The Secrets He Keeps: A Peril & Persuasion Novella

by Amy Sandas

  “And I’m damned grateful, for it brought you stumbling through my door,” Hale added as he took his wife’s hand and brought it to his lips.

  “Stumbling?” the lady asked with a haughtily raised brow. “I believe you’ve forgotten that our first encounter involved a set of dueling pistols aimed for your person.”

  “On the contrary, it’s one of my favorite memories,” he murmured thickly before giving a quick wink that brought a tint of pink to her cheeks.

  Erik glanced to Callista with a lifted brow, wondering if she’d concede his earlier point. But she appeared to have missed the interaction between her brother and his wife as she was busy staring at him instead. Her expression was tense and her gaze narrowed as though she were contemplating something intently.

  He suspected he knew exactly what was on her mind.

  The kiss they’d shared had been everything he’d known it would be—intense and erotic, but also undeniably emotional. He’d hazard a guess to say it might have been a bit more than she’d expected.

  There was no hiding from the passion between them. The potential. Only a fool would deny it existed and the woman was no fool. Despite that, Erik was under no delusion that his campaign had been won with a single kiss.

  As her gaze flickered with the shadow of something unnamed, he almost wished he could reassure her. But she’d have to come to her own conclusions about what she was feeling and what it meant for the two of them.

  Though he chose not to say anything, he did offer a smile.

  Her expression tightened in response before she looked away to sip from her wineglass.

  After the meal, the party returned to the drawing room. It wasn’t much longer before Claire’s nurse came to fetch the young girl. Though she pouted about having to leave, it was clear the little girl was ready for bed. The young duke decided to go upstairs as well. Though his sister assured he could stay and visit a bit longer if he liked, he explained that he wished to work on his current project before going to bed. Before they left, Callista stopped the children beside her chair. Leaning toward them, she whispered something and handed each of them a small velvet pouch. Their smiles were bright as they continued from the room.

  “That wasn’t necessary, Lissy.”

  There was a heavy note in Hale’s voice, but his sister looked at him with an arched brow. “It was just a few sweets and a coin or two. Nothing inappropriate, I assure you.”

  “Still a helluva lot more than we ever got,” he muttered gruffly.

  “Yes, well, that is the whole point, isn’t it, Mace? To leave the evils of the past in the gin-soaked lanes where they belong.”

  A silent communication passed between the siblings before Hale raised his glass. “Hear, hear.” After that, he launched into a tale of one particular holiday in his youth that involved a runaway pig, a gang of street urchins, and a frozen ditch that proved to be not so frozen after all. Erik followed with a story of one year when his acting troupe met up with a caravan of the Rom while traveling through Italy. The two groups all contributed to an elaborate festival of dancing, drinking, and feasting that lasted four days without stop.

  The evening continued with more shared stories and bittersweet recollections as laughter flowed as freely as the wine. Eventually, however, the hour grew late and the liveliness of the gathering began to fade. As they all made their way to the entry hall, where the butler waited to hand off their winter coats and cloaks, Hale hauled Lady Katherine in against his side with a thick arm around her waist. Tossing his sister a wide grin, he said, “Not such a bad evening, eh, Lissy?”

  The look she gave him was full of amiable annoyance. “It was tolerable, I suppose.”

  Lady Katherine, not at all put out by Callista’s sarcastic response, smiled warmly. “I thought it was lovely. Thank you both so much for celebrating the holiday with us. I hope we’ll have an opportunity to repeat the experience soon.”

  Erik was in the process of settling Callista’s black fur-lined cloak about her shoulders and he felt the brief, subtle tensing in her body. Smoothing his hands over her shoulders, he replied to their hostess with an easy smile. “It would be a pleasure and an honor, Lady Katherine.”

  The night was crisp with cold, but the sky was clear. Moonlight and stars brightened the sky and filtered a silver haze into the atmosphere as they climbed into the carriage, where a warmer had been set on the floor to keep their toes from freezing. Even so, Erik immediately reached for the heavy woolen rugs set in the corner and unfolded them over their legs.

  Though they sat close beside each other to share the limited warmth, neither spoke for a while as their breath puffed cold into the air. And when he noticed the woman beside him still shivering with cold even after the vehicle began to warm, he brought his arm up around her shoulders and slowly drew her in closer against his side.

  If she had given any sign of resistance to the shift in position, he would have ceased, but she didn’t. In fact, she offered a quiet sigh as she rested her head against his shoulder and curved her body toward his. One of her hands fell to his upper thigh beneath the blanket, causing a swift rise in his internal temperature.

  With his cock hardening and his chest aching sweetly, he looked down to see that her eyes had closed and her features were in repose. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine or their shared comfort that encouraged her to claim a moment of rest, but he was grateful for it as he allowed himself the luxury of admiring her beauty at this intimate angle.

  The black kohl lining her eyes added a dramatic element to her features but he found himself more mesmerized by the lush fan of her lashes against her smooth skin. The red tint she often added to her generously curved lips had all but faded away throughout the evening, leaving her mouth a dusky rose color that was soft and sensual. Even in repose, there was an element of calculated ambition in the details of her face. It was there in her broad, smooth forehead and in the angled, almost square shape of her jaw and in the slashing arches of her elegant brows.

  Such a formidable woman.

  He knew she could be ruthless when it was warranted. She could be cool and manipulative and brash. She was relentlessly competitive and arrogant and utterly bewitching. And yet, she was allowing this moment. A moment of silent companionship and shared ease.

  His heart ached with the privilege even as his body tensed and hardened with the visceral pleasure of having her lush softness pressed against him.

  Leaning his head back against the wall of the carriage, he closed his eyes, as well. Listening to her even breath and the rhythm of the carriage wheels while soaking up the warmth and ease and honor of holding her in his arms, he might have drifted off a bit before the lurch of the vehicle as it came to a stop brought him swiftly back to full awareness. Blinking, he lifted his head and glanced about as the lady in his arms also stirred. Her hand on his thigh tensed and squeezed as she used it to leverage herself to a more independently seated position a moment before the groom opened the carriage door.

  As she leaned forward to glance outward, she muttered a quiet curse.

  “What is the matter?” Erik looked past her into the night. Beyond the groom who stood holding the door, he saw a softly lit townhouse. The residence was stately and stylish in a way that spoke of understated wealth.

  “I forgot to instruct the driver to drop you at your club.”

  “Where are we?” He knew it wasn’t Pendragon’s Pleasure House as he’d already made sure to acquaint himself with its location though not its services.

  Her expression tightened as she replied in a clipped tone, “I’d prefer no one know of this place.”

  “Your private residence?”

  “Private no longer, unfortunately,” she grumbled in response.

  “It pleases me to know you have a place you can go to retreat from all of the demands on your time and personal attention,” he replied gently.

  He waited for her to say that it was not her intention to please him, but she just slid him a glance f
rom the corner of her eye and said nothing.

  “I’m sure you’re anxious to be in the warmth and comfort of your home. I’ll walk you to your door, then your driver can take me to my club.”

  “No,” she replied readily, “you can stay here, I’ll walk myself to the door, then my driver can take you to your club.”

  Erik laughed. “As you wish, madam, but first...” He caught her gaze with his. “I must request another kiss.”

  Her lips curled in amusement. “You must?”

  “Indeed,” he replied, lowering his voice to an intimate murmur. “If I did not, I would never forgive myself for the cowardice of letting you go without at least trying to taste you again.”

  Cynicism returned to her gaze. “And why should I allow it this time?”

  “Because you want to taste me just as badly. And you are no more a coward than I am.”

  Her laugh was sultry but held a harsh note. “You think that kind of blatant challenge will work on me?”

  “I do. Because it is the simple truth.”

  He waited for her acknowledgement, knowing it would come. Because along with her bold confidence came deep and undeniable self-awareness. He saw the acceptance in her eyes a moment before she placed her hand back on his thigh and leaned toward him.

  Lifting his gloved hand, he slid his fingers along the side of her jaw then back to curve around the base of her skull and gently tip her face up to his. Tension built between them as he stared into her eyes before moving to take her mouth.

  She likely expected a kiss similar to their first—fiery and fierce. But he wanted something else in this moment. Wanted to offer something else.

  As a gust of frigid air swept through the open door of the carriage, causing the woman in his arms to give a delicate shudder, he lowered his head. Brushing his lips warmly across her cool lips in a careful application of friction and pressure, he waited for her eyes to drift closed. As soon as they did, he began to sip gently from her lips in quiet little kisses.

  Her soft sigh as her mouth parted urged him to deepen the kiss. Adjusting his hand to more fully cup the back of her head, he angled his mouth over hers. Though their lips were parted enough to share warmth of breath, he did not employ his tongue to taste her secrets just yet.

  The slow seduction of the kiss affected him as much as he hoped it might affect her. His insides melted with yearning and desire. His body thrummed with need. But it was a need he was more than happy to deny. The pleasure to be found in the lush sweetness of her mouth was all he wanted to explore just now.

  Her hand shifted on his thigh as she leaned farther into him, her breasts pressing to his chest. There was no stopping the low growl of hunger that rumbled in his throat as he brought his other arm around her back to hold her against him as he finally slipped his tongue between her lips to deepen the kiss.

  Her response was languid and perfect. An answering twirl of her tongue against his, then a nip on his lower lip when he withdrew.

  They opened their eyes at the same time and Erik slowly eased his hold from around her body. But before she could fully retreat from him, he asked roughly, “When shall I see you again?”

  Something flashed in her gaze, something that caused a clench of concern.

  Pulling free of his arms, she turned toward the carriage door. “I’ll be rather busy for a while.”

  The groom assisted her from the vehicle but Erik couldn’t leave it at that. Before she could walk away from him yet again, he leaned forward to remind her, “There are six days remaining in our agreement.”

  Wrapping her cloak securely around herself, she looked at him over her shoulder and offered a sly, knowing smile. “That is true, but I am a busy woman, Mr. Maxwell. Something of which you are well aware. I will not change my life to suit your purposes.”

  He frowned. “And I would never ask you to.” Her devotion to her business was one of the things he admired most about her. And the truth was, if he could not convince her to give him a chance within the boundaries she had set, then he did not deserve her time.

  She arched her brows. “Wouldn’t you?”

  The distrust in her voice struck him harder and deeper than ever before. He’d thought she was starting to understand him as he was coming to better understand her. He’d hoped she might be starting to feel some real affection for him.

  But as she turned away and walked to the front door of her private residence, he realized he might be further from his goal than he’d thought.

  Chapter Eight

  Callista rarely made mistakes when it came to Pendragon’s. She took risks on occasion and experimented every once in a while, but she never considered any of her decisions—even those that did not turn out as well as expected—mistakes.

  But the moment she dropped the invitation in the post, she suspected she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.

  Yet she refused to take the small missive back.

  Callista was nothing if not honest with herself.

  She was fully aware that she had spent the last couple decades obsessively focused on creating a business and a life that could not be compromised by any man.

  She knew she’d sacrificed a great many personal relationships to achieve her goal, though she’d managed to somehow tenuously hold on to the only one that really mattered. Even that, she acknowledged, was likely due more to Mason’s efforts than her own.

  She was driven, ambitious, focused, and maybe a little preoccupied with attaining personal power. But she also knew those things were motivated by a past when she’d had nothing, and the sense of powerlessness she’d experienced had nearly ruined her.

  She also had to admit to herself that she had enjoyed Christmas this year more than any year prior and it had been all because of the company.

  So, if she could recognize and accept her faults and occasionally flawed motivations, she had to also admit when something she’d assumed to be fact turned out to be incorrect.

  Erik Maxwell and his gentleman’s club, or whatever it was, did not pose any threat to Pendragon’s Pleasure House. They might cater to a similar social demographic, but any gentleman interested in the pleasures offered by her establishment would not be the same type of man who sought entrance to Maxwell’s. Her time with the man had convinced her that if nothing else, he believed whole-heartedly in what he was doing. And because of that, there was no need to drive him out of town.

  No need to deny her intense attraction to the man and resist his seduction any longer.

  If she weren’t so accustomed to redirecting men’s desires and resisting their attempts at influencing her, she would have tossed herself into Maxwell’s bed the night they’d shared the brandy in front of his fire.

  But the truth was, in the spirit of being completely honest with herself, Callista also had to admit that her feelings for the man were far more complicated than simple lust.

  Somehow, he’d managed to slip beneath her barriers. With his smooth words and intense gaze, he’d accessed parts of her she’d long ago learned to keep hidden. She could deny it all she wanted to his face, but he’d been absolutely correct about the fact that there was a part of her she hadn’t allowed past Pendragon’s façade in a long time. He’d seen it and he’d delicately trailed his fingertips along her sensitive and vulnerable underbelly.

  With his patient questions and quiet consideration and the way he seemed to genuinely want to know the contents of her mind as much as he wanted to release the contents of her corset, he’d ignited a few secret wishes she’d tucked so far into the shadows of her being, she’d forgotten they existed.

  And now that they’d been relit, she couldn’t ignore them.

  In fact, she suspected she might want to explore them. Even if it were for only one night. She simply couldn’t allow any more than that. But a lot could happen in one night.

  AFTER WEEKS OF PREPARATION, Pendragon’s annual end-of-the-year celebration event had finally arrived.

  Callista always took exception
al and deliberate care with her appearance, but on this night it felt different. Because she wasn’t dressing to stun and awe the dozens of high-spenders who’d be coming to Pendragon’s expecting a night of exceptional pleasures and over-the-top depravities. She was dressing for one man only.

  Keeping in line with her signature red and black, the dress she wore tonight was one she’d designed herself. The base of the gown was a blood-red silk, but instead of the empire waist currently in fashion, the bodice was designed into a full corset that shaped her figure from breasts to hips. Delicate swaths of silk draped over her shoulders, leaving her arms bare and her dragon on full display. There would be no gloves tonight.

  The skirts of the gown had been slit in several places from the hem, all the way up to the embroidered base of her corset, revealing an underskirt of black lace. As she walked and moved, the transparent lace would be revealed, showing suggestive glimpses of her bare legs beneath.

  But only glimpses.

  Her slippers were black beaded satin and a black onyx choker encircled her throat. In her elaborately styled hair were several red roses so dark they appeared almost black in certain light.

  She looked magnificent.

  Strong. Seductive. Utterly in command and utterly untouchable by the common man.

  It was the persona she’d spent years creating, and tonight, she was at the height of her power.

  Pendragon’s Pleasure House was located near St. James Square and Mayfair, where so many of the high-society gentlemen she catered to lived in domestic dissatisfaction. Decorated entirely in a Grecian theme, the larger rooms held mural-sized paintings depicting blatant sexual scenes, and marble pillars framed every doorway. The main floor contained an entry hall where her doormen carefully managed the flow of people entering and exiting the building. Even on regular nights, one must either be on the list of established members, be sponsored by an approved member in high esteem, or they must have a direct invitation from Pendragon herself. Once allowed in, guests could wander through various public rooms, each one leading deeper into the heart of the house where hedonistic sin and wickedness reigned.