A Counterfeit Courtesan

by Jess Michaels

  She collapsed back on the pillows with a gasping cry. He stroked her a few more times and she twitched. Her breath came short, her legs shaking, her body quaking. She almost didn’t notice when he kissed her gently, this time with closed lips. Almost wasn’t coherent enough to recognize as he crawled up the length of her body and pressed a more heated kiss on her mouth. She tasted her release there, salty and sweet, and her body jerked once more.

  He smiled down at her and she braced herself for what would come next. The claiming, one she didn’t fear now that she was humming with release. But he didn’t remove a stitch of clothing. He didn’t move to take her.

  She blinked up at him as he continued to smooth tangled locks away from her face.

  “When will you…when will you…” She trailed off as he flinched and shook his head. In that moment, she felt him pull away, and her heart sank as he got to his feet and backed up from the bed. He continued to look down at her, his expression one of longing and regret. Perhaps a bit of pity.

  The pity was what broke her.

  Her hands shook as she gathered a handful of silky sheet and tucked it around herself, covering her body so that she was no longer as physically exposed as she was emotionally. She drew a few breaths, trying to remain calm, trying to remain cool.

  But her voice was shaking as she asked, “You aren’t going to take me, are you?”

  Ellis heard the rejection in Juliana’s voice as she asked the question. Heard the pain and embarrassment. He looked down at her, temptation embodied lying on those silken sheets, her blonde hair tangled around her shoulders, her body ready for more, her cheeks pink from pleasure, darkening the scar that marred her flesh.

  And she thought he didn’t want her. He had never wanted any woman more in his life.

  “I won’t ruin you,” he corrected, hoping that the distinction helped her. It didn’t help him, because he wanted nothing more than to strip out of his trousers and delve deeply within her, to forget everything but the pulse of her around his cock for a while.

  But that was a pleasure he hadn’t earned and never would. Not after the filth of his life.

  She gritted her teeth, and there was no denying her frustration as she glared at him. It lined her once-relaxed face and brightened her green eyes. “I already told you, Ellis, I want it all.”

  He shook his head. Christ, she would kill him at this rate, because she had no idea what those words did to him. He was trying not to be an utter bastard, and that was difficult enough. It went against everything he’d been doing these past few years, both for survival and pleasure. He was fighting his nature with all his might, then she whispered about need and desire and stared at him when he still had her taste on his lips?

  He let out a long sigh and perched on the edge of the bed. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, reveling in the softness of her skin against his rough fingers. “No,” he said. “You don’t, angel.”

  “Ellis—” she began, her determination written in the wrinkle in her forehead, in the strength in her tone as she readied herself to launch into an argument.

  One she might win if he let her.

  “You feel lost right now,” he interrupted, and watched all the color exit her cheeks. “And I understand that…more than most. But you don’t want to make any rash decisions.”

  She’d been clutching the sheet around her breasts, but now she folded her arms across them instead. The sheet slipped a fraction, revealing the hint of curves he’d already worshipped. How he wanted to touch them all over again. He’d never stop if he did. He would do exactly what she thought she wanted and they would both regret it. But the moment of surrender?

  Fuck, but that would be sweet.

  “Says the king of rash decisions,” she grumbled.

  He couldn’t help the smile that curved the corner of his lips. She was a spitfire. Accustomed to managing every outcome, used to knowing what was best for everyone, even if they didn’t. She marched through life with certainty and he was so drawn to that, it was scary. Not only was this remarkable woman out of his sphere, but he was about to sacrifice himself. There was no going back once he did that, one way or another. He couldn’t give in. He had the memories of what they’d shared, and that had to be the end of it. For both their sakes.

  “You don’t want to be like me,” he said.

  “No, I want to be with you,” she insisted.

  He groaned as he got to his feet. “I’m trying to be a better man, Juliana. Help me out.”

  “If I wanted a better man, as you put it, I wouldn’t have come here,” she huffed.

  Ellis had been practiced in controlling his reactions over the years. He never allowed anyone to see his true feelings unless that was what he wanted. Unless those feelings drew him closer to a goal.

  But right now it was an effort not to flinch at that barb, thrown in anger. Still he managed it and turned back to her with a practiced smile.

  “Then you got what you came for,” he said. “In more ways than one. I would suggest you be happy with it and let go of this notion of endangering yourself for pleasure.”

  Her bottom lip trembled slightly, and she bit it to stop the motion. He fought a groan because damned if he didn’t want to bite that pretty little lip himself. Instead, he reached down to grab her wrinkled dress from its forgotten pile on the floor. He held it out to her. “Get dressed, Juliana. I’ll take you home.”

  She slithered down off the bed, struggling to keep the sheet around her as if he hadn’t just worshipped every inch of that amazing body, and snatched the gown from his hand.

  “Fine,” she ground out. Suddenly she sounded like the haughtiest of ladies of the manor, upset at the lack of performance of a servant. Not the worst comparison, actually. “If you insist on being difficult about this, I refuse to argue. Please turn around.”

  He arched a brow at the modesty. “A bit late for that, isn’t it?”

  She pursed her lips. “You don’t want it, so you don’t get to see it. Turn around.” She swallowed hard. “Please.”

  He did what she asked, mostly because he recognized that it wasn’t her body she didn’t want him to see—it was her vulnerability. In her mind, he had rejected her. It was better that way, no matter how wrong she was.

  Because all he was capable of doing was compromising her. And tonight was a glorious, blazing, erotic mistake he had to ensure was never repeated. The first step to that was to stop thinking of all the ways to put her on her back.

  If that was possible.

  Juliana leaned forward, trying to stay as far away from the warm hands that were buttoning her gown. It was to no avail. Ellis brushed her skin with his fingertips every time he fastened her and her entire treacherous body lit on fire when he did it.

  She stepped away from him when she was covered, wishing her hands weren’t shaking quite so obviously, and pivoted. He was staring at her with a tight smile. It wasn’t real, that was obvious. Nothing about the way he was looking at her was real now. This was all the act, all the show that was Handsome Ellis Maitland, seducer of women and expert player of the game.

  She hated to think she’d been just another piece on his chessboard tonight. But then, perhaps she hadn’t been. After all, he had pleasured her, given her what she wanted…almost. And hadn’t taken anything in return.

  “And what thought is creeping through that pretty head of yours?” he asked as she picked up pins from the floor around them and carelessly fixed her hair.

  She shrugged. “I’m only trying to determine what part of you is the real man and what part of you is the act.”

  He stilled and the expression in his eyes darkened. He bent his head. “If I ever figure that out, I’ll be certain you are the first to know. Now come. This room will be required by others and it’s late.”

  He held out a hand as he spoke, and she stared at it. Those lean, strong fingers had moved over her body so intimately. They had traced every curve of her, coaxed pleasure from her unlike anything she’d
ever experienced.

  She blushed as she took the offered hand and let him lead her from the chamber where she had been forever changed, even if it wasn’t in the way she had wished to be. He said nothing as he guided her down the dim hallway toward the larger, brighter main hall. Already the laughter from the bigger room echoed toward them. Mixed with moans.

  She understood the moans a great deal more now, and her body twitched with reaction.

  Damn him for half-waking this thing inside of her. It was almost worse than knowing those desires were there sleeping but being unaware of how to fully unlock them. Perhaps if she said the right thing…perhaps then he would understand and do the rest.

  She stopped as they reached the end of the hall and tugged on his hand. “Ellis.”

  He stopped. His back was still toward her and she watched him drag in a long breath before he faced her. The brighter light behind him outlined his broad-shouldered body but partly obscured his handsome face. A perfect metaphor for the man of shadow and light that he was.

  “Yes?” he whispered, and she heard the strain in his voice.

  She recognized that he still longed for the same thing she did. That he was holding back, perhaps out of some twisted sense of honor that a thief might not typically exhibit. And that meant there was a chance for her, for them.

  She swallowed, uncertain how to proceed. She hadn’t exactly seduced a man before. Certainly not one with so much experience in the world and in the bedroom as Ellis Maitland.

  She searched for the words, but before she could find them, she caught a glimpse of a man in the crowd just past Ellis’s shoulder. Her lips parted at the profile of him. A profile she’d seen before, studied even though she hadn’t wanted to do so.

  Winston Leonard. The man who had kidnapped her thinking she was her sister just a few weeks prior. He had terrorized her, then slashed her face in the struggle that ensued. He was the one who had shot Ellis in the shoulder.

  But that couldn’t be right. The bastard had been hiding since the attack. She was seeing things, that was all. Brought on by the intensity of her feelings tonight. By the fear that still haunted her dreams.

  As if he sensed someone’s eyes on him, the man turned his head. He scanned the room, then glanced toward her. God, did he see her? No, it didn’t seem so. They were in the darkness of the hall, which protected them from his seeking gaze. But she knew then that she wasn’t dreaming. She wasn’t wrong.

  “Ellis,” she hissed, clinging to his hand tighter.

  His expression softened, filling with concern. “What is it?”

  She struggled for breath. “It’s…it’s…it’s him! It’s Winston Leonard.”

  Chapter 9

  Ellis pivoted and dragged Juliana behind him as he looked through the crowd for his quarry. The one he had been distracted from finding thanks to the woman shaking behind him, clinging to his hand so hard that her nails pressed into the skin.

  He was almost ready to dismiss her words as imaginings brought on by the strain of the past few weeks when his own gaze found Winston Leonard in the crowd. Everything slowed to half-time when he did and the boisterous sounds of the room around them faded.

  Leonard was an unassuming figure. He was of average height, average build, had a soft jawline and watery gray eyes. If one didn’t know what a threat he was, if one didn’t know to be afraid of him, well…that made him all the more dangerous.

  And yet his reputation had been made through a great many misadventures so that even here, in this den of debauchery, those around Leonard gave him a wide berth and whispered as he passed by.

  Rage boiled up in Ellis’s chest. That was yet another emotion that he had learned to control in his life, but now it threatened to overtake him. This man, this bastard he had been fool enough to involve himself with, had destroyed so much that mattered.

  He had killed Ellis’s friend, the Earl of Harcourt’s brother Solomon. He had threatened Ellis’s half-brother and his cousin, the only people he truly loved. He wanted nothing more than to cross the room in a few strides and kill the man right here and now. His promise to Marcus Rivers be damned.

  “Ellis.”

  He jerked at Juliana’s small voice behind him. In his rage, he’d all but forgotten she was right there with him. Her face was turned toward his, tears filling her eyes and brightening the green to an emerald color. His eyes flitted to her scar, which had been brightened by the fact that the color had drained from her cheeks. Leonard had done that too and the fear that lit in her now, extinguishing all other brightness, was palpable.

  He returned his gaze to Leonard and found the man had turned. He faced the hallway firmly now, and it was clear he could see Ellis. Their stares met, and Leonard tilted his head to one side with a big grin.

  “It’s him,” Juliana whispered.

  She was peeking around him now, her eyes as locked on Leonard as his were. Ellis looked back just in time to see the man slipping through the crowd.

  “Damn it,” he grunted, and lunged forward a step. He had to follow him. He had to finish this, because now that Leonard knew he’d been spotted, he might go underground again.

  Or worse, he might move on those Ellis loved.

  But Juliana’s hand was still locked in his. If he followed Leonard, he endangered her. Again. So he stopped and huffed out his breath.

  “Ellis,” she repeated.

  “I know,” he snapped, perhaps more harshly than he meant. She flinched and pulled her hand away, lifting it to her chest as she stared up at him. He shook his head slowly before he repeated, “I know. At least you’re wearing your mask. But this is all the more reason to get you out of here. Did you come in your own vehicle?”

  She shook her head. “A hack.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to lecture her about the dangers of such a thing. “Come on.”

  He guided her through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Leonard, but there was no sign of him as they exited the building. He motioned for his carriage, and in a few moments they were safely inside with his driver heading to Juliana’s father’s home across town.

  Juliana was silent as she looked out the windows into the inky darkness, but he could read her reaction like a book. She was trembling, her hands clenched in her lap.

  It was fear. No, not just fear. Terror.

  His own frustrations at not being able to pursue Leonard faded, and he leaned forward in his seat and caught her hand. “Juliana.”

  She didn’t respond or even seem to recognize he had touched her.

  “Juliana,” he repeated, this time sharper.

  She jolted from her distracted state and glanced at him. “Yes?”

  He hated to see her fear. Hated that his actions had been the root cause of that fear. She never would have become involved with someone like Winston Leonard were Ellis not such a fool.

  “He can’t hurt you, angel,” he said. Hoped it would be the truth. Knew he had to make it the truth no matter the cost to himself. “He won’t hurt you,” he corrected. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  She nodded slowly, then her hand lifted up. She tugged her mask off and slid her fingertips across her scar. He tracked the movement and felt an answering sting in the injury on his shoulder. The marks of war. A woman like her never should have received one.

  “But he did hurt me,” she whispered. “Seeing him brought it all back, like I was right there again.”

  Ellis shifted. He knew that feeling. Too well. How a smell or a look or a sound could jerk a person to the worst moments of their life. How a memory could flash through the mind and feel as real as the moment that had first created it.

  “Do you…do you want to talk to me about it?” he asked. “Would it…help?”

  She worried her hands together in her lap. “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken of it much, truth be told. My sisters both get so upset when the topic comes up, as they feel responsible for that day, as do Harcourt and Rook. My maid clucks her tongue and tells me it’s bette
r not to think about it.”

  “But you still do think about it,” Ellis said, smoothing his thumb across the top of her hand.

  She nodded and blinked at the tears that sprung to her eyes. “I do.”

  He drew in a long breath. Here he’d been telling himself all night that he needed to separate from this woman. That backing away was his best way to protect her, to protect himself. That was still true. But in this moment, it was also impossible.

  “It’s my fault he found you that day,” he said softly. When she sat up straighter and made to argue, he lifted a hand to silence her. “I brought him into your life. You and your family never would have gotten near him but for my actions. My failings. It only seems fair that I hear what you need to say, Juliana. So say it if it would help. I’ll take it.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. This woman had been willing to share her body with him, but to share her heart? Her mind? Her past? He could see she was trying to decide if he was good enough to do those things.

  And he found himself longing for them even more than he had longed to bury himself in her not so long ago.

  At last she let out her breath in a shuddering sigh. “Anne and I were looking for Rook,” she said softly, her voice strained and cracked. “She was desperate to find him. I knew she loved him then, more than she had even admitted. And I feared for her to love a man like that. I didn’t know him at that moment, of course. Just what he seemed to be.”

  Ellis flinched. Rook, had been his partner in crime once. They’d run the streets together for years before his bad behavior had pushed his cousin away. He was happy for him now, to be settled with a woman who loved him as fiercely as Anne seemed to do. For him to be out of the life for good. Not many got out alive.

  But Rook was the better of the two of them. And if Juliana had hesitated about him, Ellis knew what that meant in the long run when it came to how she felt about him.