Caine's Curse

by Josie Dennis

The countess turned to her. “Yes, thank you, Iris. I’ll more than likely retire early this evening.”

  “I’ll await the bell, Lady Hawksfell.”

  Iris bobbed a curtsy, gave the earl a small smile, and left their chambers. The affection, the passion, was so thick in that room Iris would have to be deaf and dumb not to notice. She’d seen the same expression on Michael Crowley’s face whenever he was with the earl and the countess, as well.

  Would she ever have such a connection in her life? She had no family left in this world. She supposed that the housekeeper and staff at the manor made a family of sorts. That was true. She had whatever this attraction was between her and Peter, which she could never explore. And now that the latest Hawk had arrived at Hawksfell?

  She hadn’t missed how fit he looked. She was a young woman of twenty-one years, after all. She could judge a man’s physique, couldn’t she? She had admired Peter’s lean, muscled form for months now, even through his pressed uniform. Lord Burnley was a bit taller. Broader. Stronger looking.

  He looked much like the earl, which was no real surprise. To a man, each and every Hawk had that stamp of resemblance. Lord Burnley’s hair was sun-streaked, however. That touch of distinction only added to his appeal. When he’d turned his dark Hawk eyes on her out on the drive several hours ago? Oh, her heart had pounded and her belly fluttered.

  “Don’t be silly,” she told herself as she hurried down the back steps.

  “Silly about what?” Peter asked.

  She sucked in a breath. She’d thought she was alone, for her hours were quite different from those of the rest of the staff. That was only more apparent as the countess kept earlier and earlier hours.

  “Peter!”

  He smiled at her, his hazel eyes twinkling. “Iris, you are quite a picture when you blush.”

  Her hands flew to her cheeks. “Am I blushing?”

  He gave a slow nod. She took note then that he stood two steps below her, bringing his beautiful face nearly to her eye level.

  He cupped her face, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. “There is no one near at the moment, Iris love.”

  She swallowed thickly, her pulse racing now. “L-love?”

  “You are a love, Iris. Perhaps not mine, not yet, but you are a beautiful and passionate creature.”

  Biting her lip, she tried to gather her thoughts. She knew she was attractive. Most lady’s maids were, as long as the lady’s husband didn’t have a wandering eye. But beautiful?

  “Peter, you mustn’t say such things.” Oh, but when he said such things she wanted him to hold her and never let her go!

  “Yes, I must.” He brought his lips to hers. “I must also kiss you before we lose this blessed privacy.”

  Her lips parted, though she didn’t know what she might say to him. He pressed his mouth to hers, his caress gentle and lingering. Her body tingled at every point of contact, her hands on his shoulders, his hands on her waist, and her breasts against his chest.

  The kiss ended much too quickly but just in time, apparently. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Peter was suddenly an arms’ length away from her.

  “It’s nearly dinner time,” one of the footmen said as he hurried past them on the way upstairs.

  It didn’t concern Iris, but Peter nodded.

  “I’m off to see to Lord Burnley,” he told the servant.

  When they were alone again, Peter took her in his arms. “Forgive me, Iris. I had to know just how it would be, if we kissed again.”

  “And how is that?” she asked on a breath.

  He kissed her quickly and started up the stairs. “Astounding.”

  With that he was gone, and she was left gripping the railing to hold herself upright. She was a wanton, losing herself in Peter’s kiss. She’d felt a tingling, of course. But there was something more. Something just out of reach.

  She suspected it was the lure of a connection that she so craved. And one she couldn’t dare seek. Or could she? Her body quivered at the prospect, and she continued down the stairs toward the servants’ hall.

  * * * *

  Caine paced his very handsome guest chamber, completely befuddled. Gabriel had said he’d see evidence of happiness, but the reality of the happy Hawks seated around the dining table had been more than he could have imagined.

  The earl’s half-brother Matthew Hawk had attended as promised, with his pretty and obviously adored wife, Posy. Patrick Hawk and the earl’s former man-of-affairs, Thomas Grantley, were there, as well, along with Patrick’s wife, Mary. In that particular trio, Caine spied a glimmer of something among the three of them, which was mirrored by the clear affection between the countess and her third cousin, Michael Crowley.

  Everyone was quite affable, and the gentlemen were very welcoming toward Caine. For his part, he was nearly overwhelmed from the experience. He’d gone so long with only Reeves as company, outside of his ever-changing sexual partners. Dinners were not a time of camaraderie, and the Hawks had shared jokes and barbs with equal doses and no evident rancor this evening.

  “What the devil is this place?” he murmured as he loosened his necktie. “It cannot be real.”

  “Pardon, my lord?”

  He looked over toward the doorway and saw that the handsome footman, Peter, stood there. “Please ignore my mutterings, Peter.”

  Peter’s auburn head tipped to one side. “You can talk freely here, Lord Burnley. I am serving you during your visit, and never carry tales.”

  “Truly?” Caine crossed his arms, some of his unease lifting at the sight of the servant’s open, earnest expression. “So you’re to be my valet and my confessor?”

  “Pardon?” Peter’s fair skin reddened, and his lush mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

  Caine shook his head. “This has been a very unusual evening, Peter.”

  Peter blinked, and then crossed to the dressing table. “If you would like an ear, I’m an excellent listener.”

  As he busied himself with the arrangements of items on the top of it, Caine studied his smooth athletic movements.

  “I’m not accustomed with such revelations,” Caine admitted.

  Peter turned to face him again. “If it helps, I can divulge a bit of a secret about myself first.”

  This made Caine smile. “Do you have a past then, Peter?”

  Peter smiled, as well, and the expression was bright and light. “I’m afraid not.” He removed Caine’s jacket with care and set it aside. “But I did something just a few hours ago that, by all likely accounts, I shouldn’t have.”

  Caine lifted his chin and began to unfasten his own collar. “And yet you don’t look as if you feel the slightest bit guilty about it.”

  “I do not.” Peter removed Caine’s shirt and held out his dressing gown. “I should, but I do not.”

  Caine slipped on the quilted satin robe, and then settled in the oversized chair set beside the tidy yet opulent hearth. “You must divulge this indiscretion, Peter.”

  Peter looked away, and for a moment Caine was struck by his obvious vulnerability. He was a servant, after all. He was dependent on the earl for his livelihood. Caine was seized with an empathy he’d never felt before.

  “You have my word that nothing leaves this room, Peter. Now, please have a seat.”

  Peter’s eyes rounded, but at Caine’s nod of encouragement, he complied. He wrung his hands for a moment, and then shrugged. “I kissed her.”

  This disclosure came as no surprise to Caine. He might not know the identity of this female target of Peter’s affections, but the man had an unconscious sensuality that was clearly as attractive to women as it was to Caine at the moment.

  “You kissed her. Is that all?”

  “You don’t understand, my lord.”

  “Peter, we’re in my guest chamber. We are trading secrets. I believe you may call me Caine in these environs.”

  Peter’s mouth thinned to a line, and then he nodded. “As you wish. I cannot a
fford to be dismissed, Caine.”

  “Whyever would you be dismissed? Never say the lady in question is the earl’s own?”

  Those hazel eyes widened. “Never!”

  Caine held up a hand. “I didn’t believe it even as I said it, Peter. Then who is this woman whom you couldn’t resist?”

  Peter let out an audible breath and dropped his gaze to the fine carpet. “Iris.”

  The name meant nothing to Caine, but by the remembered bliss evident on Peter’s face, she was indeed something.

  “Who, pray, is Iris?”

  Peter’s gaze snapped back to Caine. “She’s the lady’s maid. Oh, she’s a beautiful creature.”

  “Ah, I saw her. She is quite something.”

  “So sweet.”

  “You love her?”

  Peter bristled. “I don’t know about that, but I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel about her.” He gave a shake of his head. “But enough about my secret. I believe you have something you wished to divulge?”

  Caine shrugged. “I suppose I do. I’m just a bit befuddled by the Hawk family dinner this evening.”

  “Was the food or the service not to your liking?”

  Caine gave him a small smile. “The cook is quite talented, and you and the others were more than efficient, Peter. I was speaking about the atmosphere.”

  “Matthew Hawk was there, Caine. He’s a very friendly person.”

  “He is, and I enjoyed getting to know some of my heretofore unknown relatives.”

  “Then what was the issue?”

  “They’re all happy.”

  There. He’d said it. As he did, his throat grew tight and his eyes hot. Was he actually going to cry in front of his valet? He’d seldom cried in front of Reeves, and even that was years ago.

  “Is happiness so unusual?”

  “It is for me.”

  Peter reached across and placed a hand on Caine’s thigh. “You’ve never been happy?”

  Caine caught the speculation in Peter’s gaze. “I’m not speaking of sexual gratification, Peter.”

  Peter lifted his hand, and Caine missed the contact. “I wasn’t, either.”

  “No matter. It seems that only the physical can be satisfied, and not for very long.”

  Peter nodded. “You are a Hawk.”

  “And that means what, precisely?”

  “I only know what I’ve observed.”

  “What, pray, have you observed?”

  “The earl and his…arrangement. Matthew Hawk’s marriage.”

  “They both seem very happy, Peter. Patrick Hawk, as well.”

  “I cannot speak to all of their marriages, but it does seem to me that whatever curse might truly exist?” Peter reached out and covered Caine’s fisted hand with his own. “Perhaps love is the cure.”

  Chapter Four

  Peter saw the heat flare in Lord Burnley’s eyes, and an answering hunger pulled at his belly. It was swift. Compelling. And nearly as intriguing as the haunted expression that had played over his handsome face.

  “Forgive me if I’ve overstepped, my lord.”

  The other man stood quickly, tugging Peter to his feet in one smooth motion. “Caine, Peter.”

  Peter searched his face and saw the heady combination of hesitancy and raw need. He was seized with the urge to kiss him, to taste him, as he’d been when he’d kissed Iris.

  “I want to kiss you, Caine.”

  Caine smiled, a slow and sensual expression, and brought his brow to his. “Then, do.”

  He was slightly taller than Peter, but their bodies brushed at all the most sensitive parts. Chest to chest. Groin to groin. Mouth to mouth. Peter caught his lips with his own, groaning softly as their mouths melded.

  Caine gripped the back of his head, tilting slightly to drive his tongue into Peter’s mouth. This kiss was hot. Intense. And filled with the same yearning he’d tasted in Iris.

  As their tongues mated, Peter cupped Caine’s face. Grinding against him, he grew hard in his trousers. Caine was stiff, as well, and quite large, judging from the size of him against Peter’s lower belly.

  “God, Peter.” Caine kissed his throat, nipping at the side of his neck. “I’ve never felt such a kiss.”

  Peter’s eyes were closed, and he let his head fall back. “I’ve never kissed a man,” he admitted on a breath.

  “What of more?” Caine’s voice was harsh, rough, as his hands settled on Peter’s ass. “Have you ever had a man?”

  “Never.” Peter managed to swallow and faced Caine. “I’ve never wanted to until now.”

  Caine kissed him again. “What of your Iris?”

  Peter felt another stab of wanting at the mere mention of her name. “I may never have Iris.”

  Caine flashed a smile, his dark Hawk eyes glinting. “That is patently untrue, but we’ll address that after.”

  Peter’s breath caught. “After?”

  He dropped his robe. “After I have you, Peter.”

  Peter nodded, and they undressed each other. Caine’s dress didn’t take overlong, as he’d only kept on his trousers earlier. His big hands made quick work of Peter’s uniform, and they were soon both naked. Clearly aroused. And in that moment they were on equal footing.

  “Do you want me, Caine?”

  Caine nodded. “I want you, Peter. I want to fuck you.”

  Peter’s pulse pounded anew, his body pulled tight. “Please.”

  They began to kiss again, stroking each other and catching each other’s moans in their mouths. Peter was so close to climax just from Caine’s sure handling, and Caine’s cock grew impossibly larger in his hands. He’d never loved a man, let alone permitted such an intimacy on his person. Yet, with this particular man, he was eager to taste this passion.

  “Please, Caine,” he urged again. “Take me.”

  Caine groaned and turned Peter to hold him in his strong arms. Caine’s cock was pressed against Peter’s ass, and Peter nearly came just from that contact.

  Caine reached around to grasp Peter’s cock again, nibbling at his neck as he stroked him. “I need to be inside you.”

  Peter stepped out of his hold for a moment, making Caine shout in frustration. He searched through the top drawer of the dressing table, seeking the small jar he’d noticed while readying this room for its latest guest. He found it, and brought the cream back to Caine.

  “This should ease your way,” he said as he handed it to him.

  Caine blinked, then recognition dawned on his face. “Very clever, Peter.” He kissed Peter again, then dipped a finger into the jar and sniffed. “Wildflowers.”

  Peter nodded. “The cream smells like Iris,” he thought aloud.

  “Truly?” A smile tilted his sculpted lips. “Then this is most fitting.”

  Peter’s body shook as Caine dipped a finger into his ass. Leaning toward the dressing table, he braced himself for Caine’s entry. Two fingers stretched him now, urging him to relax even as their passions rose. Resting one hand on the table’s surface, he wrapped the other around his cock as Caine began to enter him.

  “You’re tight, Peter.” Caine kissed the back of Peter’s neck as he pushed further. “Hot and tight and perfect.”

  Peter cried out as Caine fully entered him. It was astounding, and he began to tremble. Beads of sweat broke out on his body, and Caine’s heated form pressed closer to him as he began to thrust in and out.

  “Caine!”

  Peter couldn’t say anything more, not as his climax was rushing toward him. With every thrust, with every kiss, he climbed higher.

  Caine began to moan, punctuating his thrusts with the most erotic sounds. When his big body began to shudder, Peter knew he was close. That was his last coherent thought as his own climax screamed through his body.

  Caine joined him a short time after, clutching at him as he finished with short pumps inside of Peter. As their bodies cooled, Caine withdrew and Peter gripped the edge of the dressing table.

  “I’ve never felt th
at before.” He collected himself and straightened before facing Caine. “That intensity.”

  Caine kissed him again. “It’s part and parcel of being a Hawk.”

  Peter blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s my compulsion, Peter. I overwhelmed you.”

  “While that might be true, I do not believe I would have that reaction with just any Hawk.”

  A shadow passed over Caine’s face. “I appreciate that sentiment.”

  “It is not only sentiment, but you’re very welcome.”

  Caine donned his robe as Peter pulled on his trousers. “I hope you have no issue with serving me during my stay?” He held up a hand. “Not sexually, pray. As my valet.”

  Peter found a smile. “No issue whatsoever, Caine.”

  “And what will you do about sweet Iris?”

  “What can I do?”

  “Kiss her again. Taste her. Hell, bring her to me and we’ll both overwhelm her.”

  The image of both of them loving Iris made Peter’s belly twist again. “I don’t believe any such thing would come to pass, but it is indeed something to consider.”

  “You’re a sweet man, Peter.” Caine’s eyes held tenderness now. “She’ll see that.”

  Peter didn’t answer, but nodded to bring this conversation to an end. Peter finished dressing and, after sharing another kiss, he left Caine to himself and exited the guest chamber.

  Stilling in the corridor, Peter closed his eyes and reveled in the afterglow of the incredible act he’d just experienced. No doubt the two of them would continue on as such for however long Caine’s visit lasted. As to his last comment about Iris?

  That woman was still far from Peter’s reach, and tempting her to put both their positions in jeopardy for the sake of momentary sexual gratification? That was something that would surely never come to pass.

  And that realization caused sadness to cut through his sexual satisfaction like a jagged blade.

  * * * *

  Iris made her way from the countess’s room early the next afternoon. The day had passed in its usual fashion, or what was swiftly becoming such. There was one glaring difference between yesterday and today, however. Peter hadn’t teased or flirted with her. In fact, he seemed to handle her with a tentativeness he’d never before exhibited. He most assuredly hadn’t kissed her again.