Fleur said as she set to work untying the complicated knot of his soggy cravat. His damp coat and shirt came off next, joining the pile of discarded clothing on the floor.

  Reed caressed her back with long, slow strokes as she unbuttoned the placket on his breeches and peeled them down his hips. He gave her a dimpled smile as he kicked off his boots and stepped out of his breeches. Finally his erection sprang free. When she reached down and ran her fingers down his cock, he sucked in a sharp breath. Emboldened, she cupped his balls. His pleasure intensified until it bordered on pain. When he groaned, her hand stilled, and she looked up at him.

  “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

  She stroked him again. Heat poured through him. Every muscle tensed and quivered as he flexed his loins and thrust himself into her hand. Wrapping her hand around him, she gently squeezed. His groin tightened painfully. Glancing down, he saw a pearly drop appear at the tip of his engorged sex.

  “Enough,” Reed said in a gravelly voice he barely recognized as his own.

  Hooking his arm under her knees, he scooped her up, carried her to the bed and followed her down. His hand brushed over the curve of her bottom, then caressed the silken petals of her sex fro
m behind, finding them already swollen and moist. With a deliberate lack of haste, he continued to arouse her. Turning her onto her back, he covered her nipples with his mouth and suckled, first one and then the other. Suddenly she pushed him away, startling him. If she asked him to stop, he thought he would surely die.

  Reluctantly he reared up and stared down at her. Then he let out a bark of surprise when Fleur shoved him down and straddled him.

  “Fleur, what . . . ”

  “You’ve had your turn; now it’s mine.”

  Grasping his cock between her hands, she lowered her head and drew him into the hot cavern of her mouth. She tasted him with her tongue, lapping the pearly drop at the tip, arousing him unbearably with her lips and mouth.

  “Minx!” Reed growled. “If you don’t stop, this will end before it gets started.”

  Grasping her waist, he lifted her away and rolled her beneath him. He settled himself between her splayed thighs and braced himself on his elbows, staring into her eyes.

  Fleur squirmed beneath him. “Please, Reed, don’t make me wait.”

  The blunt tip of his erection brushed through the curls between her legs and over the dewy folds of her sex, teasing her unmercifully. Her fingernails scored his back in a silent plea. Gazing intently at her, he thrust hard and slid deep inside her.

  And found heaven.

  Her body gripped him like a velvet glove. As he began to thrust and withdraw, she rose up to meet him, her breath coming in ragged puffs of air. His own breathing turned rough. Need scored him, and his thrusts became frantic. He glanced down at Fleur, relief pounding through him. She appeared to be on the cusp of climax. His control splintered.

  “Come with me, Fleur. Come with me now.”

  He thrust hard, deep, imbedding himself to the hilt, then stilled, watching her. Her face was flushed, her lips parted. Her eyes were closed, her fingers bit into his back and her inner muscles clenched around him, squeezing his cock. The moment he felt her body go limp, he unleashed the passion clawing at him. Burying his face in the fragrant curve of her neck, he shouted her name and freed his seed.

  When their shudders subsided, Reed found the energy to raise his head and look down at her. Fleur’s eyes slid open, and she smiled at him.

  “That was . . . ”

  “Incredible, magical,” Reed suggested. “I promise it will always be like this for us.”

  A knock sounded on the door. “That will be our dinner,” Reed said.

  He rose and pulled on his breeches.

  Fleur flushed a bright red when Reed opened the door, admitting Updike. Directing his gaze anywhere but at the bed, Updike walked into the room and placed the tray on the table.

  “Will that be all, my lord?”

  “That will be all, Mortimer.”

  Updike blushed as he drew himself up to his full height, bowed and made a hasty exit.

  “You shouldn’t have teased him,” Fleur scolded.

  “I couldn’t help it.” Reed glanced at the tray, then at Fleur. “How hungry are you?”

  For a moment Fleur didn’t know what he meant, until he started peeling off his breeches. “I’m ravenous, but not for food,” she replied.

  “I hoped you’d say that.”

  Reed had the presence of mind to lock the door before joining her in bed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fleur awoke to sunshine and a warm body snuggled against her back. The feeling was so blissful, she wanted to savor it as long as she could. A smile curved her lips as she burrowed deeper into Reed’s warmth. He had made love to her last night in every way a man could love a woman.

  Even more satisfying, Reed hadn’t merely made love to her with his body, he loved her with his heart, and his grandmother had given her blessing to their marriage. Absolutely nothing could mar this day. It was the happiest of her life.

  Reed was sleeping so soundly, Fleur didn’t have the heart to awaken him. Carefully, she slid from the mattress without disturbing him.

  Her stomach growled. She glanced at the untouched food that sat congealing on the tray and realized they had never gotten around to eating. She checked the clock on the mantel, surprised to see it was past ten. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept this late.

  With as little noise as possible, she made a hasty toilette, dressed in a simple gown and left the bedchamber, closing the door quietly behind her.

  She entered the breakfast room and pulled the bell pull; Updike appeared moments later. He seemed surprised to see her alone.

  He set a steaming teapot on the table. “Good morning, my lady. What would you like for breakfast?”

  “I’m famished, Updike. I know it’s late, but would you ask Cook if she has time to prepare coddled eggs, bacon, tomatoes and toasted bread? Oh, and maybe she would include one of those sticky buns I’m so fond of.”

  Updike bowed and left to convey Fleur’s wishes to the kitchen. Fleur sipped her tea, a contented smile playing on her lips. She was going to be Reed’s bride. It seemed like a dream come true.

  Fleur dug into her breakfast when it arrived, savoring every bite. She was nibbling on her sweet bun when Up-dike announced visitors. Before she could ask who was calling, Lady Helen and Lady Violet barged into the room, followed by their toady, Gallard Duvall.

  “Helen, Violet, what are you doing here? Isn’t it a little early to be out calling?”

  “This can’t wait,” Violet insisted.

  “Have you eaten? Will you sit down and take tea with me?”

  “No, we won’t be long,” Violet snapped. “We came to tell you what a bitch you are. You finally got Reed to toss us out on the street.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Lashing out, Violet slapped Fleur across the face. Fleur reared back, more stunned than hurt. “Get out!” she ordered, struggling to control her anger. “How dare you come into my home and assault me? Updike, show the ladies the door.”

  “Stay where you are, Updike. The ladies will leave after I am done with them.”

  Reed stood in the doorway, casually dressed in an open shirt, breeches and, in an astonishing breach of etiquette, he was barefoot. Smiling at Fleur, he strolled into the room.

  Violet gaped at Reed and blanched. Then without warning she rounded on Fleur. “Bitch! Whore! No wonder Reed didn’t come home last night. He was with you, in your bed, doing God only knows what.”

  She raised her hand and would have struck Fleur a second time if Reed hadn’t grasped her wrist in a bruising grip. “I won’t allow you or anyone else to abuse my fiancée.”

  “Your fiancée?” Helen repeated, clearly stunned.

  “You and the countess are to be married?” Duvall echoed, apparently as surprised as the ladies.

  Releasing Violet’s wrist, Reed returned to Fleur’s side and kissed her cheek. “Yes, my fiancée. Aren’t you going to congratulate us?”

  “Wait until your grandmother hears this,” Violet said indignantly. “She doesn’t approve of Fleur, you know.”

  “You’re mistaken, Violet. Grandmamma gave her blessing to our union.”

  Ignoring the stunned silence following his words, Reed pulled out a chair beside Fleur and sat down. “I’m hungry. Updike, will you ask Cook to fix me the same thing your mistress ordered this morning?”

  “Right away, my lord. Shall I show your guests the door?”

  “That’s a splendid idea, Updike, though I’m sure they can manage on their own.” He turned to Helen and Violet. “You have but a few days left to make other living arrangements. I suggest you make haste. I’m sure Duvall will give you whatever help you need.”

  “Indeed,” Duvall said, patting Helen’s arm.

  “This way,” Updike said in his haughtiest voice as he herded all three uninvited guests out the door.

  Fleur turned to Reed and smiled. “That was rather unpleasant.”

  Reed returned Fleur’s smile. Seconds later his smile turned into a frown as he gently stroked her re
ddened cheek. “She struck you! The bitch had the gall to raise her hand to you. I thought I arrived in time to stop her from abusing you.”

  “You did arrive in time. She would have struck me a second time if you hadn’t intervened.”

  Reed’s breakfast was served. “I’ll make sure she never gets near you again.”

  “She didn’t hurt me. Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.” She poured tea into their cups. “Violet is the least of our worries. I’m much more concerned about the investigation.”

  “You’re not involved in any of that anymore, remember? I dismissed you from the investigation.”

  “I chose to ignore you. What is our next move? Where do we go from here?”

  “Your next move is to plan our wedding with Grandmamma. Mine is to find a traitor.”

  “Not without my help,” Fleur argued. “You need me.”

  Reed laid his knife and fork down on his plate. “I don’t want to lose you, Fleur. We’re dealing with dangerous people. If they know about the Black Widow, they’ve already guessed the rest. The traitor may be out for your blood as well as mine.”

  Fleur shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would we still be important to Napoleon’s government?”

  Reed shrugged. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

  “I wonder how long it will be before word of our engagement becomes common knowledge?”

  Laughing, Reed wiped his lips with his napkin and tossed it down. “The news is probably making the rounds as we speak. Helen and Violet are notorious gossips. And you know how servants talk among themselves.”

  Reed rose, looked down at his bare toes and grinned. “My boots should be dry; I built up the fire and placed them and my coat in front of the hearth. It’s time I left. I’ve begun an investigation into Henry Dempsey’s background.”

  “Good, I’ve been suspicious of him from the beginning. I’ve been invited to Lady Ogleton’s ball tonight. Shall we attend together? Perhaps we can learn something new. It’s supposed be a well-attended affair.”

  “Good idea. We’ll make our first appearance as a couple and keep our eyes and ears open. I’ll call for you at nine.”