Carmalina choked on her tea. “Glad?” she asked when finally she ceased coughing.
“Boy needs someone to set him straight, make him settle down for a bit.”
“I don’t believe that is what he has in mind,” she mused. Surely the old man knew about Justin’s life mission. One would have to deaf, dumb and blind not to see the things he did were for a reason. He wasn’t some brat in need of attention. He was a man crying out for the love of his family. And this man was a part of that family.
“He doesn’t always know what he needs. And sometime what he wants is entirely different.”
“And you know what he wants?”
“Damned if I know why, but yes. I understand like no one else could.”
Carmalina felt sorry for both men and their sadness. She hadn’t noticed it earlier under his bravado and directness, but she saw it then. Oliver hurt just as much as his nephew, maybe more.
“You approve of it?”
“You are straight to the point, aren’t you?” Oliver chuckled.
“I don’t speak in circles, no.”
“Let’s just say I know why he does some of the things he does. I will not judge him for his decisions. Good or bad, they are his own. It is only he who will stand at the gates of heaven and give a reason for his actions.”
Carmalina thought about that. This man cared for Justin. Why else would he take tea with the mistress, give him a house to live in, pay calls to check on him?
“What other rumors have you heard?”
Oliver chuckled again. “Apparently other than breathing fire and living in the man’s house with him, you have him completely under your spell. Was the kissing at Lucifer’s part of the show?”
“I’m not quite sure,” she admitted with a sigh. There was no way to tell what filled Justin’s mind when he’d taken her in his arms in front of so many.
After a moment’s silence, Carmalina asked another question. “Am I not supposed to live here?”
“There are no set rules for keeping a mistress,” Oliver told her, clearly ignoring her blush at his candid words. “But then again, even if there were, Justin would find a way to break them.”
“Ahem.”
Carmalina tensed. How long had he stood there and listened?
“It is rude to eavesdrop on another’s private discussions,” Carmalina admonished gently without taking her eyes from Oliver’s. She would not let him see her guilt that they discussed him so candidly.
“It is rude to talk about someone not in the room.”
He read her mind though she hoped her thoughts were not all so transparent. She was caught off guard, and reeled being in the same room as these two. The force of the power that surrounded them stifled. She hadn’t really noticed Oliver’s strength until he saw Justin and straightened, his shoulders lifted, his chest puffed out and his head rose high as though they weren’t just found talking gossip. It was as if he had relaxed with her but would not appear anything but a virile man to his nephew. Between the two of them the room suddenly felt masculine, formidable, beyond powerful.
“Nonsense. Had you not lazed in bed, you would have been a part of the conversation,” Oliver chided.
“I assure you, lazing was the last thing I was doing in my bed this morning.”
Carmalina dropped her gaze to her lap and the empty cup she held as her cheeks burned again. Why did everyone have to keep alluding to their relationship?
“Be that as it may, this is really quite brave of you, lad.” Oliver gestured to Carmalina.
“Which part?” Justin asked nonchalantly, pouring himself a cup of the cooling tea.
“Upstart. Don’t take that tone with me. You know very well this will set the old fool’s vein popping from his head.”
“Do you think he has heard yet?”
“I doubt it. He and your mother went to the country a few days ago to take care of estate business, but they will be back soon and when they hear…” Oliver trailed off with a grimace.
“The sooner the better. Where are my brothers?” Justin asked, taking a seat next to Carmalina on the sofa. He was so close, she could smell his cologne, see the drops of water that still clung to his hair before rolling down his neck to soak into his shirt collar.
“Those two will be loitering around somewhere. I hear Alexander is wife-hunting this season.”
Justin snorted. “God help the one who catches his attention.”
“Which one is Alexander?” Carmalina asked, feeling every inch the stranger she was. Should she have asked more about his family before now? Was she expected to show an interest?
“The heir,” Justin replied. “Father must be leaning on him to make a start on the next generation of pompous idiots.”
“Be sure he would be,” Oliver agreed with another grimace.
“Is your father’s health ailing?” Carmalina didn’t want to ask such in indelicate question but she had a feeling she’d missed something. They spoke as though Alexander had no say in the matter of his future wife and children and that it was urgent he marry.
“Good God, no. Stubborn jackass will live to be a hundred just to hold on to the land and entailments. He thrives upon power and will not relinquish it until it can be pried from his cold dead fingers.” The vehemence in Oliver Trentham’s voice sent a shiver of unease up her spine.
Surely both men couldn’t have good cause to be so bitter about Justin’s father? She wanted to ask but Justin’s firm hand on her knee and the slight pressure he applied said he knew what she pondered and warned her to stop.
“Fortunately, Uncle, we won’t have to worry about his cold dead fingers. Alexander and Devlin can have the esteemed honor and fight out the details between them. I want nothing from the earl.”
The tension in the air was palpable. She intruded on a private family moment and couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable. “I believe I shall retire to freshen up before luncheon.” Looking to from Justin and then back to Oliver she said, “I hope you will join us?”
“Nonsense, dear. You two lovebirds need some time to be alone, I’m sure.”
Justin gave her an indulgent grin. “Yes we do.”
Oliver chuckled at Justin’s words and then rose to say goodbye. Carmalina was surprised when he took both of her cold hands in his and kissed her on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”
Her stomach flip-flopped and her tongue tied. Mistresses were not welcomed into the family. Perhaps he teased? The twinkle in his eye said he enjoyed the moment but she couldn’t be sure. Yet again she felt as though something unsaid was more important than the spoken words. Inclining her head, she took her leave and fled to the safety of her bedroom.
Chapter Twelve
“The gossip does her no justice, boy.”
Justin stared at his uncle and waited for an explanation as to why he was there. It was most unlike him to pay early morning calls even to find out if his latest exploit was fact or fiction.
“All right, all right.” Oliver shook his head and shrugged his broad shoulders. “I was curious.”
“You and the rest of the city,” Justin muttered.
“They’ll be here soon too. What did you expect?”
“I’m not really sure,” he admitted with a sigh.
“You do know some are saying you offered her more money than the theatre.”
“I probably did.” If her threadbare gowns and holey shoes were anything to go by.
“Did you ask her not to sing anymore?”
Justin’s head snapped up so quickly his teeth rattled. “I did no such thing!”
“The general gist of the speculation is that the girl was getting too old to sing and has been shopping around for a benefactor.”
Justin’s hands clenched into fists. He had the urge to punch someone. How dare they say unkind things of Carmalina? She’d been as shocked by his offer as he had been to make it. Besides, he was supposed to be the more scandalous topic of conversation, not her.
�
�It was inevitable, lad.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Like what?” Oliver asked, his shrewd gaze narrowing.
“So damned hard!” Justin rose from the couch and started to pace from one end of the garish yellow room to the other. Its cheeriness even under heavy cloud was all too evident and this morning it grated.
“Can’t keep your hands off her, eh?”
“Exactly the opposite.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Justin stopped and rubbed a hand over his face. He debated just how much to tell his uncle. Oliver knew discretion and wouldn’t do anything to hurt him but in that moment Justin felt slightly embarrassed he’d agreed to her stupid bargain in the first place. He was a seasoned rake. A man who knew what he desired and grasped it without all this trouble and rigmarole. He’d never been so hard for a woman and it unnerved and weakened him.
“Well?” Oliver prompted.
“I’m not allowed to touch her.”
“Not allowed?”
“We have an agreement of sorts and I promised to give her one week to get used to the idea of becoming my mistress.”
Instead of the sympathy he’d hoped would be forthcoming, Oliver threw his head back and laughed so loud, Justin had to quiet him. “Dammit, she’ll hear you!”
“She certainly has you backed over a barrel, doesn’t she?”
“It’s not that funny.” Justin sat back on the sofa, his head in his hands.
“It is from where I sit.”
“What the hell am I going to do?”
“What kind of agreement did you make?” His laughter subsided but now the interest in Oliver’s eyes made Justin regret telling him anything at all.
“One that cannot be broken.”
“Maybe not broken. What about bent?”
He’d thought of that, every minute of every hour, but he hadn’t wanted to push her.
Oliver asked another question. “What are the exact terms of the agreement?”
“You don’t want to know,” Justin groaned.
“Maybe I can help?”
“Oh, very well. I agreed that I would not go to her bed within seven days from the start of our…er, relationship. Her condition, not mine.”
“You said you would not go to her bed?”
“I’ve already thought of that. I asked her to come to my bed but your untimely arrival put that idea to dust.”
“You mean she actually came to you? Why would she break her own condition?” The confusion in Oliver’s eyes mirrored his own. Why had she come to his room? She certainly hadn’t come intent on passion. She’d said she wished to talk. Now his own curiosity was piqued. Carmalina had to know what impression she would give when she knocked on his door. It was why he’d dallied so long, spread out his breakfast by taking tiny bites rather than large ones, read infuriating gossip columns he had zero interest in. He would have waited there all day.
At her tentative knock, his blood had rushed south and his mouth watered to taste her again. But that wasn’t to be.
“We had a moment last night and I told her if she wanted to continue what we had started, she would need to make the next move.”
“You aren’t playing chess,” Oliver pointed out.
“A good thing too. She would have beat me soundless by now.”
“She already has.” Oliver laughed.
“She wants me, I know she does.” Then it occurred to him what his uncle had said a few minutes before. “Why do people say she is too old to sing?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Unease trickled along his nerves to replace desire and confusion.
“That silly man, Ricardo or Richard, or whatever his name is has replaced her.”
“When did this happen?” Justin asked. The trickle turned to a torrent.
“Yesterday.”
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. She hadn’t rethought his offer. She’d had no other choice. Had she known, when she’d knocked on his door all those mornings ago, that she’d been about to be usurped? Or had her acceptance of his offer been the reason she’d been replaced? There were too many possibilities, each in danger of being discarded in favor of his songbird not deceiving him from the beginning. It was he who had enticed her under false pretences, not telling her about his scandal, but maybe it had something to do with her own secret? Was this what she held back? If she lied about accepting his offer, had she lied about other things as well? Was the seven-day condition only so she could drive him insane with need and then have him on his knees at her mercy?
He groaned as the image presented in his mind. The fact was, he already lay prostrate before her. He still wanted her more than his next breath, cunning baggage or not.
“She really has you on a leash, doesn’t she?” Oliver’s words now held sympathy. But Justin didn’t need it.
“Not for long,” he promised. “Not for long.”
For the duration of his uncle’s visit, Justin was distracted and he wasn’t surprised when Oliver took his leave. He didn’t feel like conversing with anyone. He felt like climbing the stairs and throttling the truth from Carmalina. Why hadn’t she mentioned the fact that she would not sing anymore?
In his mind, he saw her traipsing into the garden to collect her battered old case. Should he call her on it? Should he tell her he knew and demand an explanation? No, he decided. He would hold on to the information until the best time to reveal it.
Right now, he had a scandal to stir.
By the time Justin climbed the stairs to Carmalina’s room, his determination had doubled. He would wage a war on her senses like he’d never attempted before. He hoped she wouldn’t be able to resist.
* * *
Cool fingers pressed to warm cheeks as Carmalina wondered what her next step would be. She had been intent on ending things with Justin, to walk away and never look back, but to witness his pain—and Oliver’s—she knew she couldn’t do it.
Her intentions may have been noble, but she could not argue with her body’s reaction to him when he’d kissed her most private place, or when his deep voice rumbled through her when he spoke or laughed. She was falling in more ways than one when it came to Justin Trentham and she had to stop. But she couldn’t.
The only question to answer now? Would she make him wait a few more days, or would she signal her surrender and give in to the passion he made her feel? Never had she been so flighty, so indecisive and unsure. One hour she was more than ready to flee and then next she schemed her own downfall. But she could not simply surrender. They both knew that wasn’t an option. It would leave her vulnerable to him breaking his word on their other conditions.
A knock at her bedroom door startled her, although she knew he would come. The way she’d entered his room earlier and begged to have a discussion with him would have piqued his curiosity if nothing else. Curse her rash behavior!
“Come in,” she called and turned back to the window so he wouldn’t see how her cheeks still flushed. She would have permanent spots burnt into her face at this rate.
“Are you all right, Carmalina?” His deep voice rumbled through her as it usually did but the undertones of concern made her stomach churn uncomfortably. Why did he have to be so nice? Why could he not be the rogue everyone assumed him to be?
“I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”
“Then turn around, bella. Look at me.”
His footsteps were slow but an assured warning; his breath on her neck warmed with his whispered words. She was frightened, non, terrified. Not of him, but of her reaction to his nearness.
Warm hands wrapped about her elbow and with the slightest pressure, he turned her in the circle of his arms. “I did not mean for Uncle Oliver to come here so soon.”
“He is a very nice man.”
“He is that.” Justin nodded.
The tenderness in his voice melted her heart. She lifted her eyes to meet his. He was so confusing, his mood
s, his emotions. She could never ascertain if he was happy, sad, angry. It gave her a headache to try.
“What do you want from me?” Carmalina hadn’t meant to utter the words, but nevertheless they were out and hovered in air fraught with tension.
“I want whatever you are able to give.” His blue gaze softened, dropped to her lips and then back to her eyes.
“What if I am unable to give it to you?” she whispered.
“You are the only one who can.” With that declaration, his mouth descended on hers with a softness that made her reel, and yearn, and want. Her arms rose to wind around his neck, to draw him closer. She wantonly pressed her body to his, the hard planes of his chest like steel against hers. Oh, how she wanted him. On some level she knew she played with fire, but the flames didn’t frighten her. They were all-consuming but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
When he finally pulled away, his eyes glistened and a small triumphant smile curled his mouth. “Yes,” he murmured.
The moment dragged on for what seemed like hours as she stared into his eyes, neither moving until suddenly Justin seemed to recall why he was there.
“Why did you come to me this morning?”
Carmalina pushed away and paced to the window, her back to him once again. She had to speak of her fears to someone and there was no one else.
“I went back to the park this morning, to play with the children again.”
“But it is freezing out.” His tone turned from passionate to angry in the space of a blink. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”
“I promised the children I would be back.”
“And what about me?”
She turned to face him. “You?”
“Last night I clearly I invited you to my bed yet you went out to play with children?”
“You have to know I couldn’t come to you.”
“But you did. Why?”
Not for the reason he first assumed. “I wanted to talk with you.”
“In my bed?”
“You were not up yet.”
“I was waiting for you.”
“I wasn’t coming.”
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