Something Reckless

by Jess Michaels

  She dipped her chin. “We are friends, aren’t we? Friends might refer to each other by their given names and it wouldn’t be improper. As long as we continue to use titles in front of others.”

  Jeremy frowned. There it was again. Her unbending resolve to remain proper, at least in public. To fight what she desired in the public eye.

  “Yes, I suppose. As for what you said about others wishing to silence you, it is true, you have created enemies with your words. But if you know yourself, know your own heart, then what others say shouldn’t matter to you.”

  She looked up at him, surprise in her expression. “Do you know yourself and your own heart?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t accustomed to talking about himself. His friends didn’t require such openness, and his lovers had always known their place was only in his bed. He was very rarely pushed beyond the comfortable distance he chose to maintain.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, mostly to stall for time.

  She shrugged. “Your behavior used to be quite different. You were known for your excess, your sinful lusts.” He thought he detected a very slight shiver when she said the word lust, but he couldn’t be sure as she continued. “And now you claim to be changed. What made you the man you were before? And what has turned you to the man you now claim to be?”

  Such direct questions. And now that she had asked them, he wasn’t certain he truly knew the answers she sought. He was the man he was. He’d never paused to ask why. He’d never considered any other path.

  Until now. Drinking tea with a woman he was lying to. Now he considered the truth of his life.

  “I know I was shaped by my family,” Penelope continued before he was forced to answer her pointed question.

  He breathed a sigh of relief before he pressed her. “Your sister, you mean.”

  She nodded, and her cheeks pinkened again. “Yes, by Miranda and what I uncovered about her true nature. But Miranda’s lies weren’t my only influence. My parents had a great impact on my life.”

  Jeremy wasn’t quite able to stifle a shiver at the thought of Penelope’s mother, Dorthea Albright. The entire ton was aware of the overbearing woman, who seemed entirely oblivious to how her outrageous behavior actually hurt her younger daughters’ chances in the marriage mart.

  “I see from your expression that you know my mother,” Penelope said with a slight smile that softened her haggard expression. “She is…difficult, I know. Growing up in the shadow of her moods, of her criticisms, of her drive for more and more and more…that certainly shaped me. I realized, quite young, that I would be expected to better our family’s situation. So it wasn’t only Miranda’s behavior that drove me to marry to financial gain.”

  Jeremy found himself leaning in. Very few women were so frank. At least with him.

  But then, he doubted Penelope would have been so frank with him in the past, before they were, as she put it, friends. A false friend he might be, but he found himself interested in what she had to say, nonetheless.

  “What about your father?” he asked. “He must have had some influence on you.”

  “Oh, he did.” Her voice was even softer, and a sadness entered her eyes. “He was a dear man in many respects. He loved me and my sisters, I truly believe that. He was kind in every way that my mother was harsh. But he lived in a world of excess.”

  Jeremy looked at her in question. “You mean—”

  She interrupted. “No, not sensual excess.” She frowned. “Not that I ever knew of. But he gambled, he raced, he could never quite get a handle on his vices, even when they began to ruin him, ruin our family. His selfish needs became more important than our comfort and even our survival.”

  Jeremy nodded. It made her quest against such selfish behavior all the more understandable. She had seen and felt the consequences of excessive behavior. First from her father, later from her sister.

  “What about you?” she asked as she leaned back. “I know very little of your family. You must have been shaped by them.”

  Jeremy shifted, no more comfortable about talking about his family now than he had been when she first broached the subject. “I suppose that must be true, but I have never thought much about it.”

  Penelope frowned. “You have a brother, yes? Are you close?”

  Jeremy straightened up. “Yes, well, no.”

  She let out a little laugh. “Which one is it?”

  “Both.” He smiled, despite the unpleasant subject. “Christopher used to be much like I am. Or was. He was wild. But then he fell in love, of all things. He got married.” He frowned. “And I didn’t know what to do. Or think. I resented him, I suppose.”

  “Because he was rejecting the life you still lead?” she asked softly.

  Jeremy’s gaze jerked up. Dear God, she had hit upon the very thing he’d been denying so long. Christopher had forced him to wonder if his life, which he had always enjoyed, was frivolous. Seeing his brother’s newfound happiness and fidelity had altered Jeremy’s view on his own existence.

  “Yes, I suppose that is true,” he admitted. “That was when I started to change.”

  He frowned. Except he hadn’t changed. He’d simply fought harder to keep the life he had been living. And that fight included his agreement to destroy Penelope.

  “What about your parents?” she pressed.

  He frowned. “My father died four years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t.”

  She drew back, and he saw the surprise in her eyes. He felt it in himself. He’d never admitted that to anyone, even Christopher.

  “We weren’t close,” he explained as he shoved to his feet and began to pace the small parlor. “He was never cruel, or even neglectful. He taught me many valuable life lessons and I always respected him. But there was something…missing. I never knew what it was until one day I saw him with his other family.”

  “His other family?”

  He nodded. “He had a longtime mistress, and they had a son and daughter together. I saw him with them once. He was an entirely different man.” He thought of the way his father had tossed his young daughter in the air. The way he’d laughed. “Affectionate and loving.”

  Penelope rose and stepped toward him. “That must have been painful.”

  “I assume it must have been at some point to my mother. But by the time he died, they had a cool relationship. Now she travels. She seems very happy.”

  Not that he would know. Another revelation that shamed him.

  Penelope shook her head. “I meant painful to you. To see him with another family. To see him give them love so easily, when it was not something he’d shared easily with you or your brother.”

  He shrugged. “Not painful. Just…strange. I never looked at him the same way again. I was his…family business in a way, as was my brother. We were a way to insure his legacy, but he left his passion and his emotion somewhere else.”

  “And that was what you decided you would do, as well,” Penelope said.

  Jeremy looked down at her. A parade of willing, wanton women briefly passed before his eyes. Women he had taken to his bed, but never any further. There were a few he had actually liked, but the moment any one of them grew too close or demanded more than he was willing to give, he pushed them aside.

  Until Penelope.

  “I suppose I did,” he admitted softly.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice, though, if you could have both under one roof,” she said with a wistful sigh. “A wife you loved and felt that passion for. A woman you could see as a partner, not just a business transaction?”

  She looked so pretty, staring up at him, her face filled with naive hopes. Jeremy wished he could hold that image of her forever. Because eventually that naivety would be gone. He was sworn to crush it.

  “Your crusade, again?” he asked with a soft chuckle.

  “That was all I said, you know,” she sighed. “The first day I spoke to my friends. All
I said was that it wasn’t fair that we were asked to sit at home while our husbands found love and passion elsewhere. That we deserved more thought and respect than that. And that the only way we would get it would be to demand it.” She shook her head. “I must have hit a chord, for the entire thing escalated from that moment on. And now I am the one who is hissed at, stared at, the one who is supposed to lead some kind of uprising.”

  There was a wistful, longing quality to Penelope’s voice, and for the first time Jeremy realized just how trying this quest of hers had been. She had been chosen, somehow, to be a voice for the voiceless. But she didn’t relish the attention or the hatred that came with her position.

  “You can stop this any time you like,” he said softly. He took a step closer and their bodies almost touched. “It isn’t fair that you should have to shoulder all of that responsibility.”

  Penelope’s breath caught, a tiny hitch that seemed to echo like a shotgun blast though Jeremy’s very soul. She stared up at him, her blue gaze slightly hazy, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. All the need he had felt for her in the dark of her bedroom swept over him, taking over his reason. Washing away his plans.

  And when she looked at his mouth, Jeremy couldn’t help it. He reached out, trembling fingers brushing her cheek. He cupped her chin, tilting her face up to his and reveling in the way she shuddered with desire. She wanted him to kiss her. Him, Jeremy. Not a faceless lover, not a secret admirer whom she could dismiss in the cold light of morning. Him.

  And that made any desire he’d felt for her in the past a pale shadow of what boiled within him now. He forced himself to temper his feelings and slowly drew Penelope closer. Her body, so soft, brushed his, molded into his. And it felt so good.

  She tilted her head back, lifting her lips in silent offering to him. Her eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. Jeremy leaned in, close enough that he was aware of the soft brush of her breath on his lips, close enough to smell the faint perfume of fresh roses on her skin.

  Close enough that he felt her tremble.

  But he didn’t press his lips to hers. Because this kiss was different than any other. He had confessed some part of his soul to her, a part no one else had ever seen. And as he stared down at her, he knew that if he kissed her, it wouldn’t stop there. It would only begin. He would be compelled first to touch her and then to have her.

  And when it was over, everything would change.

  He wasn’t willing to allow that. With a shake of his head he did the most difficult thing he’d ever been forced to do and stepped away. Penelope’s eyes came open and she stared at him. Her cheeks darkened with a hot blush, her eyes reflected hurt and embarrassment.

  Jeremy felt an odd urge to comfort her, but he wouldn’t allow it.

  “I-I’m sorry,” he murmured, his apology so very lame on his lips. “I’m sorry.”

  Then he backed out of the room and left Penelope alone. Knowing he had hurt her.

  And knowing that deep down inside, by denying himself her kiss, he had hurt himself just as much. Even though allowing that emotion was a folly that would only make him weak.

  Climbing into his carriage outside, Jeremy scrubbed a hand over his face. The situation was getting entirely out of hand. Penelope Norman had woven some kind of spell over him, but he couldn’t…he would not allow that to continue. Tonight, he would come to her as her secret lover one last time. And before the night was over, he would end this madness.

  Once and for all.

  Sixteen

  Penelope sat on her bed, staring with sightless eyes at the open window across the room. In a few scant moments, a man with no face would step over the threshold. He would reach for her and she wouldn’t resist. He would seduce her and she would let herself be seduced.

  He would want her.

  And yet, she didn’t feel much excitement about that fact tonight. Yes, she looked forward to the pleasure about to come. Her heart beat faster at the idea that her mystery lover would introduce her to more pleasures than ever before.

  But she could not be fully immersed in the anticipation because of Jeremy Vaughn. Because of the almost kiss they shared just a few hours before, downstairs in her parlor.

  Because he didn’t want her.

  Jeremy didn’t want her. He had touched her, he’d drawn her close, he’d let his breath mingle with hers, but then he had withdrawn without explanation. And his eyes, his hollow, horrified eyes had said everything his lips had not.

  Penelope’s stomach churned with emotion every time she thought of it.

  She should have been happy, should have thanked him for his prudent response. If they had kissed, it would have been a terrible mistake. Jeremy’s reputation, the friendship they had developed, the fact that she was still uncertain of his true motives, no matter how much trust she found herself putting in him, all those things precluded them from being together. Not to mention that she had been surrendering herself, almost completely, to another man for many nights.

  And yet, she still longed for what might have been. She continued to wish that Jeremy had wanted her enough to touch his lips to hers, all the very good reasons to pull away be damned.

  She sighed and flopped an arm over her face as she fell back against her pillows.

  “Are you asleep?”

  Penelope bolted to a seated position as she watched the shadowy figure step through her window. She stared at his silhouette as he snapped the latch shut behind him. He wanted her. All of her.

  Without answering his question, she slipped down from the bed and crossed the room. She reached for him, feeling the edge of the mask he wore before she lifted her lips to his. He tasted of a faint mixture of fine port and minty freshness. And desire. Always desire.

  She moaned as she arched against him, pulling him closer. He was already hard against her belly, evidence that he found her attractive. That he was willing to throw away caution to touch her.

  And oh, how she needed that to erase Jeremy’s expression. The humiliation of watching one of the most notorious rakes bolt from her sitting room like she was a wart-covered frog demanding his lips.

  “Touch me,” she murmured between kisses, clasping his hands and sliding them up her sides, across her belly and finally pressing them to her breasts.

  “With pleasure,” he growled.

  And then he was backing her across the room, his hot mouth and hands roving over her body like he was a hungry man who had encountered a feast. She arched against him, loving how wanted she felt. How beautiful and erotic.

  Her backside hit the edge of the high bed and he stopped. Penelope could hardly contain a groan of displeasure as his hands left her skin. But the groan turned to a gasp as she felt him tie a blindfold over her eyes.

  “What?” she asked, reaching for the cloth.

  He caught her wrist. “I want to see you,” he whispered. “I need to see you, Penelope.”

  She hesitated. In the total darkness, their shadow coupling put them on equal ground. But blindfolded, he would have the upper hand and she would be forced to put her trust in him. She tensed at the thought. She didn’t know his name, and yet he would be in the position to do anything he liked to her.

  Her mind turned to Jeremy yet again. Her trust in him had led to his humiliating rejection. To a wash of pain. But this man would not reject her.

  “Very well,” she whispered, dropping her hand away.

  He breathed a sigh of relief, and she felt him move away, heard him adding logs to the fire and lighting candles around her room. Through the opaque cloth around her eyes, Penelope felt the light brighten.

  She couldn’t help but blush as her faceless lover moved to stand before her. He caught the thin straps of her night shift and glided them down her shoulders, letting the fabric pool at her feet and leaving her naked.

  He sucked in a breath and Penelope lifted her chin so that he wouldn’t recognize how difficult such exposure was for her. He had only looked at her in faint light before this. What if he
didn’t find her quite so alluring without darkness? What if he didn’t want her after all?

  “You are magnificent,” he whispered.

  The air left her lungs in a whoosh of relief, and Penelope blinked back unexpected stinging in her eyes at his assessment. How foolish was she that a stranger’s admiration could make her proud? Or that a rake’s rejection could make her weak?

  She shook her head. No! No thoughts of Jeremy! She wouldn’t let what had happened between them ruin this night. And she wouldn’t let images of him enter her mind while this other man touched her. Not again.

  She heard the gentle thump of something hitting the floor and stiffened. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice sounding small and uncertain.

  “Removing my mask,” he admitted.

  Penelope stepped forward and reached out her fingers. She found her lover’s chest and sucked in a breath. He had removed more than just his mask. His bare skin greeted her palms, hot and smooth. She slid her hands up until she grazed his chin.

  Slowly, gently, she touched his face. There was a hint of stubble on his defined cheeks. His lips were full, just as they felt when he pressed them to her body. She sighed as he darted his tongue out and teased her fingers.

  Once again, Jeremy’s image invaded her mind, and she pushed it away with violence. No. No. No.

  “Are you all right?” her lover whispered.

  She nodded. “Yes. Just…touch me.”

  He lifted her up to sit on the very edge of the high bed and she opened her legs shamelessly to let him step between them. The wiry hair on his chest tickled her thighs as he tilted his face up to capture her mouth. His tongue swirled around hers, thrust in rhythm, took and tenderly explored.

  And she craved even more. When his hands touched her naked sides, she moaned into his mouth. When he cupped her breasts, she shivered with desire. It seemed like her weak body was utterly out of control. Her hips surged toward him, grinding against him in a wild rhythm. Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling his mouth to her skin. Her tongue danced and speared his when he kissed her. And she offered her breasts shamelessly when he dragged his lips down her body.