Barons Always Win Wagers (Forbidden Kisses Book 3)

by Catherine Mayfair

  “Please, you can tell me. I will not be offended.”

  Michael looked up at her. “No gentleman may attend one of his parties and partake in any gaming without a mistress at his side.” He shook his head. “It is why I have not attempted to win back my land, for I know no woman who would do such a thing.”

  Emma’s heart raced. So, she would have to pretend to be his mistress and attend one of the parties of ill repute to help him. Then a thought came to her.

  “If you lost to him after Caroline died, then you must have had a mistress with you.”

  He rose and walked over to the window. “I did not, but he made an exception for me. What occurred that night is the reason I live alone in near squalor and in shame for being such a fool.” He gave a rye chuckle. “At least I was allowed to remain here, I will give him that.”

  “You are no fool,” Emma whispered. “You made a terrible choice that night, and with your wife having died - and the hurt in your heart - it is understandable.”

  “Perhaps you are right.” He lifted his glass and then stopped before drinking. “I turn to this for consolation, and yet it has not aided me. It has proven to be a pitiful friend. Maybe it is time to consider leaving it.”

  She wanted to praise him for his words, to encourage him in his decision, but she worried it would then force him to ignore his own suggestion. Instead, she smiled and said, “What can I do besides play your mistress? Do you need money? I have some savings that is a nice sum. You are welcome to use it.”

  Michael placed the glass on the floor and took her hands in his. “Your offer of money is kind, but I cannot accept it. It is also why no woman, even you, can accompany me to one of the man’s parties. Do you not see?”

  Emma shook her head. “No, I do not see.”

  “Lord Whiskens uses his guests’ weaknesses in heinous ways. When men lose all they have, they often place their mistresses as a wager. Some even use their wives.”

  Emma’s eyes grew wide. This was as horrifying as the women sold into prostitution! It was no better.

  “Of course,” he continued, patting her hand as he spoke, “I would never do that with you, but all the same, it does not matter. He is suspicious of those he does not know, and you would not be able to convince the man you are my mistress.”

  He reached for his drink, much to Emma’s disappointment, and took a sip. She felt a tightening in her stomach as she thought of everything she had just been told. How could this Lord Whiskens be such a monster? She shivered. In truth, she did not want to ever meet him, but if she was to help Michael win back his land, she would have to.

  “Then what are your plans to win back your land?” she asked. “Your wealth, businesses, are they all lost?”

  “As sickening as it may sound, I will soon have enough funds to hire a woman to play such a role. Plus, I will be able to add more of my own savings to use for the stakes.”

  As Emma studied the man, her mind and heart battled one another. She wanted to help him, but to pretend to be his mistress? And at such a gathering as he described? It would be demoralizing to say the least!

  Yet, as she thought this, she saw the pain of suffering in his eyes. The pain of being a drunken fool, heartache and trust misplaced. Though he had many faults, he had given his life to save her. Could she not do this much for him in return? He was not asking her to be his mistress, only to pretend to be.

  “If you were to challenge him and win,” she asked, “do you believe he will return all of your property to you?”

  Michael nodded. “If I can say one thing about him it is that he follows his own rules. I would get it all - my land, this house, the businesses I lost – if I beat him. My life and name would be restored, I’m sure of it.”

  As he said this, Emma came to an understanding. The man needed to be happy, and he deserved to be so, for he had endured so much pain to be forced to live as he did. “You said you have the funds to play.”

  “I do,” he replied with a nod. “I have saved enough to challenge the man. It will require some great luck early on to best him. There are rumors that he is such a great player in the game of parlay, he has never lost.”

  “Parlay? I know that game.” Sally had taught it to her in secret, and if Constance ever learned of it… “It may serve to your benefit that I do, as I will play the part of your mistress.”

  “No,” he said without hesitation, and Emma was surprised at his firmness. “I cannot ask you to do such a thing.”

  Emma jutted her chin. “You are not asking. I am volunteering.” She glanced at her hand, which was still enveloped in his. “You are my friend and in need of help. Friends help one another, do they not?” Michael nodded, a smile forming on his face. “Then I suspect you must teach me everything I will need to know.”

  “Yes,” he replied. Then he kissed the back of her hand. “Starting tonight, I will show you.”

  Emma smiled, and then her heart soared as he pulled her in for an embrace.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “You are most welcome,” she replied. There were a few things she could teach him, but she was certainly curious what he could teach her.

  ***

  Emma was many things, Michael had come to learn, but she continued to amaze him in new ways at every turn. From proving her knowledge with the ice in the trough to promising to act his mistress so he could win back what was rightfully his, she had won his admiration from the moment of her arrival. Yet, he was starting to suspect that she was even more admirable than he had thought even an hour earlier.

  She sat across from him at a small folding table she had found pushed back in the attic. Not a heavy piece, it was a narrow-topped table with two sections that hung down on either side, which could be raised to form a table. Had he known it was there, it would have been sold ages ago, but he never considered that anything of any value would be stuffed away in a space that had not been entered in ages.

  Michael had come to like the Emma, seeing her more than a simple conquest as he had when she first arrived. Perhaps it was her ready smile. Or the way her eyes held his. Or her simply being herself. Whatever it was, he felt odd stirrings that he could not allow to surface, for he had not felt them in a very long time. Not since Caroline.

  “Michael,” Emma said, breaking him from his thoughts, “it is your turn. You must pay attention lest you lose before you even begin.”

  With a simple nod, he took the single die from her and rolled it. “Evens,” he said.

  They were playing a game of parlay, in which six cards were placed in front of each player. Rolling the die, the odd or even outcome determined which card the person could turn.

  As he turned over the appropriate card, he smiled at the nine of clubs that appeared and placed another bet. With three of the six cards showing on each side, the final bet would come to determine the outcome.

  Emma placed a finger to her lips. “This is a difficult decision,” she murmured. “I suspect that with the size of the bet you have good cards.”

  Michael grinned. His luck had returned, and he suspected Emma would not match his bet.

  She peeked at her cards once more and her eyes widened. “I will wager the remainder of my money.” She tapped the small stack of coins before her, and his confidence dropped. Did she truly have the better hand? Or was she bluffing?

  Though the stakes were not real, worry consumed him all the same. When he looked back at her, she fluttered her eyelashes, and his heart fluttered, as well. “I shall retreat,” he said with a sigh. “The better hand won.”

  Emma frowned. “No. Your hand was better, was it not?” She turned over the last of her cards, and they were not what he expected.

  A bolt of anger coursed through him. “Indeed. I had two nines and a king card.” Then his ire grew, for he was acting like a spoiled child!

  “Then why did you retreat?”

  He pushed the cards across the table and went to the window. “I do not know.” The sun had replaced t
he gray sky, and mist rose from the ground. The thought of clear roads made him sad, for once that happened, Emma would leave.

  “There is nothing wrong with falling for a bluff,” Emma said as she came to stand beside him. “But with a skilled player such as Lord Whisken, you cannot afford to lose.”

  Her words struck true, and he turned to her. “Do you think I do not know this?” he said, irritation pinching him between the shoulders. “I have lost everything, and more, to that man. I’m lucky he allows me to remain here in this house.”

  “And why has he allowed it?”

  Michael shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe to show me what I do not have? He is not a reasonable man, so it is nearly impossible to know what he is thinking from one moment to the next.” What he did not say was that he was frightened. What if he lost again? Doing so would only confirm what Michael already feared, that he was a failure just as the ton whispered about him. They would never see him again in his former glory.

  “You must believe in yourself,” she said as if she had heard his thoughts. “Come. There is much more to practice.”

  As Emma dealt the cards, he refilled their glasses. “Tell me, how did you learn to play this game?” he asked. “Did your brother-in-law teach it to you along with everything else?”

  Emma giggled and shook her head. “No. My friend Sally taught me. We spent many cold nights and rainy days learning different games of chance. When my sister was not around, that is.”

  Michael smiled. “I thought women only did embroidery and other feminine activities during the day. What has come to my ears today has changed my perception of you, and I’m unsure if I will recover.”

  This made Emma laugh. “Well, your perception of me must change, for I cannot take an ax and fell a tree.”

  They continued to play for the following hour, and Michael was amazed at Emma’s skill. Though he was still the better player, it was the advice she offered on each hand he appreciated.

  As they played, he thought of the past week with her. His priority had been to bed the woman, but now he wanted nothing more than to learn more about her. And most of all, he wanted to trust her, not only with his secrets but also with the feelings in his heart that continued to grow. Into what, he did not know, but they were there, nonetheless.

  ***

  The fire crackled, and night had fallen more than an hour earlier. Emma found the wine going to her head once again. It was seeming like a new tradition with the number of times she had consumed too much alcohol during her stay here. Well, perhaps not, for can one call two consecutive nights a tradition?

  Her lessons thus far she found easy to follow. Michael described the atmosphere of the party and what she should expect, and though she found her cheeks burning and the room shifting, she dismissed it all as the effects of the fire and drink.

  Michael asked her to don her dress, and when she returned to the room, he gave her a wide, appreciative smile as she returned to her place on the couch.

  “For the first few hours, the men boast about the women on their arms. So, I will warn you now, I will have to do the same with you.”

  “I understand,” Emma replied, though her heart pounded against her chest. She took a quick swallow of her wine to quench her dry mouth. However, when Michael turned to stare at her, she took another drink. He was so handsome with his stubbled chin and deep blue eyes! “Will you have to…kiss me?”

  He nodded. “I will. That is one of my worries. If I kiss you and it is not returned with passion, people will become suspicious. They will wonder why you are truly there. You must understand, these people are there in secret, so they notice when something is out of sorts.”

  “I see. You have no reason for concern. I will play my part well.” A mix of nervousness and excitement washed over her. She had played the part before, but not to the degree he was suggesting.

  “I must say it again,” Michael said with a sigh. “It does not sit well allowing you to accompany me. My name is already in ruins, but yours is intact. Perhaps it would be better if I go with my previous plan and hire a woman to attend with me in a few months. There is no need to carry on with this charade.”

  “I want to help you and to be there to witness your victory,” she said. “I want to see you regain all you have lost, for you deserve nothing less.”

  He shook his head. “Very well. If that is what you wish. Then we shall begin playing our roles.” He smiled as he took her glass and placed it and his on the mantle.

  Emma smoothed her skirts. This would be their first attempt to practice what he had told her, and she was nervous beyond belief. He was right. What if she became nervous during the party and ruined his only chance at winning back his land?

  “Should I…?”

  “Come over to me, woman,” he said with such authority that Emma had to fight to stand, her legs had become that weak. With a racing heart, she stood before him.

  Without warning, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Breathing became difficult, and when he covered her lips with his, she was glad he held her, for if he had not, she would have collapsed to the floor. The kiss, like his hands that moved to the small of her back, was possessive, and that now familiar desire began to stir in her.

  Then, as suddenly as it began, it ended.

  “That was perfect,” he said, his voice a husky whisper.

  “Thank you.” Secretly, she wanted more.

  “You must understand that I will speak to you as though you are beneath me.”

  She nodded. “I know you mean me no harm.”

  “Now, let us sit as the other guests do.” He took her by the elbow and led her to a chair. He sat in it, and Emma gasped as he pulled her into his lap. “We will look odd if we do not engage in another kiss. Imagine those around us doing the same as wine flows freely and wagers are made.”

  The thought of such a scene made her insides twist. “Michael…” Yet, when he kissed her neck, all thought left her and that fire returned, a river’s current of lava coursing through her body. “Michael…”

  “You are beautiful,” he whispered as he took her hand and kissed her wrist. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  Emma was unsure if he was acting, but as his lips moved up her arm, she did not care. She had no control over her own body or thoughts. “This is wonderful,” she said breathily.

  He tugged on the back of her dress, but when she went to speak, he silenced her words.

  “You are doing well,” he whispered in her ear. “Are you all right?” He placed a kiss behind her ear that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

  “Yes,” she managed to reply.

  It was as if all breath had left her body as he kissed her neck. She could do nothing to stop the moan that escaped her lips as he moved the dress off her shoulder, his lips following behind.

  She glanced down. The bodice of her dress had fallen dangerously low, exposing a good amount of bosom, and the look of hunger in his eyes was unmistakable. This had gone far past a lesson, and Emma could not think clearly enough to know what to do about it. Her heart and everything within her told her this was right.

  He cupped her face and kissed her again, a deep, passionate kiss that made her fill with desire. His lips moved to the hollow of her throat, and she threw back her head as he moved further down. Each kiss was strong and possessive, and she placed a hand to the back of his head to bring him closer to her.

  She could do nothing to stop the whimper that escaped her lips as he kissed the swell of her breasts, the desire in her swirling. Yet, it was her heart that moved with new feelings, ones she could not name but were overwhelming all the same.

  She intwined her fingers in his hair, but he pulled away, and for a moment she thought he would stop. Instead, he pulled his shirt over his head. She placed a hand on his taut muscles, her fingertips moving over the scar he received when saving her life. Yes, the man was a true hero, and his reward was just.

  He stood, picking h
er up in his arms as if she weighed nothing, and he carried her to the fireplace. He laid her on a blanket that was spread out on the floor and propped himself on his hands so he held himself above her. Her hands went down his back as his lips continued to bring her pleasure.

  “Do you give yourself to me?” he asked as he reached for the neckline of her dress.

  Emma nodded, and then he pulled the dress down further, exposing more of her breasts to him as an offering. He greedily kissed them, his breathing heavy. Passion unlike any she had ever experienced took over her body as his lips danced across her breasts.

  He grasped the sleeves of her dress, and her heart raced as it slid down further. Her breasts were now fully exposed and his eyes were as greedy as the lips that took the hardened nub between his lips.

  It was as though she was in a river of emotions, and when she felt his hardness press against her thigh, she thought she might explode. His lips returned to hers, and his palm moved across her breast, his fingertips sinking into the bountiful flesh. This had gone far past acting. Her body was now his to use for both their pleasure.

  Yet, when he reached for the button on his breeches, the reality of what was happening leapt into her mind. She had always dreamed of a hero, becoming one in heart, mind, and body. Yet, in those dreams, the passion she shared with her hero was in love. Though she cared for Michael, she did not love him.

  “Michael, wait,” she said as she grasped his wrist. When he looked at her, his eyes were filled with confusion. “I’m sorry. I cannot allow this to happen, for I do not love you.”

  He smiled down at her, a soothing smile. “It is all right to be scared,” he whispered. “I will be gentle.”

  “I have no doubt you will be,” she replied. The desire that had built in her was now replaced with regret. What had she been thinking? “But I cannot give myself to a man I do not love.”

  His smile faltered and he moved away from her.

  Emma pulled the dress back up over her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm.