Seven Nights of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors

by Victoria Vane

  ***

  Diana didn’t have to wait long for an answer to her message. Within an hour of DeVere’s return, he sent word via a footman for her to meet him in his private withdrawing room. She was surprised to find him waiting for her, looking like he had just finished his toilette. His black hair was damp and hung loosely about his shoulders. He was informally clothed in a dressing gown over his smallclothes and devoid of cravat over his fine lawn shirt. Diana struggled to pull her gaze from the strong column of his neck, a sight that seemed almost illicit in its visual appeal. His state of casual undress made her oddly uncomfortable, as if he implied they were on terms of some intimacy, rather than near-strangers.

  DeVere swept her an almost-mocking bow.

  “A thousand pardons for interrupting you,” Diana said. “But I have a personal matter that Edward felt you might be inclined to assist with.”

  He replied with his sardonic smile. “And you have come to me? How extraordinary. Whatever it might be, you may consider me at your disposal.”

  “While I appreciate your graciousness, my lord, I would never accept such a blank check from anyone.”

  He inclined his head to a velvet-covered settee. “Then pray tell me what I can do for you.” He waited for her to settle her skirts and then joined her, draping an arm casually over the back. Diana shifted forward on the seat, all too aware of the tantalizing and unsettling fusion of sandalwood shaving soap and musky male. His proximity and scent were a combined assault that jangled her nerves and made her breath quicken. Diana fussed with a fold in her skirts, not daring to meet his gaze straight-on for fear he might be able to read her lustful thoughts.

  “It concerns the races tomorrow.” She glanced up to find DeVere studying her with an inscrutable expression. “I wish to make a late entry.”

  “But hasn’t Lord Reginald already entered a horse to race?”

  “He has, but there is another…a mare. I want to run her.”

  “There can only be one entry per owner.”

  “But I am the owner,” she said. “The mare is mine. We had brought her to Epsom for breeding, but now I wish her to race.”

  He looked puzzled. “You would wager against your own husband?”

  “Yes. My mare is the better horse.”

  His brows shot up. “That’s quite an extraordinary claim.”

  “She is an extraordinary mare. I raised this horse, my lord, bottle-fed her when her dam rejected her. She was such a puny thing, we never thought she’d survive, let alone race, but she’s fleet as a gazelle. In truth, I was glad to hear of the subscription race for mares.”

  “Ah, but you do not perceive my modus operandi.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I purchased this property to expand my racing stud and am in need of superior broodmares. How better to find the best than to see them run?”

  “Devious, indeed!” She laughed. “But won’t winning mares come at a premium price?”

  “Price is little object when I want something.” He gave her a meaningful smile. “But there is one thing I don’t understand. If what you say is true, why did your husband not enter this horse?”

  “Because my husband seems to have very fixed notions about the inferiority of females.”

  “Following the general principles of nature, I would have to agree with him. However, one does upon occasion discover some most remarkable specimens among your gender.” His gaze swept slowly over her, creating a wave of heat in its wake. “You are aware the entry fee is two hundred fifty pounds?”

  “Yes,” she said. It was a small fortune, yet a much larger one awaited the winner. “That is why I have come to you privately. I would like to keep this matter quiet. Just between us.” Reaching behind her neck with trembling hands, Diana fumbled to unclasp the double strand of pearls. The action thrust her breasts upward. DeVere’s eyes were fixed on her motions the entire time, an appreciative smile hovering over his mouth. His pupils flared with greater interest when the pearls suddenly released and dropped into her bodice.

  His lips twitched. “I don’t suppose you require any assistance?”

  Her stomach fluttered and she felt the heat of color suffuse her cheeks. “No, my lord. I can manage, thank you.” She retrieved the necklace and held the warm pearls in her hand for a long moment, gauging their weight against her decision. At length, she dropped them in her lap in front of him. “They are a family heirloom,” she said. “The clasp is diamond. I don’t have an appraisal, but I assure you they are worth at least half the subscription fee.”

  “And the other half?”

  “My mare, Cartimandua. She carries premium racing blood, and you’ve just said you wish to improve your racing stud.” Diana prayed she would not have to make that sacrifice.

  DeVere stared down at the pearls with a confounded frown. “A necklace and a horse? Do you take me for a pawnbroker, madam?”

  “No,” she said. “I take you for a gentleman. One who might be inclined to assist a lady in need.”

  “You appeal to my sense of chivalry?” DeVere laughed. “How droll to imagine anyone thinks I have one!”

  “I know you are aware of my tenuous circumstances. My husband has us on the brink of ruin.”

  DeVere frowned, neither confirming nor denying the statement. “And how came you by this information?”

  “I have no desire to discuss it.” She evaded his question. “But the way I see it, this race is my only hope of recovery. Of keeping what is rightly mine.”

  DeVere took up the necklace, lacing the pearls between his fingers as if admiring their luminescence. He looked into her face with an intense and assessing expression, a combination of interest and calculation that sent a scintillating shiver of awareness through her.

  “Your only hope?” he murmured. “Surely not. You lack imagination, my dear.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said. But perhaps I really do.

  Her breath seized when DeVere’s hand left the back of the settle. He trailed his fingers gently over her skin from her bared shoulder to her nape where he toyed with a loose curl. He maneuvered behind her, pearls in hand. “Oh, but I’m sure you do.”

  The light touch of his fingers whispering over her skin as he replaced the pearls sent flares of sensation plummeting to a place deep in her belly. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed with acute awareness of his all-too-masculine and too-close presence and his spicy sandalwood and male scent, but at the same time wanting nothing more than to drink him in. Her body tensed at his warm breath caressing her neck as softly as the words he murmured against her hair. “There is no need to be coy. There is at least one other, far better option for you to consider…and all you have to do is whisper one simple, little word.”

  One simple, little word. It was as if she’d fallen into her own erotic dream. You only have to say yes, and I will lay paradise at your feet.

  She quivered inside as he fastened the clasp. His lips scorched her nape, firing an agonizing ache in her womb and a descent of hot, wet heat that dampened her thighs. She dared not open her eyes. She dared not even breathe for fear of breaking the seductive spell woven by her satyr’s words, his caress, and the brush of his lips. His hand was metaphorically outstretched, and Diana felt the word taking shape in her mind, flowing outward, and forming itself on the tip of her tongue.

  “There you are, darling.” The voice of the duchess shattered the illusion with stark reality.

  “Bloody hell! God damned bloody hell!” Diana heard DeVere growl through his teeth.

  She looked up to find Caroline paused on the threshold between DeVere’s bedchamber and the sitting room. She shot Diana a virulent look “Why Baroness! What on earth could you be doing all alone with Lord DeVere in his private apartments? One could come to so many wicked conclusions, you know. I wonder what your husband would say?”

  “That’s enough, Caro!” DeVere snapped. “The lady and I had some private business to discuss.”

  She chuckled. “Darling,
there is only one kind of business I know of that requires you to put your hands on her body.”

  “You presume falsely, duchess. I was having trouble with the clasp.” Diana knew her protest was as feeble as her alibi. “But our business is most certainly complete.” Diana rose, anger at her own weakness fueling her words. “I see how mistaken I was to come here. I had even been forewarned what manner of man you are. Now I know there is only one kind of gallantry you understand. A good afternoon to you, my Lord DeVere.” Diana crossed the room in a fury of swishing silk.

  Caroline swiftly took the place she had abandoned by the viscount’s side.

  “Four o’clock,” he said, just as Diana’s hand touched the doorknob.

  Diana spun around. “Excuse me?”

  “I will see the mare run at four o’clock.”

  She almost forgot to breathe. “Then we have an agreement?”

  “A conditional agreement,” he responded. “I won’t allow you to hazard what little remains in your possession unless I deem her a true prospect to win.”

  “It is hardly your decision what I do with my jewels or my horse, but you won’t be disappointed,” Diana said.

  The corner of his lips twitched. “I hope not. Twice in one day would surely be more than I can bear.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “DARLING, WHEN YOU RETURN TO TOWN after entertaining these rustics, don’t you think we should make it official? I am three months out of mourning, after all. Not that our…arrangement is any particular secret.” Caroline chuckled as she traced circles around the flat disk of his nipple.

  Her words sounded a deafening alarm in his head, pulling Ludovic abruptly from his sex-sated stupor. He regarded Caroline from under a deceptively hooded gaze. “Official?” he drawled.

  “Of course. Now that Beauclerc no longer stands in our way, we are at last free to be together.”

  DeVere answered dryly, “By my count, we have already been together in as many ways as is humanly possible. Thus, it appears to me the good duke was never any true obstacle.”

  “You are entirely too wicked.” She laughed and raised herself up to straddle his belly. She rubbed her mons against him with a purr, reaching a hand behind to guide him into her, but not finding what she expected. “Is there a problem, my lord? I’ve never known your cock to require any encouragement.”

  “Perhaps it’s become bored with the menu?”

  “Bored!” She threw her powdered head back with a derisive laugh. “You lying whoreson! I’m the best you’ve ever had! You just don’t want to make an honest woman of me.”

  “All too true, my sweet. Did it never occur to you that it was precisely your unavailability that made up the greater part of your charm?”

  Her face contorted with rage, she drew back to strike him, but he caught her by both wrists. “Tsk, tsk, Caro. I think not!” He flipped her onto her back, caging her with his body.

  “I thought we would be good together, but I see now I’d only demean myself if attached to you.”

  He smirked. “But why would you even consider settling for a mere viscount after having a ducal coronet? As I recall, you once thought it a very poor bargain.”

  “Is that what this is truly about?” Her breathing was ragged, her gaze venomous. “Just some petty revenge because I once jilted you? How pathetic.”

  He thought she would make the effort now to push him off her, but she undulated beneath him instead, wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her hot core against him. He found himself hardening against his will.

  “Part of you still wants me,” she said with smug satisfaction. “You can’t deny it now.” No, he couldn’t; but then again, his cock always had defiantly refused to be ruled by his brain. “Very well, Caroline, I won’t deny it.” He gave her a fulsome smile as he thrust into her. “So let us just consider this our farewell fuck.”

  ***

  Diana left DeVere’s chambers in a peculiar daze comprised of equal parts anger, confusion, and lust. She had never been so affected by a man. All he had to do was look at her to set her skin tingling and pulse racing. It had taken little more than a touch and a suggestive word from him for her emptiness to expand and a powerful yearning to take hold of her body. When his lips had seared her skin, she had almost melted away—certainly her fine upstanding resolution had.

  Outwardly, she had reacted with the proper amount of righteous indignation, storming away as any virtuous woman would, yet now she wondered how virtuous she really was. The meaning of his parting comment was clear, and Diana wondered if a small part of her shared his disappointment.

  Deny it as she tried, she actually envied the freedom of those like the duchess and DeVere, people who broke convention and flouted society to take what they wanted and do as they pleased. She knew that many unhappy wives hired strapping, young footmen to satisfy their unfulfilled needs, but she told herself she wasn’t such a woman. If she was, wouldn’t she have taken a lover long ago? But then again, she’d never experienced the acute physical awareness, the profound magnetic pull that she felt with DeVere. God knows what might have happened had the duchess not interrupted them.

  Still, as much as Diana was drawn to him, she hated her vulnerability. He was unquestionably an expert in the arts of seduction. Even his best friend had warned her about him, but she had believed herself impervious to his mesmerizing charm. She now laughed at her own folly. The Viscount DeVere was a dangerous man indeed.

  With these thoughts pillaging her peace, Diana knocked on Annalee’s door.

  “Come in,” was the faint reply. Diana entered the apartments decorated in soothing shades of oyster and dusty rose damask to find Annalee had been dozing with a book in her lap. She gave Diana a tired smile. “Have you seen DeVere?”

  “Yes,” Diana said. “I have just come from speaking with him.”

  “And?” Annalee studied her intently.

  “Let us say Edward’s warning did not go astray.”

  Annalee’s eyes widened. “Did he importune you, Diana?”

  She considered her answer. “Not precisely, but his invitation was clear.”

  “The cad! You never should have spoken with him alone. Ned should have insisted—”

  “No, dearest. This was a matter I had to take into my own hands. As it stands, I feel we will come to an agreement.”

  “What do you mean? Has he not given you an answer?”

  “He said he wishes to see the horse run before he will make any decision.”

  “Then I give him credit for wisdom, anyway.” Annalee sighed. “That man is truly a conundrum. I doubt there is any woman capable of taming him.”

  “What of our darling duchess?” Diana asked

  “Caroline? I never did tell you that story, did I? She might have had him once, you know. They had an understanding, but the very night before Ludovic was to petition her father for her hand, she threw him over for the duke.”

  “Did she? It seems she harbors regrets now.”

  “She might, but he certainly does not!” Annalee laughed.

  “But isn’t she his mistress?”

  “DeVere is no fool. Despite her designs on him, that’s all she’ll ever be.”

  “So he uses her?” Diana said.

  “It is my understanding she came uninvited. The hussy deserves what she gets.”

  “Such condemnation!” Diana laughed. “I didn’t think you had it in you, dearest.”

  “DeVere is a rogue, but he once had honorable intentions toward her. Though he vehemently denied it at the time, I think she hurt him badly. I hold her much to blame that he’s never settled down. I wonder now if he ever will.” Annalee yawned.

  “How are you feeling, Annalee?”

  “Excessively drained,” Annalee confessed. “I have no energy and often wish that I could sleep the day away. It takes what little reserves I have to keep Ned from hovering over me. He worries so. I told him I want nothing more than to give him a son, but after the last miscarriage…” Her
lip quivered slightly at the word. “…and my extended recovery, he swore he wouldn’t allow it to happen again.” Annalee rubbed her belly with a shy smile. “But fortunately, I am blessed with a passionate man. Oh!” she cried out suddenly.

  “What is it?” Diana exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

  Annalee gave her an ebullient smile. “I am wonderful! I just felt little Ned kick me! Come, Diana!” She sat upright and patted the cushion beside her. “See if you can feel it too.”

  Diana perched gingerly on the divan and laid a light hand on her cousin’s belly.

  “Here,” Annalee said, laying her own hand firmly on top. Both women held their breath until Diana sensed the faintest flutter. “Is that movement?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Yes!” Annalee laughed, her eyes alight with joy. “It was! I can’t wait to tell Ned.”

  “I am so happy for you both,” Diana said. “I only wish I could also have had a child…”

  Annalee’s smile disappeared. “Do you not think there is any chance you and Reggie…”

  “No,” Diana said flatly. “There is none. I only want it to be over now.”

  “I am so sorry.” Annalee squeezed her hand in sympathy.

  “So am I,” Diana said, plucking at her skirts. “I have been very unhappy in this marriage, Annalee, but I know that is the lot of many women. Unions like yours with Edward are exceedingly rare. We never had what you and Edward have together. The affection…the passion. If only Reggie had shown me a modicum of kindness and respect, I would have resigned myself to carry on.”

  “Even in the beginning?” Annalee asked. “Are you saying he never showed you attention or cared for your pleasure?”

  “Pleasure?” Diana laughed bitterly. “You mean in the marriage bed? Never. It was a most unpleasant experience.”

  “It often is in the very beginning,” agreed Annalee. “But it never improved?”

  “On the contrary, it got much worse, became intolerable.” Diana averted her gaze. “At first, I thought it was me. He accused me of being frigid and said it was my fault…”