One Summer of Surrender

by Jess Michaels

  Gray threw up his hands. “Lucien!” he burst out. “Goddamn, it is bad enough you did something so foolish at Vivien’s, but to follow Elise across town?”

  “I know, I know,” Stenfax said, waving off his brother’s sharp disapproval. “I just couldn’t stop myself. I needed to apologize for my behavior. But the new duke came in, interrupted us. It’s Kirkford’s cousin—Ambrose, I think his name was.”

  “Yes, I heard he won the battle for the crown,” Gray said. “Buffoon that he is.”

  “Well, he is a buffoon with power. And he seems to be wielding it over Elise. So I want to know more about him.” He finished the sentence and heard it ring in the air around him. He heard the desperation to his tone, the protectiveness that should not have been reserved for Elise after all she’d done.

  And even if he hadn’t heard it, he certainly saw all those things reflected in Gray’s expression. His brother moved toward him, catching his arms and staring up into his eyes.

  “Listen to yourself,” Gray said softly, almost gently. “Damn it, Stenfax, listen to your words and remember the past. If you aren’t capable of doing so, then listen to me. Elise pretended to be something she wasn’t. She pretended to care not just about you, but about all of our family. She wound her way into our lives and our hearts, none more than you. But she was false, Lucien. The moment she was offered a higher title and a larger purse, she turned away from you, from all of us.”

  “I know,” Stenfax said, fighting the urge to defend Elise from his brother’s accusations. After all, they were true.

  “You know, but you don’t seem to recall the consequences of her actions.” Gray backed away. “I saw what it did to you, I saw what it did to Felicity. Elise’s betrayal came so quickly after Felicity was widowed, after she escaped that bastard she married. She needed Elise and it broke her heart nearly as much as it broke yours. I watched what that woman did to you both. And she didn’t give a damn about your feelings.”

  Lucien shook his head. “Yes, I realize everything you’re saying is true. And I understand exactly why you and Felicity despise Elise. Why you wouldn’t want to see me ensnared in her trap once again.”

  Gray stared at him for what felt like forever. “You understand, but you still want to know more about the new Duke of Kirkford.”

  Stenfax pressed his lips together. “Yes,” he whispered at last.

  Gray sighed, shoving a hand through his hair as he paced away to the fire. He stared at the dancing flames for a moment before he turned back. “Marina and Folly are back in Town. She is related to Kirkford, third cousins or something to the effect. We could ask them.”

  Stenfax nodded slowly. “Yes. I’m certain she would know something about the man. Arrange the meeting if you would. I’m certain the two of them would love the chance to go through all my mistakes on this subject just as you have.”

  Gray gritted his teeth. “It’s not a matter of going through the mistakes, Lucien, it’s fearing the costs if you forget the past. Don’t forget, we were all there that night. We all know what we almost lost thanks to her.”

  Lucien bent his head. “I understand.”

  Gray moved toward him, wrapping an arm around him. “It’s out of love that I worry,” he reminded him. “And it is out of love that I ask that you don’t see her again, Stenfax. Please.”

  Stenfax sighed heavily. Then he nodded. “I won’t.”

  He felt his brother relax with that vow and Gray stepped away. But as Gray changed the subject of their conversation to far less explosive topics, Stenfax couldn’t help but feel guilty. The fact was, he had just lied. He had every intention of keeping a close eye on Elise.

  He just hoped he’d be able to control himself while he did it.

  Chapter Five

  Elise sat at a corner table in Vivien’s club, suitors surrounding her. She forced a smile at one of the men who was talking to her, even as her mind wandered.

  In truth, this process was not that different from the courtships she saw in Society. Of course, the setting was vastly different, with couples openly displaying and often openly relieving their lust. And the men were more obvious with their intentions and desires when they spoke to her.

  But otherwise, they circled her, chatting with her mindlessly, peacocking around her with displays of how they would take care of her financially or physically.

  She let out a long breath as her closest companion leaned in. It was the Viscount Highbridge who showed her the most attention and demanded the most from her in return. She observed him a bit more closely.

  He was older than she was by at least twenty years. She thought that at one point he might have been a friend of her late father’s, for she felt as though they’d met a long time ago. That didn’t seem to dissuade him. He kept leaning toward her. Kept letting his hand rest on hers as they spoke.

  There was no doubting his interest, but also no denying that she felt nothing at all when he looked at her or touched her. Not even a flutter of interest.

  Damn Lucien. He had thrown her entire plan on its head by…by…well, by being him and reminding her how much she wanted him. One little taste of him and the flavor of all else was utterly ruined.

  “Would you care to dance, Your Grace?” Highbridge asked, sending meaningful looks to the other men circling her.

  She forced her attention fully on her companion. “That would be very nice, thank you.”

  She rose and the rest stood with her, murmuring their desire for her to save another for them, as well. She nodded as she took Highbridge’s arm and let him take her to the dancefloor.

  When he did, her eyes widened. Unlike at a Society gathering, the dancing here was far more scandalous. Couples pressed close together, moving in sensual displays. Some kissed and touched openly.

  She let her gaze flit to Highbridge. “I, er…”

  He shook his head. “We are only getting to know each other, my dear. I have no expectation that we will engage in such behavior.” He took her hand and spun her onto the floor. “Yet.”

  She caught her breath at the idea of doing such things with this man—ever. It was one thing to give oneself as a mistress, quite another to grind against a man in public without heed for those around her.

  Could she do that? Or was she just entirely over her head?

  “You look very lovely,” Highbridge said, his gaze sweeping over her in appreciation.

  She blushed. She was wearing another of her old gowns, altered so the neckline was scandalously low. She still didn’t feel comfortable with the air on so much of her skin. But at least it wasn’t black. How she hated black, and she still had a few months left of wearing it.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said, forcing a small smile for him.

  He returned it with a wider version. “What are you looking for in a protector?”

  She swallowed. No one had asked her that question before. She thought on it a moment, then said, “Someone who would allow me independence.”

  He arched a brow and his chuckle grated along her spine. “Independence. Well, most mistresses have a great deal of that, depending on the man. Are you saying independence in that you’d like independence to bring other men to your bed or independence in that you want your own home and funds?”

  Her lips parted. Another man in her bed? Great Lord, she was nervous enough about one.

  “The second, my lord,” she gasped out.

  “And what are you willing to do”—he tugged her closer suddenly, his hand straying far too low on her back—“for your independence?”

  She drew a breath to calm herself and said, “My lord, I—”

  He turned her as she spoke and suddenly they spun directly into the very tall, very red-faced figure of Lucien. Lord Highbridge released her immediately and she staggered at the sudden sensation of being free.

  “Stenfax,” Highbridge said. “Didn’t know you were here tonight.”

  He shot an uneasy look in Elis
e’s direction and she blushed. Damn it, Lucien would ruin everything. He was ruining everything, standing in the middle of the dancefloor, glowering at the man who had held her. Didn’t he know everyone would talk? In this room they would whisper, but this juicy bit of gossip might also filter wider into Society.

  “I came to dance with Her Grace,” Stenfax said slowly, calmly despite his tense expression. “May I cut in?”

  It was said as a question, but there was no mistaking it was an order. Highbridge knew it, as well, and turned toward Elise. “I hope we’ll speak again soon, Your Grace.”

  She inclined her head with an apologetic expression. He backed away, and when he was gone, Stenfax grabbed her hand and spun her into the steps of the dance. He glared down at her, wordless.

  She huffed out a breath. “What are you doing, Lucien?”

  His anger felt like a pulse between them as he growled, “Highbridge is a bastard.”

  She shook her head. “Yes, I had that sense, myself. But that isn’t really your concern, is it?”

  The hand on her back tightened, drawing her closer. He leaned down and his face was dangerously close to hers. “Isn’t it?”

  “No,” she whispered. “You’ve made that clear. So you don’t get a say.”

  She could see how frustrated that response made him, though she still didn’t know why. He clearly despised her, she had earned his ire. What more was there to say? Except he kept coming to her. He kept inserting himself in her life like he had some desire to be there.

  And it was unfair. And wonderful. And too hard to express.

  The music ended, but Lucien didn’t release her. They stood in the middle of the dancefloor, staring at each other. And slowly, Elise became aware of something else. Almost everyone in their vicinity was staring at them. Mistresses, straying ladies, gentlemen of industry and titled ones…they were all watching them.

  “Lucien,” she whispered.

  He nodded slowly. “I see them.”

  He backed away from her and issued a smart bow. Then he caught her arm and guided her from the floor. The others began to go back to their business, and she expected him to simply deposit her outside the ring of the dancefloor and leave, abandoning her to the consequences of his touch and his anger yet again.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he marched her through the ballroom, out the door and down a long hall. He threw open the first door he came to and all but dragged her inside. She stared around her. It was a billiard room, with almost nothing inside but a few chairs and a large table for the game.

  He leaned back and locked the chamber door before he moved on her. “I thought you weren’t coming back here.”

  She folded her arms. “I never promised that. What happened between us changes nothing.”

  “No, your ambitions never had any relationship to me,” he snapped, his eyes flashing.

  She caught her breath at his cruel accusation. To him it was true. To her…

  “Or do you want to clarify anything about the past?” he asked.

  She flinched. For the first time, he was directly offering her a chance to explain herself. But what good would it do? The truth would only hurt him as much as the lie had. More, probably. And it wouldn’t change what they’d lost. What she’d done.

  “If you hate me so much, if you blame me so much for our past, why the hell do you keep seeking me out?” she asked. “And publicly? Do you know what might come of that little scene in the ballroom? People will talk.”

  He shook his head. “Vivien is strict in her policies. No one talks about what they do here.”

  She pursed her lips. “I can’t imagine you are truly that naïve. Perhaps they won’t say where they saw us, perhaps they’ll never admit to the most humiliating parts. But someone will whisper to someone else that they believe you and I are circling each other again. It’s too good a piece of gossip not to repeat.”

  She could see that statement hit home, for he scowled deeper. And oh, how she wished she could cross the room and kiss that frown away the way she’d been free to do so long ago. She wished she could make him touch her because he loved her, not as some surrender to physical need despite his negative feelings toward her.

  How she wished so many things.

  “Honestly, Stenfax,” she whispered. “I don’t understand you at all.”

  “Don’t you?” he said, and he moved on her suddenly, taking three long steps that closed all the distance he had initially placed between them. “It’s a funny thing to hear you say that, considering you’re the one who did the unthinkable.”

  He was so close, she felt the heat of his body, she smelled the scent of him. He was so close that all she had to do was lift her hand a fraction and suddenly she was touching him. Her fingers curled against his chest and he caught a hard, harsh breath as he stared down at her.

  “This is the unthinkable,” she whispered. “Being with you again was something I never thought would happen again. And it’s impossible to be near you and not want…want…”

  He cut her off by bending his head and pressing his lips to hers. Once again, there was little gentleness in that action. It was like he had been fighting need and lost, washed away by desire that overcame hate.

  It stung, but it didn’t change the fact that his lips on hers were the most wonderful thing she’d ever felt. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to grant him more access. And he took it, spinning her around to lift her onto the billiard table, pushing her legs open so he could step inside and tug her even closer.

  She unbuttoned his jacket and slid her hands inside, reveling in his warmth and the flex of his muscles beneath his shirt. He grunted against her mouth, pushing his hips against hers so that she felt the growing evidence of his desire. The length of him nudged at her and she shivered in anticipation of what was next to come.

  Because she had no doubt what that was. She wanted him. He wanted her. And this was an avalanche that couldn’t be stopped.

  “Undress me,” she whispered, drawing her mouth away from his and staring up at him.

  He held that gaze for a long moment then slowly nodded. He pulled her to her feet and she turned her back to him. He unhooked her dress slowly, his fingers brushing her skin as he parted the gown bit by bit. He leaned in, his breath hot against her neck, and kissed the flesh he’d revealed. She sucked in a gasp of pleasure at the erotic pleasure of his mouth.

  When she was unbuttoned to the waist, he whispered, “You’re not wearing a chemise.”

  She nodded. “The gown is too low in the front. All of them showed.”

  He was silent for a moment and she looked over her shoulder at him. His expression was one of both excitement and frustration at her answer.

  “Right now it’s only you and me,” she reminded him, hoping that this odd jealousy her decisions seemed to inspire wouldn’t keep him from the next moment they could share together.

  He nodded slowly and slid his fingers beneath her dress, pushing it forward so it drooped around her elbows. She shoved it the rest of the way off and then turned as she shimmied it over her hips and stood before him, naked.

  He swallowed hard, his eyes darting over her from head to toe. It had been a long time since he’d seen her like this. She knew she’d changed in that time and she hoped she wouldn’t disappoint him.

  He reached out and let just his fingertips graze over her skin. Starting at her collarbone, he feathered his touch over her, then lower to her breast, flicking one naked nipple gently before he cascaded lower to her stomach, over her hip, and his hand fell away before he could cup her sex.

  “I often wondered if I dreamed our night together all those years ago,” Lucien said, his voice rough. “You couldn’t have been so perfect as I imagined. But…you are more perfect. More beautiful.”

  The compliment was the first gentle thing he’d said to her since his return to her life and Elise caught her breath at the power of it. Her love for him swelled
from deep within her, taking over every other thing in the room. Making her want to confess dark secrets, beg for forgiveness for a past she couldn’t change.

  But if she did that, this beautiful moment would pass. And she needed it, so desperately.

  “I want to see you,” she whispered, motioning to his clothing. “Will you let me?”

  Stenfax hesitated and she frowned. Was he so wary of revealing even his body to her, knowing that she’d taken so little care of his heart in the past? But finally he slipped his jacket off and went to work on his shirt.

  When they’d been together a few days before, both had remained mostly clothed. Today she caught her breath as he peeled his shirt away.

  He was so remarkably beautiful. He was muscular but not thickly built. No, his was a wiry strength, deceptive but powerful. She stepped toward him without ordering herself to do so. Her hand lifted, shaking as she pressed it to his warm, naked flesh.

  He sucked in a breath when she did so and his eyes fluttered shut. She smoothed her palm over him, memorizing the lines of his body. She leaned in and pressed her lips to him next, tasting his warm skin with delicate little licks.

  He groaned above her and she lifted her eyes without stopping her kisses. His eyes were open now, staring as she caressed him.

  She wanted to bring him pleasure. That fact rocked through her with enormous power. She wanted to give him something without expecting anything in return.

  She knew one way to do it. A thing she’d only seen in books and in the naughty paintings that hung on Vivien’s walls, had never once considered doing for her late husband. But for Lucien?

  Well, for Lucien she would do anything and everything.

  She reached down and unfastened his trousers. He pushed them away and his cock came loose. He was already hard as she dropped to her knees on the soft carpet before him. Hard and ready.

  She shivered and looked up at him as she cupped him. His eyes were wide, his expression uncertain.