The Secrets He Keeps: A Peril & Persuasion Novella

by Amy Sandas

  Chapter Five

  Erik stood by the window of the private sitting room on the third floor of his club. A morning snowfall had caused the roads of London to become a slushy mess. But tonight was Christmas Eve and not even poor weather or wretched road conditions would keep people from attending their many soirées and dinner parties. The steady stream of carriages passing back and forth on the street below certainly attested to that fact. It was an evening devoted to intimate gatherings of family and friends to acknowledge and celebrate the holiday.

  Tomorrow would bring long church services and family luncheons. Tonight was for revelry.

  Turning his back on the scene, he crossed the room to the fireplace, where he added a couple more logs to keep the winter chill at bay. Standing there, he watched as the flames danced higher and sent a wave of heat and light into the room. He was not used to such cold weather. Though he’d traveled a great deal in his life, he had rarely been so far to the north during the colder months.

  Despite how he often felt it, it appeared he wasn’t too old for new experiences after all.

  As his association with Madam Pendragon had also proven.

  The woman was getting to him with her jaded green eyes, armored manner, and quick, sardonic wit. Though she was obviously determined to keep him at a distance, he reveled in those moments when her guard came down. When her full lips smiled in genuine pleasure and her eyes lit from within. She was proving to be as difficult to seduce as she’d declared herself to be. Difficult but not impossible.

  Because Erik had seen desire sparking in the depths of her gaze. He’d felt the barely perceptible trembling of her fingers when he took her hand in his. The attraction he experienced for the enigmatic woman was not one-sided, but she was no novice to lust and she had her reasons for resisting her desire for him.

  She didn’t trust him and Erik couldn’t blame her. The life she’d lived was a hard one. To achieve the degree of success she had would have taken complete and total devotion. Not for the faint of heart.

  A woman like her would not fall for a false seduction. But there had been nothing deceitful or contrived in Erik’s pursuit. He wanted her in every way. More than he’d ever wanted a woman before. There had been no lie present when he’d declared his interest in all of her. He never would have offered to seduce her if he hadn’t already known in his soul that something more was supposed to exist between them.

  But he’d never convince her to give their undeniable attraction a chance to expand into something deeper and more fulfilling if she didn’t believe such even existed.

  The staccato knock of his butler sounded on the door.

  Erik gave a call to enter but did not turn away from the fire.

  “You have a visitor, sir.”

  Turning his head, Erik watched as the woman who had been occupying his every thought lately sauntered into the room. Days ago, he’d advised his butler that unless he was with a client, he would be available to her at any time of the day or night and that she should be shown to his private quarters immediately if she called.

  Even so, her appearance tonight was unexpected.

  As the butler bowed from the room, closing the door securely as he did so, Erik turned his back to the fire so he could watch her approach.

  Damn, but the woman made an exceptional entrance. Dressed tonight in a black satin gown that bared her shoulders and lush cleavage while accenting every lovely curve of her body, she was the archetypal seductress. Sinuous and strong, deeply sensual and utterly self-controlled. Erik was so bewitched by the liquid movement of her hips it took him a moment to see that she carried a bottle of brandy in her hand.

  Anticipation rushed through him as he lifted his attention to the woman’s face.

  Green eyes reflected the dance of the flames behind him and lush red lips curved enticingly. After the way their night at the theater had ended, he wasn’t sure if she’d continue meeting with him.

  He should have expected to be surprised by this woman. She had come to him.

  “Madam,” he said as she reached him before the fireplace. “This is unanticipated.”

  Fine brows arched. “It shouldn’t be.” She lifted the bottle of brandy. “You couldn’t have thought I’d enjoy this rare and very expensive bottle of brandy all by myself.”

  “I had thought you might enjoy savoring it in your quieter hours.”

  She gave a graceful shrug of her bare shoulders. “Some things are for savoring. Others are for enjoying with full, unadulterated gusto.”

  “And this brandy falls into the second category?”

  “It does tonight.”

  “I’ll get the glasses.”

  Erik crossed to a sideboard to collect two snifters, and when he turned back to face his guest, it was to see that despite the comfortable sofa and chairs positioned nearby, she had chosen instead to recline on the thick ivory-colored rug spread before the stone-carved hearth. Leaning to the side, she propped herself on one hand as the skirts of her black gown fanned about her legs, reflecting the light from the fire.

  When she turned to look over her shoulder at his approach, there was a challenge in her bright, clever gaze, but also a hint of something he hadn’t previously detected in the woman. A quiet, subtle sadness that spoke directly to the loneliness within himself.

  Lowering himself to his knees, Erik sat back on his heels as he set the two glasses on the stone hearth. In a silent gesture, he extended his hand for the bottle, which she promptly handed off to him. After opening and pouring, he set the bottle aside and offered a snifter to the lady, who immediately lifted it in a toast.

  “To cold winter nights and fine liquor.”

  “And even finer company,” he added.

  Her smile was fleeting as she lifted the glass and nearly drained it in one swallow.

  Erik followed suit, then topped them off with another pour before settling into a more comfortable position. Then he turned his openly assessing focus on his unexpected companion while she directed her gaze toward the fire. She had to sense his blatant perusal but it did not appear to discomfit her in the slightest, and he was glad of that since it was not his intention to distress her. He simply found himself too fully intrigued by her to try to conceal his curiosity.

  Curiosity and longing.

  He couldn’t deny that part. It was inseparable from his increasing feelings for her.

  No doubt, she was very accustomed to men staring so keenly, though he suddenly hated the thought of being just one among likely countless admirers.

  With a tilt of her head that was both haughty and coy, she slid a glance in his direction. “I assume since I was shown up here so directly, my visit did not interrupt anything important you might have been tending to.”

  Erik chuckled. “Not unless you count the silent cursing of winter weather to be important.”

  She made a rough sound of disgust as she lifted her glass for a drink. “I abhor this time of year.”

  “That is a strong statement.”

  “But a true one. Everyone bustles about promoting this ridiculous façade of good cheer and a generous spirit, when any other time of year, they are selfishly devoted to personal pleasures and hedonism. It’s all so bloody false. And wretchedly dull.”

  “I take that to mean you do not celebrate the Christmas holiday.”

  “Only as I must. Christmas is best enjoyed by children and the faithful. I am neither.”

  “But you do have plans for tomorrow?”

  She sighed and turned back to the flames. “My brother is insisting I join him and his family for a holiday dinner. He’s being rather stubborn about it actually. Very annoying.”

  “Dinner does not appeal to you?”

  She finished the amber liquor in her glass before reaching for the bottle to replace it. “Dinner is fine. I’m simply dreading everything that goes with it. Family is not my forte.”

  “They’re a bunch of arseholes?” he prompted in a dry tone.

  Her laugh
was short but rich and real. “Oh, my brother is definitely an arsehole. But a tolerable one most of the time. His life has undergone some drastic changes recently. Good changes, I suppose, but they’ve prompted this unprecedented attempt at creating some sort of holiday tradition.”

  “There is nothing inherently terrible about tradition. Not when you understand that tradition is what you make it.”

  She slid him a skeptical glance. “Is that so?”

  Erik swirled his brandy as he thought back to the pleasures of his childhood. “My troupe was made up of people from all over the world. We all brought our own beliefs and faiths with us. We found a way to blend these things into new traditions we shared together. Growing up with such freedom and non-judgement showed me how people from differing backgrounds and experiences can come together if they simply prioritize compassion and mutual respect.”

  She studied him silently from beneath the heavy sweep of her lashes. Erik remained still under her perusal as he stared intently back at her. The intelligence and bright calculation he admired so genuinely were ever present in her green gaze but there was a softening there as well, though it could simply be attributed to the brandy.

  The woman was intimidating, to be sure. Self-assured and independent in ways many women were not. Clever, passionate, distrustful, arrogant, and mysterious. It was a singular experience to attempt the seduction of a woman who refused to let you know where you stood. Though he sensed her attraction to him and was delighted she’d chosen to come to him tonight, he knew better than to assume either of those things meant anything in regard to whether or not he would be successful in his endeavor.

  She was too cynical and far too unpredictable.

  But he was becoming more and more determined to know her. Not Madam Pendragon, who ruled London’s world of sexual delights and pleasures untold. Erik wished to know the girl who’d left home young to claim sovereignty over herself and her future. The young woman who’d dreamed of having it all and having it all under her dominion.

  With a depth and intensity that surprised him, he wanted the woman seated before him to find him worthy of not only her intimate time but also her most secret thoughts and unspoken dreams for the future. He was not a man to do anything half-measure and he’d known almost from the very start that he wanted this woman for everything she was, including those elements she carefully kept hidden from the rest of the world.

  As his thoughts continued to swirl through the unsettling emotions she inspired, a small knowing smile curved her lips. “You’re all the same, you know.”

  Though he suspected he knew what she was referencing, he still asked, “We are?”

  “Men. Always wanting what you can’t have.”

  “Are you referring to my desire for you?” he asked in a low tone.

  “Of course,” she replied with an elegant gesture and a manipulatively coy smile. “I can feel your hunger like heat in the air between us.”

  “There is no reason to deny it. I made clear at our last meeting what I want.”

  “That’s right. All of me,” she said sardonically as she sipped her brandy.

  Setting his snifter to the side, he leaned forward—bringing the heat of his desire with him—until he could see the pupils of her eyes widen a moment before her lashes swept lower to conceal her reaction.

  “Madam,” he murmured in a tone heavy with truth. “I am no longer a young man. There is more of my life spread out behind me than what I expect to encounter ahead of me. With that understanding comes a certainty about what I want to fill the time I have remaining. If you still believe my pursuit of you has anything at all to do with business, you’d be horribly mistaken.”

  CALLISTA FOCUSED ON breathing as the force of his words shot through her like white-hot lightning. For a moment, it felt like his declaration changed her intrinsically. Her cellular makeup felt altered by his words, which told her something unexpected—she had believed it was all a business ploy on his part, and now that she knew it wasn’t, everything was different.

  Still, many years of self-preservation urged her to reply with sharp finality. “As I said previously,” she noted with a smoothly forced smile, “you cannot have me.”

  “Not yet,” he murmured, repeating the words he’d spoken to her once before.

  The man’s patience was awe-inspiring and irritating beyond belief. Now that she had been forced to acknowledge the truth and depth of his desire, which went beyond basic lust to something far more terrifying, she also had to admire his determination to stay the course of seduction with slow and steady intent.

  Despite her constant resistance.

  Callista glanced to the snifter cradled in her palm. She was due for another pour but realized she’d likely had more than enough already. She couldn’t exactly recall what had prompted her to share the man’s gift with him. Likely, it had simply been the desire not to enjoy the pleasure alone. But now that the lovely liquor had softened and warmed her body in such a delightful way and was starting to melt her insides, as well, she feared remaining in Mr. Maxwell’s presence any longer.

  She was liable to starting rethinking this whole seduction thing and that would not be good for her.

  And why was that again?

  It didn’t matter.

  Setting her glass aside, she rose to her feet in a graceful, sinuous motion. Unfortunately, she miscalculated the degree of her inebriation and her head spun for a moment as the world tipped precariously on its axis.

  Maxwell noticed her slight loss of balance before she could correct it. Though still in the process of rising to his feet, he immediately grasped her waist to steady her. The heat and strength of his hands on her body, soaking through the thin layers of satin and silk, triggered a rush of desire through her blood. It swirled and spun then settled heavily in her center.

  Foolish desire. Reckless need. Desperate longing.

  Still holding her secure in his hands, he continued to his full height until they stood facing each other with bare inches between them. Callista knew real fear in that moment. Fear unlike any she’d experienced before because it touched a part of her she’d believed to be nonexistent.

  “Shall I let you go?”

  His low-spoken words could be taken as a request for assurance that she’d regained her balance. Or they could be taken as something else entirely. Callista chose to respond to the less detrimental option. Obviously.

  “I won’t tumble to the floor, I assure you.”

  He smiled. A devastating expression of subtle amusement and undeniable appreciation. Nothing seemed to dissuade this man.

  His fingers tensed briefly against the muscles of her low back as his thumbs pressed firmly to her belly. Sensation erupted throughout her body, touching on every secret little corner of her being. Then he withdrew his hands, chilling her body with an intense sense of loss.

  She shook it off.

  “Although it’s been a lovely evening, Mr. Maxwell, I must be off.”

  “I’ll escort you home.”

  “I’ve been making my own way in the world for a very long time. I’ll manage.”

  “Just because you can doesn’t mean you have to.”

  For some reason, his words struck a chord within her. It both scared her and irritated her.

  He wanted to insinuate himself into her life? Fine.

  “If you really want to accompany me somewhere, join me for my brother’s little get-together tomorrow.”

  His expression revealed only a hint of the surprise she’d anticipated.

  “Is that a genuine invitation?”

  She gave a casual shrug. “Why the hell not. At least I’d have someone to converse with. I’ll be round to pick you up.”

  Chapter Six

  “Your brother lives here?” Erik asked as Pendragon’s carriage pulled to a stop in front of a palatial mansion in the heart of Mayfair.

  The lady seated beside him tossed him a smirking smile as a groom opened the carriage door. “He does.”


  Erik stepped from the vehicle then turned to offer her his hand. As typical, there was a very slight hesitation before she slid her leather-clad fingers along his palm and allowed him to assist her to the pavement. “He is an aristocrat?”

  Her laugh was a delicate snort. “Far from. But he did marry one.” She lifted a fine brow. “Now you understand why I invited you.”

  “I might,” he replied with a subtle grin. He’d suspected the evening would be rather interesting, but he was getting a sense he’d underestimated by a significant degree.

  They were let into the house by a footman the size and approximate shape of a bull. Tall and solid with beefy shoulders and ham-sized fists. The grand entry hall was warm and welcoming, with gleaming parquet floors, rich mahogany wainscoting, and the scent of evergreen filling the air. Fresh boughs of Christmas greenery wound around the stairway banister and hung in heavy swags from the crown molding. Carefully placed candles lent a warm glow to the scene.

  A very proper-looking butler greeted them next. After taking their outerwear, he led them to a well-lit drawing room, where festive ivy, holly, and mistletoe formed an enormous wreath trimmed with red ribbon that hung over the fireplace. Pausing in the doorway, the butler announced them as “Miss Callista Hale and guest, Mr. Erik Maxwell.”

  Callista. The name snaked delicately through Erik’s mind. Most beautiful.

  “Lissy!”

  A great hulk of a man came striding forward, essentially blocking out the rest of the room and any other occupants from Erik’s view. He was larger even than the footman had been, though with his long tawny hair falling loose about his shoulders and his muscled physique, he resembled a lion rather than a bull. It became apparent he was Pendragon’s brother once Erik caught sight of the man’s green eyes a few shades darker than hers. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”