Fatima stood there, small of stature, but fierce and angry. Julia had learned very quickly not to let the woman’s diminutive height fool her into seeing her as harmless. She was a tigress, willing to fight as dirty and viciously as required to hold her place in the world.
“You pasty whore infidel! I knew he sought you once more.”
Julia sought a calm she simply did not possess at the moment, but she did not wish for more of a scene than the outraged woman had already caused. The two other women in the shop were furiously staring at whatever fabric they held, as opposed to staring at her and the stranger in foreign robes.
“He came to see me, but I told him the same as I did before I left. No.”
“You lie! He sent you away because he was angry. His ire has been forgotten, and now he has come to bring you back.”
The other woman’s dark eyes snapped with her fury—and fear, if Julia was not mistaken.
Taking a deep breath, Julia pushed a loose strand of hair off her forehead. “I do not lie. I left when he asked me to marry him, and I told him I would never be accepted by his people. I could not be a good wife to him, as you would be.”
Fatima’s grip on her arm loosened, though it did not fall completely away. “Why do you not want him? No other man can compare.”
Julia resisted the urge to snort. It was not hard to fathom how Tariq’s ego had become disproportionately large, between his natural handsomeness and his birthright. With the women who surrounded him and fawned over him, it was unlikely he would remain unaffected by such excessive adoration.
“Maybe for you. But for me, there has always been another who held that special place in my heart.”
The other woman’s kohl-lined eyes widened in surprise. “You never loved him?”
She shook her head. There was really no need to elaborate further.
Fatima sighed. “I do not understand you, but it seems I understand Tariq even less.”
With the fear drained from her, she released Julia’s arm entirely as her shoulders sagged.
“Whether he knows it or not, he has always cared for you a great deal.”
Jules could remember sitting with him at meals as he watched the beautiful, doe-eyed woman dance.
“I am, how do you say? Common to him?”
“Ah, you mean too familiar.” Julia nodded. “Possibly even too eager to please him. I believe that was one of the things that made me so alluring. I was elusive for him.”
“Elusive?”
The foreign word did not roll nicely off Fatima’s tongue.
“Yes, unavailable. He had to chase me. I was a challenge.” She tapped her lower lip as an idea sprang to life. “Fatima, perhaps we can help each other?”
Suspicion glinted in her dark gaze. “And why would you wish to help me?”
Julia smiled. “Because by helping you, I help myself. If Tariq finds you more of a challenge, then he will divert his attention back to you, where it belongs. And I can also rid myself of one of my current problems.”
By making her assistance sound self-serving, Fatima would be more accepting of the help. In her world, nothing was done for purely unselfish reasons.
The wary woman nodded. “How will this work?”
“We are going to turn you into a properly dressed English woman. I assume you have access to any funds you may require?”
“Of course. My husband is a generous man.”
Julia remembered how Tariq had tended to lavish gifts on a woman in lieu of discussing his feelings.
With their arms interlinked—she couldn’t risk Fatima changing her mind—Julia turned an eye toward finding just the right fabric to complement the other woman’s olive skin tone. Something bright and eye-catching was the order of the day. The culturally restricted woman would likely never wear it outside of her residence, anyway, so there was no such thing as too bold a color choice.
Madame Le Fleur appeared from the rear of the shop and nodded to the two women who were still shopping before she approached Julia. The shop owner’s fake French accent cut through the remaining tension between the women. “Lady Wallthorpe, are you ready for your appointment?”
“Indeed, I am, but we may need a bit more time than originally planned. May I introduce Shaykhah Fatima Hassan? She is the head wife of Sheikh Tariq Hassan.”
Madame Le Fleur looked briefly speculative, and then very pleased by this development. “Oui, welcome to my shop.”
Fatima nodded, but said nothing. Obviously still wary, she slowly followed the two other women into the back room.
Madame glanced from one woman to the other as they settled on the settee in her showroom. “Now, how may I help you, ladies?”
Julia settled her skirts and smiled. “I need to add a few gowns to my wardrobe. I have been unexpectedly attending more social functions, and am finding my selections too sparse. And then we need to outfit Shaykhah Hassan with one or two gowns of the latest fashion. I’m thinking a day dress and a ball gown. Something modern, yet sensitive of her culture’s expectations for a woman.”
“No,” Fatima interrupted. “I want what any infi—” She stopped and cleared her throat. “I want what any London woman would wear. He must see me as he sees you.”
She spoke firmly, and decisively.
“Well, then, you heard the Shaykhah. Nothing less than the most modern fashions for us both.”
Julia smiled and wished she would have the chance to see Tariq’s face when his first wife transformed herself into a London lady.
They spent the next few hours discussing dress design, fabric, and men. Along the way, Julia made sure to offer carefully couched advice on how to draw Tariq’s attention. Of course, Fatima knew what to do once she had it. While demure and modest in appearance, Julia had lived around the women of Tariq’s tribe long enough to know they had the amorous arts well in hand.
As she and Fatima left the shop much later in the day, the other woman turned to her. “I do not understand you.” The woman hesitated, not unsure but maybe more uncomfortable. “Why you would wish to help me with Tariq, but I am grateful for your assistance.”
“I hope that we can be friends. My time with Tariq was a period of healing and growth for me. It was something I needed, and I am thankful every day for what he did for me. For what your people did for me. I could never repay that kindness in full, but maybe this is one small way I can try.” Julia grinned. “I also really wish I could be there the first time he sees you in that ball gown. The deep red is a stunning shade on you. He will be transfixed, I assure you.”
Fatima smiled. “It is possible you will get your wish.”
Then they embraced and parted ways. Julia hoped that she had given Tariq both a bit of happiness, and something of a challenge. Because Lord knew, the man did not usually like the easy path. With a pleased sigh, she headed home. After all, she was to attend a masked ball tonight, and she suspected her escort had nefarious plans.
Wonderfully naughty nefarious plans.
Chapter 20
The Crystal Palace glittered like a diamond on black velvet. The evening's outing required two carriages to carry everyone, but all of Wolf's friends and their wives had been excited for the event. A masquerade ball at The Crystal Place was not one to be missed, particularly when it was rumored to be hosted by a secret guild of courtesans.
Jules looked stunning in her violet gown and matching mask. The purple made her red hair and golden skin glow in the gaslight.
He grinned and contemplated the adventures that would soon find them. "Come, my fair maiden. A magical evening awaits you."
Julia laughed as she swept from the carriage. "And are you my knight in shining armor?"
With his blood thrumming through his veins, desire bubbled just under his skin, making him feel as though caterpillars crept all over his body. "It may be a bit tarnished, but I would don armor for you nonetheless." He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Of course the magic really happens when we discard the armor altogethe
r."
"Indeed, my lord, I suspect far more is accomplished when men set aside their armor. After all, I've never made a very good damsel in distress." She reached down and caressed the paltry fabric that covered his now partially erect shaft. "I've always been more of a welcoming widow, happy to assuage a man's more lusty needs."
"Your practical nature has always been one of my favorite things about you. Now keep your hands to yourself lest we scandalize even the most bawdy of London's populace." He grabbed her hand and dragged it from his aching cock so he could both place a kiss on her palm and help his need settle down. It would likely be hours until he could have his fill of this woman who drove him mad with desire.
Ros, Theo, and Emily swept Jules into their little group to wend their way through the garden paths leading up to the building. Stone, Cooper, and Arthur walked behind, discussing something quietly while keeping an eagle eye on the ladies. Wolf strolled with Flint and Linc.
“Are you boys enjoying the tightening noose of possible matrimony?” Linc asked with a cheeky grin.
Flint shot him a dark look, his shoulders set in a rigid line. “You know very well that Ros will release me as planned, once Wallthorpe is dealt with.”
“Do I?” Linc let one brow rise in question. “I see the way she looks at you. The woman is completely taken with you.”
A burst of laughter from the women had all of the men looking to the head of the group, until Theo shushed them after casting a wary glance backward.
Wolf had also begun to worry that Ros was a bit more caught up in the fake engagement with Flint than was wise. His violent tendencies would be a worrisome prospect for any well-bred woman. But marrying a rougher sort of female wasn’t an option, not even for Flint.
“If she won’t do it willingly, I’ll give her a reason to hate me before the charade ends. You know I shall never marry.” Flint sounded almost as though he was angry about the whole situation.
“Hopefully we can resolve the question of why Wallthorpe is so determined to have Jules before then. I haven’t heard anything from the private man of inquiry I hired. But he is the man Stone and Cooper have both utilized, so I expect something soon enough.”
Julia had little to hide beyond some lurid details about her life between her marriage and her reappearance in London. Slowly she’d been sharing it with him. The hardest to hear had been the truth of her marriage. It still made Wolf want to kill the man. Too bad he was already dead.
Arthur dropped back to join them. “Those two married types are deadly boring. All they can talk about is how the markets are doing, their investments, and their babies.” Emily’s brother shuddered.
Linc laughed and slapped Arthur on the back. “Those two have always been sticks-in-the-mud. The real fun lies back here, with us.”
“I hope there will be dancing partners aplenty at this shindig,” Arthur replied with a grin and a waggle of his brows.
Linc’s eyes glittered with mischief in the light of the torchlit path. “The doves will be ours for the plucking, my friend.”
Wolf and Flint looked at each other and groaned. Those two were still high on the bachelor life. When their time came, they would learn that one good woman far outweighed having many passable women in their lives. In the meantime, Wolf supposed there was nothing wrong with them living it up. As long as Arthur continued on the straight and narrow, Cooper and Emily would remain content. And well, Theo and Stone appeared to be living in a dream where he was the master of his castle…and likely his woman, though none of the Lustful Lords would deign to speculate on their private life.
A squeal of excitement burbled through the ladies as they neared the glass monstrosity that contained their evening entertainment. For once, this would be a ball worth attending. Without all the stiff formality of the ton’s usual entertainments, tonight should prove to be a rollicking good time for everyone. As the path opened up to a large graveled area before the entrance to the building, Wolf nodded at his friends. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”
“Dear God, another one among us has fallen prey to the desires of a woman.”
Linc had a flair for the dramatic, one that Wolf mostly appreciated, but not so much in the moment.
With a snort, he moved forward to claim the arm of Jules, because there was no possibility he could stand by and allow another man to mistakenly believe she was unescorted. Cooper, Stone, and Flint also claimed their ladies, leaving Linc and Arthur to trail behind.
Inside the illuminated bubble, the musicians were warming up as the crowd milled about. Jules grinned at him from behind her half mask, but refrained from speaking, considering the volume of the din around them.
Finally, they found a corner for the group to claim, and they settled in for an evening of revelry and bacchanalian delights.
A few hours later, as the crowd found themselves generally deeper in their cups, Wolf wished he could steal Jules away. Unwilling to strand part of their group by leaving, he decided to lure his feisty redhead into the gardens for a quick tryst. As she returned to his side once more, her dance partner bowing gallantly, Wolf tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.
“Come along with me, mistress. I can show you even more delights beyond the glare of The Crystal Palace.”
She grinned and then batted her lashes ever so innocently. “Whatever can you mean, kind sir?”
“Ah!” He knew she’d be a game one. “There are magical things beyond the glow of the lights. Come with me, my pretty, and let me show you paradise.”
She worried her lip and truly hesitated for a moment. “Wolf?” Her voice grew serious. “I’ve heard it can be dangerous in the gardens. Are you sure this is wise?”
He released her hand and turned to face her. Cupping her cheek and mask in one hand, and resting his other on her waist, he looked deep into her eyes. “I would protect you with my dying breath before I let anything bad happen to you again. Haven’t you realized that by now?”
Something dangerous—something that looked suspiciously like love—sparkled in her green gaze. “Yes. That’s what scares me.”
The noise of the ball, the music, the dancers, and the conversation that ebbed and flowed around them all faded into silence as his heart ceased to beat. Their gazes locked as the unspoken words hung there between them, like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked.
And then someone bumped into him, and the moment was lost as the chaos around them swept back in, like the tide crashing against the shore.
Worried he’d scare her with a declaration then and there, he opted to send them rushing headlong back down the path to pleasure. He tucked her hand in place and urged her forward. “Then come with me to experience the delights that await us in the garden.”
And with a wicked smile, he drew her away from the crowd, where he could relish her touch, her beauty, and the pleasures of her flesh in relative privacy.
With the tension dissipated, she fell back into his game, her lusty side coming out to play. They strolled along a busy path until they found a branch that led them off into one of the darker corners of the grounds. Then Wolf discovered a stone balustrade that carved a kind of overlook. With a torch nearby to offer some small bit of light, he pressed her against the stone rail.
In the dull glow of the light, her creamy flesh beckoned him to caress her softness. With a single finger, he traced the delicate curve of her collarbones from one side to the other, and she shivered under his touch. Need that had simmered all night began to boil over. His cock hardened and his desire flared. He leaned over her and pressed his lips to the swell of her breasts just above her neckline, savoring the sweetness of her skin. Hungry for more, he tugged down on her bodice until her breasts rode up, freeing a nipple. Eagerly he sucked the puckered tip, relishing her moan as she dug her fingers into his hair.
As he worried the point with his lips and teeth, he eased his hands down to slowly gather her skirts. Then her hands were working with his, as together they wrangled her unwieldy gown until he found smoo
th skin above the knee. He stroked her leg higher, and shockingly found nothing but more bared skin.
Releasing her nipple, he sought her gaze. “My lady, I believe you have misplaced your knickers.”
“No, I don’t believe I have misplaced them in the slightest. They are right where they belong. At home. In my drawer.”
She offered him a wicked smile, and then reached up with one hand to pull him down into a kiss. She explored his tongue and mouth as though staking a claim, one his cock eagerly accepted.
Concern for her missing clothing vanished as he gave in to the lust that flooded his veins and reached between her thighs to find her core soaked with her own need. Slipping two fingers deep inside her, he absorbed the heat that surrounded him. She was on fire, a living flame in his arms, and he was ready to be consumed.
He pumped his fingers in and out of her, adding a third, and resumed his steady pace. She moaned and ground against his hand. A tremor raced through her body, one that he felt all the way to his bones. Watching her delicate features in the dim light as pleasure chased across her face had his shaft growing longer and harder. He ached to feel her wrapped around him, but his release would wait. She deserved every ounce of bliss he could offer up in this moment.
In any moment.
“Yes, Wolf. Don’t stop.” Her hips bucked, grinding her clit against the heel of his hand as he braced her with his body.
Her climax was close. He could tell by the jerky, uncoordinated motions of her body and the stiffness in her limbs as she struggled to let go. Determined to help her along, he leaned in to her and demanded, “Come for me, Jules. Come now.”
And then he slipped a finger out of her clenching heat and stroked over her swollen clit. She lit up for him, her orgasm arriving in one great rush. Shoving her face into his chest to muffle her cries of passion, he worked her slick flesh until her body gripped his fingers in a vise that pulsed in time with the throb of his erection. As the pulsing slowed, she returned to the present under his gentle caress, even as he worked to keep her desire alive. He needed to feel her wrapped around his cock soon, or he might explode himself. Withdrawing his fingers from her core, he reached for the opening of his trousers, when he suddenly found himself flat on his arse, with a ringing in his ears he could only attribute to the sudden pounding in his head.
His Scandalous Viscountess (Lustful Lords Series Book 3) Page 15
