Unmask Me If You Can

by Shana Galen

  Her father didn’t answer, and the silence went on for a long time. She stared at him, uncomprehending, but her father refused to meet her eyes. She went through the options over again, unable to think of another. Unless...

  “You can’t be suggesting I honor the contract?” she said on a gasp.

  Her father flinched, but the look in his eyes was guilty.

  “No! How could you even consider marrying me to him?”

  “Livvy, listen to me.”

  “No! I’ll never do it. Never!”

  “Livvy, you are the mother of his child.”

  “Richard is not his child. Richard is mine. Withernsea’s only role in begetting Richard was a few brief moments of violence. He doesn’t know about Richard, and he never will.”

  “Be reasonable, Livvy. The boy needs a father. What better father than a wealthy, powerful man? And anyone will look at the child and know his parentage. He looks just like the duke.”

  “You’re mad,” she said, her voice shaking. “What have I ever done to make you hate me so?” Oh, she had been a fool, a great fool. She should have run as far and fast from London as she could. She should have never trusted her father.

  “Don’t you see? We have no other choice. Withernsea will ruin us, and it would kill your mother. I’m an old man, Livvy. It will kill me. Where am I to go, how am I supposed to afford to care for your mother if Withernsea sees to it that our credit is not accepted, our investments go bad, and we’re evicted from our house?”

  She stared at him, tears distorting her vision and making him look like a shapeless, spineless mass.

  “It will be a temporary solution. Your mother won’t live much longer, and I need six, maybe nine, months to secure our assets so that Withernsea can’t touch them. Then you can divorce him, run away, whatever you like.”

  “And you think once he has me, he will ever let me go?” she said with a calm she didn’t feel.

  “I’ll help you escape. We’ll devise a plan.”

  She sneered at him. “Like you’re helping me now, Father? Tell me the truth, was this your plan all along? When you hired Jasper to find me, was it to bring me back so Withernsea could marry me?”

  “Of course not!”

  But she saw the lie. His eyes flicked away from her for a brief instant, and she knew she had found him out. “Withernsea wasn’t able to find me through his own means, so he had you hire Jasper. Jasper wouldn’t have ever agreed to work for him, but he’d work for you, especially when you told him you wanted me back because Mama was dying.”

  “Your mother is dying.”

  “Convenient for you then. And now it makes sense why you told me Jasper hadn’t called on me—yes, I know you lied about that. You’ve been keeping us apart because you want me for Withernsea.”

  “Because I saw there was more than there should be between you and that ruffian!” Her father exploded. “Lord Jasper clearly took advantage of you when all I paid him to do was bring you home. The man has no honor.”

  “He has more honor than you ever will. Did you know, Papa? When you signed the betrothal contract, did you know the kind of man Withernsea was?”

  “No.” He looked at her, and his expression was imploring. “I didn’t know. I’d heard rumors, but I swear, they were only rumors.” He sighed. “I made a mistake, but we’re in too deep now. I’ve lain awake countless nights, trying to find a way out. You marrying the duke is the only way.”

  “No.”

  He slammed a hand against the carriage frame in a display of anger she’d never seen from him before. “Why not? Is it because of that deformed mercenary? Do you imagine yourself in love with him? He’s using you, Livvy.”

  She clasped her hands tightly, so tightly her fingers hurt. “He is neither deformed nor a mercenary. He was wounded in the war. He fought under Lieutenant Colonel Draven. And he’s an honorable man. But yes, I do love him. And I don’t know if he loves me back, but even if he never wants to see me again, my answer to you does not change. I will not marry Withernsea.”

  The carriage slowed as they arrived at the town house. Olivia reached for the door before the footman could hop down and come around to open it. She jumped out of the conveyance and ran for the house.

  “We will speak about this more tomorrow!” her father called after her.

  Then I’ll be gone tomorrow, she vowed, and ran past Dimsdale and up to her room.

  THE DOOR FLEW OPEN and Jasper rose from the chair near the fire. He’d been dozing, the comfort of the chair and the warmth from the fire making him drowsy. But he’d barely gained his feet when she launched herself into his arms. He almost toppled backward from the force of her embrace.

  “Jasper,” she said and buried her head in his chest. “Thank God you’re here.”

  “I told you I would be,” he murmured, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the nurse sleeping in the next room. Breaking into the house had been incredibly simple. Waiting for Olivia had been much harder.

  “Yes, you did,” she said and hugged him tighter. Her put his arms around her, holding her close and hoping that would still her trembling. After a few minutes, he lifted her and carried her to the bed, cradling her in his lap as he sat on the coverlet.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened? Withernsea didn’t touch you, did he?” He tried to keep his voice level, but if the duke had laid a finger on her, he would leave now, find the man, and kill him.

  “No, that’s not it. I just need you to hold me. I need to feel safe.”

  “You’re safe with me, love,” he whispered into her hair. It smelled of lemon soap and flowers. She had flowers pinned in her coiffure, sprigs of lavender, and he plucked them out and dropped them on the floor. Then he found the pins and removed them as well. Her hair tumbled down her back in a soft wave. “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes. My head was aching. That’s better.”

  “Why don’t we remove your cloak? It’s too warm in here for such a heavy garment.”

  She nodded and he reached for the ties, loosening them and letting the cloak drop from her shoulders and onto the bed.

  “Why stop now?” she murmured, her eyes meeting his. The invitation was clear, and though he’d been hoping for it, he hesitated.

  “We’re in your father’s house. The nurse is just in the next room with Richard.”

  “Then we should be very quiet.” Her hand slid to the bodice of her dress and she pulled out one of the pins, then another, then another. Finally, the bodice was loose, and she slipped it down then moved off his lap to let the garment slide to her feet. Standing before him in her petticoat and chemise, her hair down about her shoulders, she looked very young and very beautiful. She reached for the strings of her petticoat, but he took her hands in his.

  “What happened after I left? Did Withernsea try to speak with you?”

  “He did speak with me.” Her gaze was fixed on the floor. “He wanted me to dance with him.”

  “Damn and hell. I told Phineas to watch over you.”

  The look she gave him was akin to gratitude mixed with amusement. “There was little he could have done. He can hardly intervene just because a man asks me to dance.”

  “And did you dance with him?” Jasper felt his jaw tighten. He knew she would have had little choice but to do so, but he didn’t like to think of Withernsea’s hands on her.

  “No. I refused him and I made an excuse so I could come home.” She reached out to touch his mask. “I wanted to see you. I needed you to hold me. And kiss me.”

  Jasper didn’t even think. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her between his legs. “So you want to use me to forget having to see him and speak to him?”

  “Is that wrong?”

  “Not if I don’t object to being used.” He bent his head and took her mouth, kissing her lightly at first and not resisting when she deepened the kiss. She needed him. Surprisingly, he needed her too. He’d been anxious and tense since leaving her after they arrived in London.
As soon as she was in his arms, all of that melted away. He felt her hands reach for his mask, untying it and removing it. He let her but stiffened when she ran a hand over his scarred cheek.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No. But you needn’t touch me there.”

  “I want to touch you everywhere.”

  He stilled, allowing her to caress his scar then place a soft kiss on it. He had the sense that she cherished him, every part of him, even the damaged, scarred parts he didn’t want anyone to see.

  She stepped back and untied her petticoats. That left her in stays and her chemise. The stays had been tied tightly, pushing her breasts up, and his mouth went slightly dry looking at the rounded flesh on display.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, reaching out to run the back of his hand over the soft half-moons of her breasts.

  She closed her eyes and swayed. “I can’t think much when you do that.”

  He stopped, grabbed her about the waist, and hauled her close to him. He half feared he’d scared her, but her eyes glittered with arousal. “What do you want, Olivia?”

  “You.”

  “Be more specific. What do you want to happen tonight?”

  Her cheeks turned pink, but she didn’t look away from him. “I want you to take me. I want to be yours. Completely.”

  “You’ve thought this over?”

  “I’ve thought of little else. I love you, Jasper.” Her hand came up to touch his scar again, and he felt a flash of heat. He didn’t know if was her touch or her admission. “I want to be with you, and I want you to make me forget everything else for a little while.”

  “I can make you forget without bedding you. I’ve done it before.”

  “I know you can,” she said, smiling at him. “But I want more this time. I’m not scared anymore. I want to know what the act should be like. I don’t want my only experience to have been with Withernsea.”

  How could he refuse her that? Even if he’d wanted to? “If that’s what you desire, you shall have it,” he said and spun her around to loosen the ties on her stays. She stood still and obedient as he wiggled the garment over her hips. Placing his hand on the bare skin near her shoulder, he murmured, “You can change your mind. Say the word, and I will stop.”

  “I won’t change my mind.”

  He bent and grasped the hem of her chemise. He pulled it up slowly, revealing pale skin made golden in the light of the fire. She lifted her arms, and he tugged it over her head then let it drop on the floor. His gaze drifted lovingly over her. At her cottage he’d told himself an arse was an arse. But he’d been very, very wrong. He’d never seen an arse quite as round and lovely as hers. She started to turn around, but he put his hand lightly on her waist. “Not yet.”

  She stilled, glancing over her shoulder at him and smiling. His hand slid down over her hip then cupped her bottom and squeezed.

  “What about your clothes?” she asked, voice low and husky.

  “My clothes?” He’d never been asked to undress before. The idea that she wanted to see him, that she found his body as arousing as he found hers, made his desire flash hot. He might have ripped his clothes off if it wouldn’t have meant having to make his way back through the streets of London naked.

  He released her and untied his cravat, letting the snowy material tumble down his white linen shirt. Next came his coat. That took a little longer, tightly fitted as it was. By the time he tossed it aside, she’d climbed onto the bed to watch him. Her eyes were large and dark, her mouth curved in a half-smile. He unbuttoned his shirt then pulled it from his waistband and yanked it over his head. Bare-chested, he regarded her. “Do you want me to continue?”

  She nodded.

  He removed his shoes and stockings then reached for the buttons of his breeches. He was already hard. How couldn’t he be with her lovely body on display? But the way she watched him made his cock throb.

  He loosened the breeches then tugged them down over his hips. Her eyes widened slightly, and she let out a shaky breath.

  “Should I put them back on?”

  “No.” She sat. “I suppose I’m not used to seeing a man. You’re larger than I expected.”

  “Since I’m being compared to a five-year-old, I won’t let your observations go to my head.”

  She smiled. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I didn’t see...when it happened before I didn’t see him. Will this hurt?”

  “No.” He took her hands and lay down on the bed beside her, stretching out until their bodies touched. “You’ll feel only pleasure, and if I do anything you don’t like, tell me and I’ll stop.”

  “You’ll stop if I ask?”

  “Always,” Jasper said, his fingers caressing her cheek. “And we needn’t do any more tonight.” He began to pull away. She was obviously distraught after the events of the night. He didn’t want her to wake up in the morning and regret anything that happened between them because she hadn’t been thinking clearly.

  But before he could rise, she pulled him back and kissed him. It was not the shy, tentative kiss he’d expected, but the bold kiss of a woman who knew what she wanted and had made up her mind to have it. He broke the kiss, his hands cradling her face. “I don’t want you to regret this. I don’t want you to remember this night as a mistake.”

  She shook her head. “Impossible. I could never regret even a single moment with you.”

  This time he was the one who kissed her, claiming first her mouth then pulling her against him and sliding over her. When the kiss broke, she looked up at him. “This feels nice. Your skin against my skin.”

  “I’d like to think I can do better than nice.” He kissed her again, then allowed his mouth to travel to her breasts where he licked and nibbled until she was panting with need. He parted her thighs with one knee and felt the heat of her. He explored her body, taking his time, watching her reactions, waiting until she was all but squirming. “Still feel nice?” he asked.

  “Better than nice,” she said on a gasp as he touched his tongue to her. “Oh, please. Please.”

  Rising onto his elbows, he positioned himself between her legs. His cock pulsed, eager to be sheathed in her warmth. “Do you want me inside you?”

  “Yes,” she said, her eyes clearing slightly. “I want...something.”

  He entered her slowly, making sure she could feel him, making sure she had time to stop him. Her hips arched, and he had to grit his teeth to stop from thrusting inside her. “More?” he asked.

  “Is that...?”

  “Yes.” His gaze met hers. “More, my love, or do you want me to stop?” He kissed her lips, trying to slow the pounding of his heart.

  “You can still stop?”

  He laughed. “I may not want to, but I can. Your choice.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “More.”

  He slid deeper, and she moaned. “You’re right. It doesn’t hurt.” She looked thoughtful. “It feels rather strange actually. But in a good way.”

  “More?” he asked between gritted teeth.

  “That’s not all?”

  “Not quite.”

  “More. All. Everything,” she whispered.

  He thrust inside her then, wrapping himself to the hilt. For a moment he thought he saw explosions as his pleasure heightened. She arched her hips again, and fireworks seemed to burst in his vision. He had to bring her to climax quickly now. He couldn’t wait much longer. He moved inside her, thrusting slowly, his eyes locked on hers as he slid in and out. Her breathing increased until she gave short, fast gasps at his every thrust and roll. “Still nice?” he asked.

  She moaned, and her fingers dug into his back. He slid his hand between their bodies and found her small nub, slick with moisture. He circled it with his thumb, in rhythm to his movements. When he felt her tighten around him, he stilled, then thrust deeply, sliding against that center of her pleasure.

  She came apart, her lips pressed together to keep from making too much noise. And as she reached clima
x, he allowed himself to soar. He let go, burying himself deep and stifling a feral growl as he pulled out and came on the bedclothes. He tried to keep his weight off her, but his arms shook. His entire body shook from the ferocity of his climax. It had been a long time, but he didn’t think that alone could account for the way he was reacting.

  Every part of him felt alive, sated, replete.

  And when she pulled him close to kiss him lazily, he kissed her back and realized he didn’t want her to ever let go.

  Nineteen

  She hadn’t understood before why any woman would let a man touch her. Why any woman would consent to marriage if it meant allowing a man to do what Withernsea had done to her.

  She understood now. She turned to look at Jasper, who lay beside her, chest heaving and eyes closed, and she felt a rush of tenderness. He’d been so gentle, so caring, so intent upon her pleasure. Nothing had been rushed or forced or taken. They’d both given freely and taken only what was offered.

  “I love you,” she murmured, reaching out to touch his lips. They curved in a half smile.

  “That good, was it?” he said, eyes still closed.

  “No.”

  His eyes opened.

  “I mean, yes, but that’s not why I love you.”

  “I know. And I know you wanted to forget all about what happened tonight, but do you feel safe enough to talk about it yet?”

  She buried her face in his chest, feeling his rough hair brush her cheek and inhaling his familiar scent. He hadn’t told her he loved her back. Surely he did love her back. But he was correct that they had more pressing matters. “He asked me to dance,” she said, looking up at Jasper. “Withernsea. My father had stepped away for a moment, and Withernsea asked me to dance. I told him no, and he became angry. He threatened to ruin my father for breaking the betrothal agreement. I don’t understand, Jasper. Why doesn’t he marry another woman? Why does he want me so much?”

  Jasper rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I’ve known men like Withernsea. I’ve watched them, studied them. Withernsea doesn’t want you. He wants what he’s been told he cannot have. You defied him. You made him look like a fool, and now it’s a matter of pride with him. He’ll have you because he must show the world that no one is out of his reach.”