Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series)

by Cheryl Howe

James repositioned himself in the doorway leaning against the door frame, his arms folded over his chest. “Look familiar.”

  “I have been mistress of Eastlan for several years now.” She held her shoulder’s stiff. “I would be remiss if I did not know every nook of its vast interior. Your point?” She studied the room with the bed’s large carved headboard and the matching mahogany furnishings, keeping her back to one bureau in particular. What was he getting at?

  “Step back a foot.” His grin, lazy and confident, assured her he enjoyed making her the brunt of his private joke. She followed his direction, some of her tension easing with the silliness of his game.

  “Good. Stop. Now two small steps to your right. Stop. Perfect.”

  She glanced around the room and discovered nothing innocuous. What was it? Even the large bed that dominated the room was covered by a russet-colored spread and littered with laced-edge pillows that bordered on the effeminate, taking the innuendo out of the forbidden chamber. “I find nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Look directly in front of you.”

  A wall papered in dark brown flowers and cream stripes held an artful arrangement of painted landscapes and a single over-sized mirror. James wiggled his fingers in a cocky wave from his leaning position on the door jam and she noticed how the angle where she stood perfectly reflected the doorway…and a bit beyond.

  He’d seen her!

  He had not been simply staring at a wall in front of him while the maid kneeled before him and…he had been staring in the mirror directly at Astra watching them. She closed her eyes to block out the image of his fevered gaze both now and then.

  “You entered my room not only without invitation, but without even knocking. Did you enjoy the entertainment, Astra? You certainly seemed to.” He sounded so pleased with himself. Amusement rang clearly in his voice while she burned with shame. “If I recall correctly,” he continued, “and to be honest, things are a bit muddled considering the position I was in, you returned for a second look.”

  She opened her eyes and met his smirk in the mirror. “You were watching me. The whole time while she was…”

  His smile faded and his amused gaze melted under the same heat she had glimpsed during his indiscretion with the maid. He relished the idea of her watching him.

  “You enjoyed it. You enjoyed having me watch,” she said in a scalding whisper that burned her dry throat.

  “Yes,” his voice sounded husky and deadly serious. Gone was the naughty lad of a few moments ago who had orchestrated a mischievous prank.

  She pulled her gaze from the mirror, the distorted reflection magnifying some sort of physical intimacy that threatened to drag her under. Praying that the outrage he deserved would soon rescue her, she turned to face him. The erotic exchange she’d witnessed had involved her as much as the other woman. The vivid sexual fantasies she could not stop flooding her senses suddenly seemed impossibly real, as if James had been touching her, moaning in her ear. She could even taste his skin’s saltiness as though it were her tongue on his nipple, his skin, his…

  “You are without a shred of decency,” she said, mustering every ounce of courage she could, hoping he would be a gentleman and simply dismiss the whole incident. “I would rather live on the streets than share the same roof with a deviant such as you.”

  “I was only enjoying the pleasure so generously offered me after a long voyage. You, on the other hand, stumbled upon a private moment between two consenting adults and lingered to appease your own lust.”

  “I wanted to leave.” Astra stopped herself from outright lying. He had seen everything, after all. “I thought you were a servant. Someone I should report to—”

  “Is that how the upper class gets their jollies? Well then, I would rather be a servant.” He closed the bedroom door behind him and took a step toward her.

  Astra backed away. He continued to block the doorway or she would have stormed directly out of it. His stab at the truth stole her breath. If he knew how far between her jollies, as he so crudely termed it, it had been, perhaps he would not be so cruel.

  “I did not mean to intrude and I assure you it was not intentional. I was…” She swallowed the word fascinated. “I think I should leave now.” More than anything she desired to put some distance between them.

  He silently stalked toward her on bare feet like some wild Indian from his homeland. “Actually, your presence made the whole experience so much more interesting.”

  “I am surprised you even noticed I was there. You appeared very entranced with Melva’s talents.” She tried to muster up an indignant tone, since shock and horror had already been forfeited.

  “Who?” he asked without pausing his slow advance. It was as if he was expecting her to bolt and had every intention of preventing her escape.

  “The maid, Melva. The woman who had her mouth on your…” Astra glanced away, flushing at her blurting out the obvious details.

  He was closing the space between them, forcing Astra to give him her full attention. With no chance of escape, her new strategy needed to be one of fortitude. She needed to stand her ground, no matter what.

  “Was she your husband’s mistress?”

  “Heavens, no!” Perhaps it was from nerves, but Astra genuinely laughed. “Lowell didn’t…” Again, Astra was forced to stop herself. “Melva is new. I have no idea where she came from or what she does.” Astra almost choked since they both knew what Melva did best. “I was meaning to speak to the housekeeper about her, but since you two seem to be…friends, I’ll leave her duties to you.”

  “Astra, it was a mistake. I probably would have come to my senses if you hadn’t been watching.” He disregarded a respectable distance and stood so close that he stared down into her face.

  She met his hungry gaze wanting to hate his words but found herself relishing them instead. James’s mere closeness was a balm to the loneliness that she had accepted would be her lot in life. She inhaled deeply, catching his scent, distilling it in her mind, memorizing it so she could recall this moment in vivid detail if she wished to someday in the future.

  James gripped her arms and drew her closer still. “It’s your eyes. The slant or maybe the color. When you look at me, I feel like you’re touching me.”

  Astra turned her face from his, thought to leave, but remained in place. Having him so near forced her to think of desires she had long buried. Did she actually believe she could live her life without ever knowing a man’s touch again? And she couldn’t deny her body, at the very least, wanted this man more than she thought humanly possible. A body that betrayed her once again, heat pooling between her thighs. Even the living breathing evidence of such folly seemed a small price to pay for one moment with James.

  “This is wrong,” she said, her last grip on logic coming forth in a meager plea. Her face turned up to his, her lips parted, her body winning once again.

  “Very,” he said with a seductive grin.

  She knew he was going to kiss her. He lowered his head slowly, as though allowing her time to turn away, rebuke him if she chose. Her mind pleaded with her to say something to stop him, but something deeper, more desperate, held her still.

  His lips brushed hers and a sigh of pleasure slipped past her defenses. She gingerly touched his waist, feeling the firm muscles, the male heat beneath his thin shirt. His kiss was gentle and she responded by parting her lips, inviting him to use his tongue. He did with a tempered hunger that almost instantly drove her mad. She met his probing caress with her own, sending a flare of heat across her breasts and down her torso. Needing to feel him against her, she arched her back slightly and he responded by stepping into her. He slid one arm behind the small of her back and pressed her hips against his. She felt his arousal and her body responded with a rush of wet heat. A primal need to feel him inside her defied all reason.

  A knock sounded on the bedroom door. “James, sorry to disturb you, but we had agreed to meet in the yard at two. The horses are saddled. Should I te
ll the groomsman to put them away?”

  Wesley’s voice behind the bedroom door slowly penetrated Astra’s hazy awareness. She hadn’t even fully realized James had closed the door, trapping them alone together. Had he orchestrated this whole encounter, easily seducing the lonely widow? Good Lord, what had they done? Astra stiffened but James held her tighter, holding her head in place with a firm grip, deepening the kiss for one desperate moment longer. He poured so much lust into the last, rough press of his lips that Astra had trouble keeping her balance when he loosened his embrace.

  “No, I’ll be there in a moment,” he called to the closed door. “My valet insisted on redressing me.”

  “Our Mr. Rudd doesn’t tolerate an unpressed crease. I’ll meet you outside,” Wesley said good-naturedly, then loudly tromped across the outer room.

  Astra pressed a hand to her swollen lips, sure their mutual ravaging had left her bruised. She made an attempt to flee, but James caught her arm and held her.

  “I must go before anyone else stumbles upon us. James, to be discovered would ruin me.”

  “Wait. Let me leave first so I can occupy Wesley. He’s much too interested in your every move for my tastes.”

  “And well he should be. Look how I have behaved.” Shame scalded her face with a fiery wash. She had already ruined herself once, but now she had Lark to consider. There was much more at stake.

  “I much prefer the wanton Astra to the righteous Lady Keane.” He tried to caress her hair, leaning his head toward her as if he meant to kiss her again.

  She jerked from his grip. “What are you thinking?” Her voice was a shrill whisper. “If Wesley were to have caught us, he would be horrified.” Astra swallowed, and tried to stop her racing heart. The humiliation would have been unbearable. Wesley would surely regret his loyal friendship, rightfully branding her as the title-chasing social-climber she had often been rumored to be in the past.

  She paced to the far side of the room, distancing herself from James and the temptation she had little will to resist even now, missing the comfort and excitement of feeling his body so close against hers.

  “You should go before he returns.” She glanced at James to find him tugging at his shirt. Unfortunately, the ill-fitting garment failed to hang far enough to cover the obvious bulge in his buff-colored breeches.

  “I have to give it a moment.” He met her gaze and grinned. “The coat will help but it’s in the other room.”

  Astra covered her eyes and turned her face away. His casual manner proved he most likely did this sort of thing all the time. Had she so quickly forgotten his recent liaison with the maid?

  “Please, James. Never try to kiss me again. You are correct. I am not the prim and proper widow I claim to be. You win. Let us never speak of it again.”

  He took a step nearer. “I didn’t kiss you to win anything.”

  “Whatever the reason, please understand that you could ruin me. Not only socially, but in every way.” She paused, her throat tightened and she struggled to compose herself. She wasn’t sure if the rush of emotion sprung from a pain that should have been long buried or from a new wound—the loss of the woman she must forever forfeit for the sake of propriety—for the sake of her daughter.

  “I didn’t bring you in here to seduce you, Astra.” All traces of humor had left his voice but she refused to believe he cared a wit that she was near hysterics.

  “You didn’t have to, did you? I was quite willing without the least bit of encouragement.” Apparently she had not learned a thing from her first love. “Perhaps it best for me to find other living arrangements until your departure.”

  “It was only a kiss. Please don’t think you must leave. We have an arrangement that suits us both and there’s no need for that to change. Let’s talk of this later.” James headed for the door.

  He gripped the door handle, then glanced over his shoulder. “I won’t say I’m sorry, because I’m not, but I can promise you that I won’t touch you again if that’s your wish.”

  Astra nodded and turned away, unable to lie and say that was exactly what she wanted.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Astra, why ruin the lovely lavender with that black shawl? You have the jet necklace.” Her mother sauntered to where Astra stood before the cherry wood cheval mirror, admiring the fit of her current favorite gown. She had to admit, she was glad to see herself in something other than solid black, though Lady Phillina’s gentle suggestion that it was past time to abandon her severe mourning clothes at first stirred panic.

  “It would hardly be considered half-mourning without a bit of black. And the bodice is too low without the scarf.” The lavender bodice with a matching white and lavender striped skirt was as festive as she dare be. Knowing she would face James again soon, she needed something to hide the blush that would surely erupt over every ounce of skin the moment they made eye contact.

  “I’d wager James wouldn’t think the dip in your neckline inappropriate.” Her mother’s vibrant gown in shimmering aquamarine and feathered coiffure looked more appropriate for a night at the opera rather than a quiet dinner at home.

  “James has much to learn about English propriety.” And so did Astra. She took a cleansing breath to quell her flush of guilt. She should never have let him kiss her. What sins she’d committed by watching him with the maid were too disturbing to even consider.

  “He’s a man, darling. A real man. They do things differently. English or not.”

  Astra turned away from the tall oval mirror before her mother could register her distress. “So, what plans did you two make for the ball? You never said.” Her mother’s curious tone warned that she may already suspect their mutual breach of propriety. Her mother was never interested in anything mundane and socially acceptable.

  “Our meeting was postponed. Lord Keane had another appointment.” Astra managed to keep her tone crisp and cool. Hopefully she could maintain the façade for the rest of the evening.

  “Oh, I bet he hated that. Wait until he sees you tonight. Even with that dreary black cloth you’re using to disguise your pretty dress. You are absolutely glowing this evening. You know, Astra, if you can pretend to be anything other than dour, you’ll have no problem getting James on his knees within the week.”

  Astra strolled to her dressing mirror and dusted some powder over her flushed cheeks. The reverse was more likely if she didn’t keep her distance. “As usual, you have no idea what you speak of, Mother. There is nothing between James and I. We are cousins by marriage and he is several years younger than me.”

  “Don’t be silly, Astra. Three years does not make several. And it’s obvious that he’s not been sheltered those years as have you. James Keane is ripe for plucking. He doesn’t seem like a patient man. You’re a grown woman now with no time to waste in playing coy.”

  “He hasn’t proposed, and I assure you, he has no intention of doing so.” Astra tucked a stray strand of hair back into its proper place. As if her mother ever thought there was a time for coquettish restraint.

  “You need some rouge.” Her mother’s reflection appeared beside Astra’s in the mirror. The older woman’s dark hair was piled artfully atop her head and her lips artificially red. In comparison, Astra did appear a bit wan. “A formal proposal isn’t what I’m referring to and you know it.”

  Astra closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look into her mother’s penetrating stare.

  “Lure him alone,” she said near Astra’s ear. Her mother tugged at the blond strand she had recently replaced and whisked away the scarf Astra had draped around her neckline.

  Astra opened her eyes, instantly taken by the transformation. The jet-black necklace hung seductively against her pale skin, her lavender neckline softly outlining her round breasts pushed up by her corset. Astra recognized the young woman, one full of hope and possibilities, the woman she had once been before betrayal and heartache wore her down. James had done this by his stolen kiss and honest desire. Astra had not thought of h
erself as pretty since Lark had been conceived. No, it was after that. The morning after to be precise.

  “Nature will do the rest,” her mother squeezed her bared shoulders. “Trust me.”

  Astra slid away from the mirror and her mother’s cloying attention. “I trusted you before and the results were disastrous.”

  “I would say it all worked out for the best. And here you are, in a fine position again and with the prospect of such a man as James warming your bed. Perhaps he’s not ready to propose but you should become his mistress with all haste.”

  Astra sucked in a hot, painful breath, and turned around to glare at her mother. “Are you mad?”

  A knock on the door cut short her mother’s dangerous diatribe. Astra turned to the window to compose herself, allowing her mother to glide across the carpet to the chorus of her stiff skirts. If her mother had any notion of the precarious state of her inheritance, her arguments might easily persuade Astra to abandon reason.

  “James! Speak of the devil. How wonderful to see you. Have you come to escort Astra to dinner?” Her mother’s delighted voice sliced through Astra’s fragile composure.

  Astra clenched her fist against her rebellious stomach. The person she wanted to see least in this world stood at the door.

  ***

  James cleared his throat to keep from gaping at Astra. The curve-hugging gown she wore must have been specifically designed to disconcert the male population. He had no idea her shoulders would be so pale, so smooth. Perhaps he really was the lecherous oaf he’d portrayed this afternoon. Just the curve of her neck was making him randy as hell. What happened to the black concoction that covered her from chin to toe?

  “I’d be honored to escort Astra to dinner, if she’ll allow me the pleasure.” He bowed, trying to appear humble and tame.

  Astra’s mother, Lady Seabrook, laughed too loudly. “Of course she’ll allow you, you silly boy. Who could she say no to you? Come in, for goodness sakes. You don’t have to linger on the threshold like a beggar. After all, this is your house and you have a right to anything and everything in it.”