One Night as a Courtesan

by Ann Lethbridge

  He eased into her, slowly, teasing, watching her face. She cried out, wanting more.

  Slowly he pressed deeper, until he ground hard against her heated flesh, then eased away.

  Where their bodies joined, the jewels moved and sparkled as he thrust home again and again, building the longing for fulfillment to greater heights with each driving thrust of his hips.

  She almost wept, knowing what she’d been missing all these years. She ran her hands over his muscled chest taut with effort, stroked his upper arms and learned the way they flexed as he moved, caressed his strong forearms with their sprinkling of rough hair against her palms. Never would she forget this wonderful meeting of bodies or the desire in his eyes as she drowned in their mercurial depths. At this moment of gloriously heightening pleasure, nothing separated them. Their souls touched and entwined.

  He hissed in a breath of what sounded like shock.

  Did he feel it too? The mingling of their spirits? When he held perfectly still except for the slight tremble in his arms, she dragged herself back from the brink of losing herself entirely and looked up at him, questioning.

  He bared his teeth with an expression full of the pain of denial. “The jewels,” he said hoarsely. “Only a Duchess of Dunstan may wear them.”

  She must have looked blank, because he chuckled, the movement vibrating through his body and into hers, where they touched in intimacy. She closed her eyes against the sensual onslaught.

  He began to move within her body, slow thrusts forward and slow shuddering withdrawals. Desire rose to new heights, torturing her with the release he promised but somehow denied her with changes of rhythm at the moment she reached the brink.

  She bit his shoulder, demanding the release waiting just out of reach.

  He stilled, leaving her hanging on the brink. She cried out in protest and arched her back, encouraging him on.

  He clasped her hips and held her still, gazing down into her face as he held her hovering on the brink of the abyss.

  “Alistair, please!” she cried, unable to bear the tension.

  “When you agree to marry me,” he growled. “It is the Dunstan rule.”

  She gazed up at him, shocked and disbelieving.

  He hung over her. A dark angel who had brought her nothing but pleasure. His eyes were hard, his expression darker than ever.

  “Say yes, Julia,” he grated out.

  A small word, forced from her once before. It had led to years of misery. This time it would lead to wealth and status the like of which she’d never dreamed. If he truly meant it.

  “Are you mad?” she whispered.

  His lips curled in a brief smile “Yes. I believe so.”

  He shifted slightly, sending more waves of tension and desire pulsing up through her body. So much pleasure it edged on pain. Alistair, please…” She could not keep the begging note from her voice.

  Another shift inside her, more heat and tension.

  She whimpered. How could she refuse? Why did she want to?

  “Not until you say yes,” he said hoarsely.

  “Yes, then. Yes.” The words were torn from her throat.

  “Thank God.” With a look of feral triumph, he plunged into her body, hard and fast, claiming her, branding her with every thrust.

  The jewels slipped from her body in the wildness of their joining. She arched her back to meet him as he drove into her over and over again. Then the climax hit like lightning and she flew apart in his arms.

  He shouted his triumph and spilled his hot seed inside her, shuddering with the force of it

  The tumultuous release held Alistair in its thrall for what felt like a lifetime. Finally he could breathe. He dropped his forehead to hers and inhaled a ragged breath. He’d done what he had sworn he would never do. He’d pledged himself to a woman on the Dunstan Rubies. Just as legend foretold for every male heir. Because she had taken him to heights of passion he’d never known.

  It boded well for the future, this desire he had for her. Even now, after what had been an explosive joining, he wanted her again.

  And by marrying her, he could protect her. Keep her safe. And for some odd reason that felt better than all the rest. How bloody strange. Perhaps he really was mad.

  Mad in the way of the legend. No. It could not be. He would not believe it.

  But God help him, if not for the compulsion to annoy Percy’s sanctimonious moneygrubbing father, he would have missed her altogether. Dear God. Someone else would have bought her. Enjoyed her delectable body. Cast her off without a thought. A growl of anger rose in his throat. Jealousy.

  Not once in his life had he been jealous of his women. It was a new and unnerving experience.

  Yet he still didn’t feel certain of her. When she’d promised, she’d held something back, an infinitesimal part of her that kept her at a distance. He would not allow it. Could not, if they were to fulfill what fate had wrought this night.

  Gently he rolled off her and sat up against the headboard, lifting her so her head rested against his shoulder and her deliciously languid limbs draped across him at chest and hip.

  He dropped a kiss on the tip of her beautiful straight nose.

  Contentment filled a dark empty place in his chest with a new feeling. A kind of airy lightness, as if bubbles had formed in his blood. He probed at the sensation with his mind, unsure what it meant. Probably nothing. He let himself relax.

  She sighed and pointed to the window where the gray of dawn poked inquiring fingers into the room. “The night is over.”

  He judged it no later than five. “I’ll send one of the footmen for my carriage to take us home in a while. There is no need for haste.”

  “You are too kind, your grace, but I have no wish for my landlady to guess at tonight’s escapade.”

  He couldn’t blame her for having second thoughts about marrying the Dissolute Duke. The profligacy of his life was no secret. “No going back on your vow,” he said lightly, not wanting to scare her.

  “Words spoken in the heat of passion, when lust overcomes reason, cannot be considered binding.” She spoke the words as if by rote. A hard lesson learned.

  “Pearls of wisdom from your husband, I assume?”

  A silent nod answered his question.

  “What promises did he make that he failed to keep?”

  A small choking sound, a laugh damp with tears, stopped his breathing as he waited to hear her answer.

  “I wanted to visit with my family,” she said quietly. “He never told me that having married me off to the richest merchant in London, my family refused to acknowledge the connection. Only when he died did I discover my brother hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with me now I smelled of the shop.” Bitterness mingled with sadness in her voice.

  “My husband left me with nothing because I failed to produce an heir or the noble connections he wanted for trade. I was what he called a sow’s ear.”

  He tipped her chin and gazed into eyes shimmering with tears. “Dearest Julia, I am no longer held mindless by the heat of passion, but I am in need of a wife and an heir. I must marry sometime. I can also guarantee there isn’t a family in England who won’t crawl on their bellies to be acceptable to my wife. A just revenge, don’t you think?”

  A laugh gurgled in her throat. It died swiftly. She gazed up at him with sadness, and his stomach cramped.

  “You cannot marry a…a criminal,” she whispered. “A woman who has fallen beyond redemption. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “I’m beyond redemption myself. What better partner could I have?”

  She winced.

  He squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “I’m sorry, love. Such cruel witticisms have become second nature over the years. Let me explain about the rubies. Perhaps that will help.”

  She glanced at the gems scattered among the sheets. “Why on earth would you be carrying them around with you for anyone to steal?”

  “The story starts a long time ago. Legend says the rubies contain th
e blood of the first Dunstan male and they lead the Dunstan heir to his future wife.” The legend spoke of true love, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak such nonsense. It was only a legend. But in this it would serve him well.

  “The rubies led my father to my mother. Her death on my birth left my father a cold shell of a man. His second wife knew the story and seduced another vow from him.” Proving just how worthless the legend was. “Earlier tonight, for a reason I cannot explain, though it seemed logical at the time, I had the urgent need to reclaim the jewels from my stepmother.” The desire to hurt her had been his reason. He laughed a little ruefully, still not believing where it had led. “When I put them on you, I’m afraid I sealed both our fates.” He held his breath, hoping she would not hear the lie.

  “Oh,” she said, frowning.

  Damn it. Was she waiting for more? For some declaration of the heart? She must know he didn’t have one. Would that cause her to turn him down?

  The same need to possess he’d felt earlier swept through him, and he pulled her tight against his side. “I’m not a good man, Julia. But I never lie. I swear on the rubies to never knowingly cause you pain, to accord you all the respect you are due and to remain faithful to you only for the rest of my life.” He took a deep breath. “It is the best I can offer, but you may be sure I will keep my word.”

  He sounded so straightforwardly honest, Julia could not help but believe his words. And if he did not care about what she’d become, why would she worry for him? For the first time in a very long time, the future looked bright. Not to mention the wonderful nights in the arms of her husband. The thought of having Alistair’s children made her feel especially warm inside.

  But she did worry. She didn’t want to bring him shame. “Are you sure of this? The one hundred guineas is all I really need.”

  “Will you break your word to me?” he said in a low demand that almost disguised the other notes. Hurt. Longing.

  So strange from a man who nothing seemed to touch.

  Her heart squeezed at the thought and she let go a sigh of defeat. “I gave you my promise, and if you insist, I will keep it.”

  “I do insist.”

  She kissed his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his hard jaw. “Then it seems we have a bargain, your grace. Who can deny such a powerful legend?”

  He captured her mouth with his in a long lingering kiss, until once more she began to feel the heat of desire and the dizziness of longing. He pulled away with a groan. “This will not do. If we are to marry today, there is much to be accomplish.”

  “Today?” she squeaked.

  He mock frowned. “You don’t think I am letting you out of my sight for a single moment, do you?”

  “But how can we marry today?”

  “If we hurry, we can nab the archbishop before he leaves home.”

  Scandalized, she gaped at him. “You can’t disturb an archbishop so early in the morning.”

  “A duke can do anything he wants.” He sprang from the bed and gathered their clothes from the cupboard. He tossed them on the bed. “Come, let me help you dress.”

  She picked up the rubies from among the bedsheets and held them out. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  She expected him to put them back in their black velvet pouch. Instead, he hung them about her throat and her wrists and fastened them to her ears. “I never want to see you in anything else,” he murmured low in her ear.

  “The archbishop will be pleased.”

  He gave a shout of laughter. “He’d die of shock and that would not suit our purpose at all.”

  He pulled her into his arms and briefly kissed her lips. “I swear on my life, I will never give you cause to regret this.”

  This husband-to-be of hers was a complex man. A man it would take some time to know in all his facets. Amid the stormy shadows of his eyes, she saw a ray of light, something of the innocent boy he must once have been. A bud of hope in her heart stretched tiny tendrils toward that light. A hope for more than a convenient bargain. It would require patient nurturing, but perhaps it would flourish given time.

  She returned his smile. “I trust you to keep your word, Alistair.”

  He pulled her close and nuzzled against her neck, sparking delicious thrills across her skin. Whatever they had, they would have this deep attraction. It was a very good start.

  “That is the nicest thing anyone ever said to me,” he murmured softly in her ear.

  “There are nicer things I can say,” she muttered back. “But I will save them for later.”

  Ann Lethbridge has been reading Regency novels for as long as she can remember. She always imagined herself as Lizzie Bennet or one of Georgette Heyer’s heroines, and would often recreate the stories in her head with different outcomes or scenes. When she sat down to write her own novel, it was no wonder that she returned to her first love: the Regency.

  Ann grew up roaming England with her military father. Her family lived in many towns and villages across the country, from the Outer Hebrides to Hampshire. She spent many memorable family holidays in the West Country and in Dover, where her father was born. She now lives in Canada, with her husband, two beautiful daughters, and a Maltese terrier named Teaser, who spends his days on a chair beside the computer, making sure she doesn’t slack off.

  Ann visits Britain every year, to undertake research and also to visit family members who are very understanding about her need to poke around old buildings and visit every antiquity within a hundred miles. If you would like to know more about Ann and her research, or to contact her, visit her website at www.annlethbridge.com. She loves to hear from readers.

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  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5294-7

  One Night as a Courtesan

  Copyright © 2010 by Michèle Ann Young.

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