“So certain I fancy you? Forgive me for upsetting your plans for the evening. However, your type fails to appeal to me on countless levels.”
His brows rose marginally. “We both know you will be under me within minutes if we remain,” he murmured, noting the sudden flush stealing down her throat. “If I hand you another drink, you will accept. You will then pretend to spill it while I pretend to behave chivalrously and dry you off. Instead, my hand will slip under your skirt…”
Her eyes widened in shock.
“…it will find its way up your thigh,” he continued. “Our lips will meet, and you will return my kisses, quite ardently, may I add. One thing will lead to the next. An easy seduction, but I don’t want easy, not where you are involved. Yesterday, you were prepared to surrender your virginity. With considerable effort, I managed to abstain due to the fact we were at the clinic. Tonight, there is no cause to restrict our desire.”
Her mouth gaped open.
“Follow me.” He stood abruptly and offered his hand. “Walk with me in the garden.” He forced himself to banish each wicked thought of reclining her backward on the couch and selfishly fucking her. As long as the girls were safely tucked in bed, he knew Caleb and the others would grant him privacy. “Fresh air will do us both good.”
For a moment, she stared at his outstretched hand as though afraid to accept. Afraid of what would happen if their skin came in contact. Finally, she looked up at him, crossing her arms over her chest in a stubborn, childish fashion. “I don’t wish to go outside with you.”
“Very well,” he said coolly, walking toward the door. “I’ll lock the door so we won’t be disturbed.”
Jumping to her feet, she rushed past him. “I’ve decided a bit of air will do me good. Which way to the garden?”
Once outside, a spectacular sunset filled the sky with a brilliant indigo and splashes of gold beyond the horizon. On the terrace, the early spring air held a slight chill. They descended the steps, making their way to the garden in silence.
She began to shiver.
Without a word, he removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. He was mindful that if he offered verbally she would presumably decline out of obstinacy.
“An act of chivalry,” she said evenly, but the gleam in her eyes told him she genuinely appreciated the gesture. That minor acceptance told him his goal advanced a little. Yet something deeper told him it was major on her part. He’d met women like her before, strong-minded and proud. They refused to accept a man’s assistance for any reason. To accept his jacket without complaint took a great amount of effort and compromise. He couldn’t help but smile internally.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from wrapping his arms around her in the pretense of warming her. In truth, he longed to hold her close, breathe in her deliciously arousing fragrance. Just being in her presence was enough for now.
They strolled down a tree-lined path. Through the soft shadows underneath the canopy of black cherry trees, fringes of twilight guided their way, rustling branches releasing an aromatic scent that heightened his senses. With each step, the silence seemed to grow thick with tension.
“Katherine, I must confess,” Randolph muttered, unable to delay a moment longer.
She tilted her face slightly, looking at him through her thick lashes, smiling at him with her eyes, the picture of innocence and sensuousness rolled into one.
His pulse raced. “Megan extended a dinner invitation upon my urging. I had to see you again.”
“Since you’re compelled to confess, so shall I. Gretchen’s biscuits are beyond dreadful. My sincerest gratitude is yours for saving me from retiring with an empty belly once again. I imagine my weight has been reduced by several pounds since my arrival.”
“Do you care to learn why I arranged our meeting?”
“You have made your intention quite obvious.”
Her demure expression assured him she was at the very least receptive. It was now or never. He stopped in the middle of the path.
After another step, she noticed he did not follow and twirled to face him. “Is there something the matter?”
“Katherine, you’re adamant in regards to keeping your private life private. I make no demands on your past. I see no need in discovering why you travel unescorted or came to my office, and least of all, who awaits you on the other side of the ocean. My only wish is come dawn, you miss boarding your ship.”
She stared at him, apparently stunned by his impassioned admission.
“Stay with me,” he continued, the words stumbling fast. Never had he made such a proposal in his life, and he found himself quite nervous. “Allow me to care for you. Provide you a home of your own. Every comfort my wealth affords will be at your disposal. Say yes, and you’ll never need worry about tomorrow.”
For much too long, she stared blankly at the emptiness ahead. When her eyes found his, seething indignation churned in their emerald depths.
He braced himself.
“I failed to hear the mention of marriage. Am I to assume your solicitation includes want of my body only?” Her voice trembled with anger.
Yes. “It’s not like that. As my companion—”
“No!” she hotly replied with the power of an iron mallet, shattering his male pride. “I’ll be no man’s plaything.”
“What finer offer do you have waiting?” Randolph quietly rejoined, finding it insufferable that he offended her, yet hating it even more that she so readily turned him down without serious consideration. “A scoundrel not duty bound to escort you, let alone provide enough funds for decent accommodations. What sort of a man who would leave you solely with the burden of protection against illegitimate offspring? The sort who would probably have you whoring for him by the end of the month.”
“My life is not your concern.” She tossed him a dismissive glance while brushing past him. “I wish to remove myself from your presence.”
“Is that what you want?” He caught up to her and spun her around. “You’d rather be treated like a second-rate prostitute, the lowest of low wenches at the Blow-n-Go Tavern who sells her body at any price.”
“Unhand me before I…I—” She squirmed in his firm grasp.
“Before you what?” He pulled her hard against him, his lips inches from hers. He heard her needy gasp, felt her breasts heave against his chest. The heat of her nipples burned through their clothes. “My pockets are deep.”
“You couldn’t afford me.” She shut her eyes and turned her face away. Despite her faint protest, he sensed she fought for breath.
“Look at me.” He responded to her challenge, gently tilting her chin to face him. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
“Remove your hands,” she warned in a weakened voice, eyes ablaze with desire.
He gazed down at her a moment, and a delicious languor washed over her expression. He knew then the irrepressible feelings she raised in him mirrored her own. “I’d be inclined to believe you if your lovely eyes did not betray your words. Your body is ripe, warm, and softening against me. You want me as much as I want you.”
She bit her bottom lip, trembled against him as the fingers on his other hand traced her jawline, trailing down the satiny length of her throat.
“Shall I prove it? Take you here and now.” His hand continued past her shoulder over the length of her back, feeling the curves of her heavenly figure. The fragrance of her skin and hair permeated his senses.
“Please, no more,” she begged, but her yielding body surrendered to him.
“Tell me you don’t want my touch.” One hand caressed the soft swell of her breast through the fabric, and the other hand moved behind her neck to undo the clasp that held her bodice together. With a practiced hand, he swept the bodice and chemise off her shoulders, revealing the snowy expanse of her breasts. His starving mouth closed over a taut nipple then suckled gently.
Her fingers tangled in his hair. His tongue rolled over the tender rosebud, causing her to arc
h into him, thrust her firm, round flesh into his awaiting mouth.
“Feel how hard I am,” he groaned moments later, rising to look at her response. He nudged his erection between her thighs and watched her eyelashes flutter against her cheek. He felt a sense of delight in her excited state and wanted desperately to introduce her to her more sensuous nature.
“You’re wicked,” she murmured under the dual assault of his arousal grinding against her mound through the thin, cotton barrier and his lips and tongue exploring the creamy white flesh of her shoulder blade.
“You’re trembling. Tell me you do not like it, you do not want to feel a man’s hard cock between your thighs,” he whispered against her ear, taking her hand and placing it upon his erection, all the time observing as her swollen breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing.
She moaned softly, moving her quivering fingers over the buttons of his fly as though contemplating releasing his confined weapon.
“Have you ever seen a man’s stiff prick, touched it, tasted it? Felt the raw heat rubbing against your body, eager to gain entry to that wet place between your legs?” He quickly released his cock, stiff and hard as marble. Guiding her slender hand, he moaned deep in his throat as he moved her fingers up and down his length until she found a rhythm all her own.
She panted for breath as she stroked and massaged him, learned just how to please him.
He fought the desire to devour her with his mouth, delve his tongue deep between her lips, mimicking what he was dying to do with his cock. “Curious, Katherine? Do you want to see it, experience the real remedy for what ails you? Look down, see what you do to me.”
She licked her rosy lips, yet her eyes remained tightly shut. Her body shuddered, burned with need, so much so he could smell the womanly scent of her arousal.
“Tell me your body aches, yearns for me. We’ll steal away. I’ll make love to you slow and tenderly. Bring you to climax again and again.” He slanted his mouth inches above hers, groaned at the white-hot and raging need hardening his entire body, waiting for her to acquiesce, to utter the word that would make her his.
“Dr. Sinclair,” she whispered almost inaudibly.
“Tonight, you’re a woman.” He brushed his cheek gently against the silkiness of hers. “And I am your obedient servant whose only wish is to please you.”
“There you are.” Caleb’s voice startled them, jerking them apart.
Cassie turned crimson from her red hair to the tips of her slender fingers. Clutching the front of her bodice, she darted behind the nearest tree.
Randolph’s heart pumped out of control with the intense arousal heating his blood. His eyes narrowed on Caleb ambling along the path toward them.
“I’ve been searching for you two. Katherine, your hansom cab arrived on schedule.”
Randolph glared a fierce, silent warning at Caleb, still several feet away. He shouted in a husky, lust-thickened voice over his shoulder while he redid his breeches. “Don’t you have something to do?”
“No, I don’t have a thing to do,” Caleb replied with a blithe expression that only provoked Randolph further.
Helplessly, Randy watched Katherine move farther away from him, struggling to right her dress rapidly. He turned to Caleb. “Yes! You said you had a very important engagement,” he insisted more firmly. He reached out for her when she started toward the house and managed to take hold of her wrist.
“What engagement? I don’t have an engagement.” Caleb shook his head, shrugging his shoulders as though he hadn’t a clue to what Randolph referred.
She smiled timidly at Caleb. Her dress and hair were tousled. The blush upon her cheeks now faded to a charming shade of rose.
The dear girl was an intriguing departure from his typical amorous companions. Intuitively, he had taken advantage of her naiveté. Any other female would have laughed off the ordeal, soliciting a diamond trinket or new gown in the process, perhaps even invited Caleb to join them. He sighed heavily, feeling disgusted for humiliating her in front of his friend, soon to be his ex-acquaintance.
She leaned in close and whispered in Randolph’s ear. “’Tis a shame you’re not a doctor tonight. For a moment, I felt overcome with a bout of hysteria. Do not attempt to follow me, for I am positive the moment was inimitable.”
Randolph watched Katherine walk out of his life, stunned beyond measure.
Chapter 7
“Abandon your modesty if you wish to occupy yourself at The Exchange. Otherwise, mademoiselle, toil elsewhere. Such a marked display of prudery is worthless in this world. We operate a legitimate, highly regarded business. We have no time to waste on vain whores.”
Cassie raked her gaze over Madame de Vane as she spoke in a harsh tone, defiling the beauty of the French language. The gray-haired woman of fifty-some years sat rigidly behind a desk constructed of a thick plate of glass atop four stone pillars. It appeared she, too, had turned into stone. Her pinched face lacked expression, and her thin body rarely altered from where it was carved. Out of teeny slits, only her black eyeballs seemed to shift. Eerily, they followed Cassie’s slightest move.
Directly in front of the female statue sat a notepad and ink bottle with feathered quill. To the woman’s left sat a single stack of files about a foot high. Meticulously organized personal, medical, and family history were inside each file along with other data normally required when seeking employment. Except this was no ordinary place of employment, and many of the questions asked were extremely sexual in nature. They made Cassie blush. Aside from her measurements, nearly every piece of information in her file was fabricated.
Two female examiners circled Cassie, who stood barefoot in an ostentatious room with massive columns, satin tapestries, and a marble floor so finely polished her reflection shined back at her. Though elaborate in detail, the majestic ballroom was sparsely furnished with only the glass desk, three chairs, and a velvet divan large enough for half a dozen people. Witnessing the favored adornments—nude sculptures flaunting enhanced genitalia and floor-to-ceiling murals of scores of people performing sexual acts—it appeared she had traveled back in time to a grand palace set in ancient Rome. An appropriate backdrop since The Exchange was also legendary for orgies of epic proportions.
Of the two examiners, Jayne made her feel uncomfortable when her amber eyes roamed slowly over her figure. Jayne was a middle-aged, British woman with chestnut hair and a slender face that had started to show its age. Polly, younger of the two, appeared to be American. Petite and attractive with dark golden hair and bright blue eyes, she couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Cassie thought it odd that all three women were carefully groomed and stylishly clothed. Yet they seemed either annoyed or bored by her refusal to abide by the posted rules.
In nothing more than a scarlet robe of watered silk, rule number one kept running through her mind—relinquish all clothing upon entry. Her clothes were tightly clenched in one hand and shoes in the other. There went that rule. Rule number two made absolutely no sense to her. Staff is to wear only the prescribed uniform when shift is to begin. What uniform? She hadn’t seen a uniform, and she certainly hadn’t been hired. At least no one came out and told her she was hired. But it was rule number three that was the most troublesome rule of them all—obey without question. She had always been stubborn as the day was long. How was she to accomplish her goal if she allowed her stubbornness to control her emotions? According to her mother, Cassie emerged straight from the womb rebelling. There was absolutely no hope for her of ever being chosen to work at The Exchange.
Placement was highly coveted. So said the women who anxiously awaited their turns to parade naked in front of the examiners to determine if their bodies were suitable for debauchery. There were a dozen or so eager females in an outer room ready and willing to replace her. Several more failed to meet the clothed test, turned away at first glance. Apparently, not all females met the high standards associated with licentiousness and depravity.
Cassie was the only o
ne brave enough, or rather, foolish enough, to remove a robe from the dressing room shelves. Bare ass on cold marble for hours on end wasn’t exactly her idea of coziness. No one mentioned the ridiculous rules posted by the entrance applied to applicants. She thought the sign was someone’s idea of a joke. Who knew brothels were so strict? Weren’t women born suitably equipped? Why was the hiring process so intense? First a series of probing questions, then a comprehensive medical exam, followed by these bizarre women? What next?
Over the years, a strong-willed determination had served Cassie well. Now more than ever, she drew from that strength. She decided her battles had to be chosen carefully. After a deep breath, she handed her clothes to Jayne, along with her robe. Per instructions, her hair was fastened in a taut knot on top of her head to provide an unobstructed view. She stared boldly into the old woman’s cold eyes while Jayne put her things aside. Aware her nipples were already hard from the sudden chill, she watched Madame’s gaze drift over her naked exhibition and pause briefly at her breasts.
Cassie gloated internally when the old woman finally turned up her nose in apparent approval, obvious by the instant haughtiness lining her face.
“Customers prefer your hair match the natural red of your pubic hair,” remarked the old woman, her tone prickly.
Before docking in Paris, Cassie had cut her long locks just beyond shoulder length and dyed her red hair black. If anyone searched for her, they would seek an entirely different woman. She replied dryly, “I prefer black.”
Polly and Jayne ignored her remark and began to touch her. Their hands felt their way all over her body, as if searching for the minutest of scars and imperfections. Her arms moved up and down. Her body turned this way and that way. Every inch of skin was poked and prodded while Madame de Vane took notes.
Cruise, Samantha - Devil's Promise: The Garden [The Devil's Playground 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 13