Between the Devil and Desire

by Lorraine Heath

  In the shadows, she didn’t see his hand move, but suddenly she was aware of his hand slipping beneath her veil and felt his thumb caress her cheek.

  “Why, Livy?”

  “I don’t want secrets between us, Jack.”

  “And if you don’t like what you see?”

  Her feelings toward him might dissipate like the fog in late morning. “You said you weren’t ashamed of your affairs.”

  He came nearer to her, his mouth against her cheek. “What does it matter, Livy?”

  She swallowed hard. “I care for you far more than I should. I spend countless hours thinking of going to your bed. And I can’t. I just can’t, not without a clearer understanding of the man you are.” She placed her hand on his chest, felt the hard beating of his heart beneath her fingers. “Your business is a good part of your life. All it has ever been to mine is gossip. I want to know the truth of it.”

  “I’ve told you the truth of it.”

  “I want to see it. I assume it’s a shadowy place. I’m in black. My hat has a black veil. I should think it would take a very discerning eye to figure out who I am, and if all your customers indulge in spirits as much as my brother did, I think it unlikely they’ll remember seeing me anyway.”

  She heard his sigh. “I can’t take you in through the front door. You’d be too much of a curiosity, and your reputation would be destroyed if someone did recognize you.”

  “I assume you have a back one.”

  He studied her for a moment. “You can’t share the things you witness at Dodger’s with your ladies during tea. You can’t ever reveal the name of anyone you see in Dodger’s.”

  “I won’t tell a soul.”

  “I’m deadly serious, Livy. My customers pay exceedingly well to have their secrets kept, and that trust is vital to my success.”

  “I swear to you I won’t breathe a word to anyone.”

  “I shall no doubt regret this,” he muttered, even as he signaled for his driver to be off.

  Olivia could hardly give credence to the thrill of adventure that shot through her. She was going against her upbringing to do something that was absolutely and irrevocably wrong, while holding onto her belief that she needed to thoroughly know a man before she succumbed to temptation. It was a ludicrous rationale, but she couldn’t deny that he stirred within her breast intense feelings such as she’d never experienced.

  They rode in absolute silence, although even in the darkness she could sense his unwavering gaze as it homed in on her.

  “There,” he finally said, and she peered out the window to catch the first look at his gentlemen’s club.

  It didn’t look seedy, as she’d expected. It was well maintained. The white columns and liveried footmen opening the door gave it an air of luxury she’d not anticipated.

  “Is that Greystone going in?”

  “No.”

  “It certainly looked—”

  “You didn’t see anyone going in. That’s the game we play, Livy. You see nothing. You hear nothing. And by damn, you speak nothing.”

  “The lords must trust you a great deal.”

  “They trust me with a good many of their secrets. I may not be as respectable as Beckwith, but I know how to hold a confidence. Besides, they pay me an extraordinary amount, and I in turn pay my employees, to ensure their skeletons stay in the cupboard.”

  The carriage went around to the back. After Jack disembarked, he reached inside for Olivia. “Are you certain you want to do this?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He chuckled softly. “You’re like a child being offered a sweet.”

  When she stepped out, he drew her near and tucked her up against his side. “Stay near until we’re inside.”

  She could hear people singing off-key. Drunks, she thought. And there were the sounds of people walking quickly through the alleyway. Her heart sped up. A lantern hung above the back door. Jack inserted a key into the lock and was soon ushering her inside.

  The first thing that struck her was that the hallway smelled clean. The doors to several rooms were closed, the door to one open.

  “These are the offices.” He nodded toward the open doorway. “Frannie works there.”

  “Is she there now?”

  “Probably.”

  “I should stop in and say hello.”

  “This isn’t like your morning calls.”

  “It would be rude.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

  He led her to the doorway. Once again she was surprised. While the furniture appeared to be of good stock, it was sparse. Frannie was making notations in a ledger. She glanced up and her green eyes widened. “Well, hello. This is a surprise.”

  “She wanted to see a gaming hell,” Jack groused.

  “And you brought her? This is an interesting development.” She rose.

  Olivia flapped her hand self-consciously. “I don’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to have a look around. I will admit to being surprised that everything is so clean. You run a tight ship.”

  “That’s Jack’s doing. He can’t stand anything not being tidy. I think probably because he was so filthy as a child.”

  She thought of the baths he took, the way he insisted on never putting on anything that wasn’t cleaned and pressed first.

  “I’m just going to give her a quick look around,” Jack said, taking Olivia’s arm.

  After saying good-bye to Frannie, she allowed Jack to lead her up some stairs that he said were restricted to employees only. “Does she have a suitor?”

  “Good God, no. She has little interest in men.”

  “Surely she wishes to marry.”

  “I don’t think so, and that’s all I’ll say on the matter. Frannie’s secrets are her own.”

  At the top of the stairs, he led her down a narrow hallway. Then he parted some curtains and they stepped out onto a shadowy balcony. Olivia was absolutely stunned by how elegant everything appeared. The hunter green walls were framed by intricate woodwork. But it was the activity on the floor that mesmerized her. Gaming tables, too many to count, filled the room. Some men were playing with cards, others with dice. A couple of the gents had ladies sitting on their laps, but even they were nicely dressed.

  Cigar smoke created a haze. She could see all the glasses filled with various shades of amber, from light to dark, or clear liquid that she was certain wasn’t water. Boys dressed in purple livery confidently carried items for the gentlemen. It wasn’t as rowdy as she’d expected. In some cases, it was disturbingly quiet.

  She recognized a good many of the lords. Why weren’t they home with their wives?

  “I would have expected there to be more…girls,” she finally said.

  “There’s another room where most of them stay. You can peer in from over there.”

  He took her farther back into the hallway and then once again through a curtain onto a secluded balcony. She’d hesitated, not certain she wanted to see the debauchery, but her curiosity got the better of her. She was slightly disappointed. It appeared most were simply talking. She could see some kissing and a little teasing, but it wasn’t the orgy she was expecting.

  “You look crestfallen,” he said near her ear.

  “No, I…yes. I thought they’d be more naughty.”

  He chuckled darkly. “They are. But those rooms you can’t peer into, except by invitation.”

  “Invitation?”

  He shrugged. “Some of the men like to be watched, so we have a viewing room.”

  “Why would they want to be watched?”

  “I suppose they think they have something to show off.”

  “Oh.” She shook her head. “I told myself I would come here and not judge, but I don’t like that you use girls, that you make them—”

  “I don’t make them do anything they don’t want to do. I pay them to keep gents company with a bit of conversation, a dance, maybe a kiss. What they do in the back rooms, that’s their business and their coin.”
r />   “But you condone the activity.”

  “They’re going to do it, Livy. In an alley, in a room that is neither clean nor safe. Here, at least, neither the gents nor the girls have any worries.”

  “But why have them at all?”

  “Because gents get lonely. And a happy gent spends more money in my establishment. Seen enough?”

  She could see that she wasn’t going to win this argument for now, but maybe in time…

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  It wasn’t until they were back in the carriage headed home that Olivia asked, “How did you ever afford to open a business?”

  “When I was nineteen, Beckwith came to see me. I had an anonymous benefactor who gave me ten thousand pounds. I used it to purchase the building.”

  “Who was he?”

  “I don’t know. He was anonymous.”

  “But you must have some idea. Could he have been that Feagan fellow?”

  “No, running pickpockets doesn’t make one wealthy.”

  “Who else might it have been?”

  “I always assumed he was Luke’s grandfather. We didn’t get along very well, and I thought he saw it as an expeditious way to get rid of me. An investment well worth making.”

  “I expect you were too headstrong for him.”

  “I did think my way was the best.” He chuckled, then quieted. “For an instant, the night the will was read, I had an insane notion that it was Lovingdon. But I asked Beckwith and he spouted some nonsense about holding my benefactor’s secret.”

  “Why would Lovingdon do that?”

  “Why would he leave me his non-entailed properties?”

  “If it was Lovingdon, I should think you’d find the information in his record books.”

  “What record books?”

  “They’ve kept records on everything. Every cow purchased, every horse bred, every servant hired, every salary paid. Lovingdon was obsessed with those books. I suppose in retrospect, he was scouring them in order to determine what was entailed and what was not—I can show you if you like.”

  “Seems unlikely that I’d find anything, but I don’t suppose it would hurt to look.”

  His business beginnings and record books. She was carrying on conversations about things that had no importance while her scent wafted toward him.

  “What’s your opinion on Dodger’s?” he asked.

  Silence stretched between them while the carriage wheels rattled over the street.

  Finally, she said, “It wasn’t as decadent as I expected it to be.”

  He wrapped his hand around her neck, slipped his thumb beneath her veil, and skimmed it over her jaw. “You sound disappointed.”

  “What? No.” Then she released a self-conscious laugh. “A little, I suppose. If you want the truth, I was expecting orgies and lewd behavior and barbarism. It was all disenchantingly civilized.”

  “Gents just enjoying themselves.”

  “It’s a shame there’s not something similar for women.”

  “What would you do? Serve various types of tea, discuss the merits of each?”

  “We could play cards,” she said tartly, and he knew he’d offended her. “Have handsome men serving us, giving us the attention our husbands do not.”

  He stilled his thumb. “You have someone here willing to give you the attention your husband didn’t, yet you constantly retreat.”

  With a sweep of his hand, he lifted the veil over her head, lowered his mouth to hers, and cursed his weakness. He’d sworn that he’d not settle for a kiss. But suddenly it was torturous to go so long without even a taste of her. It pleased him immeasurably that she returned the kiss with fervor equal to his. He knew she wanted him. Where did she find the restraint to continually say no?

  Chipping away at years of proper behavior required a man who possessed a good deal more patience than Jack had. He wanted what he desired as soon as he realized he wanted it. He supposed she found him equally frustrating, with his years of improper behavior that she wanted to correct.

  Perhaps she was having some influence over him after all. Aware that she’d enter the house and some servants would still be about, he didn’t take down her hair or unbutton her bodice. He didn’t take liberties that would leave her panting and short of breath.

  He dragged his mouth to the sensitive spot near her ear, felt the thrumming of her pulse beneath his tongue. “You see, I can be civilized. Tell me you don’t want me to be.”

  “I don’t know anymore. I can’t think when you do that.”

  “That says it all, doesn’t it? You belong”—he startled to a stop, the words with me dangling on his tongue—“in my bed.”

  Desire fled, replaced by an almost overwhelming need to run.

  Chapter 18

  Jack stood at the window in his bedchamber, gazing out on the night. Whatever was the matter with him? When had he begun to think of Livy as his?

  He could never marry her. He could never make her respectable. Marriage alone to him would be enough to lower her in the eyes of Society. He could have her for perhaps two years, while she was in mourning. And then he’d have to let her go. Her and Henry. He’d obtain the last item, of “immeasurable worth,” and in time, he’d no longer think about them.

  But for now she was all he thought about.

  When the door leading into the dressing room opened, his heartbeat kicked up a notch and he slowly turned. She stood in her nightgown, her hair unbound, her small feet bare, her toes curling into the carpet, her hands folded primly in front of her, trepidation clearly visible on her face.

  “I’m not quite sure how to do this,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure how to go about seducing you.”

  “Seducing me?” He released a bark of laughter, saw the hurt flash over her features, and closed the distance separating them in four long strides. He took her soft face between his roughened hands. “Livy, you’ve been seducing me since that first night.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I find your defiance exciting.”

  He kissed her temple. “I find your temper thrilling.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I find your love for Henry humbling.”

  He pressed his lips to the tip of her nose. “I find your laughter enchanting.”

  He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Your eyes mesmerize me and your kisses have the power to bring me to my knees.”

  He watched as the doubt in her golden eyes turned to certainty. She gave him an impish smile. “I forbid you to make love to me.”

  His mouth went dry at her words. He’d never made love to a woman. He’d bedded many. The sex had been satisfying. But to make love, he hardly knew where to begin, but it was a gift she deserved. It was what he wanted to give to her. She was unlike any woman he’d ever known. She’d come to him with no expectation of receiving coins. What she was offering to him was far more valuable than anything he could ever give to her.

  “I’ve warned you, sweetheart, to never forbid me. You’ll only make me do it.”

  And with that, he took her mouth as tenderly as he was able, but tenderness was foreign to him. With the first taste of her, the hunger he’d been holding at bay broke free with a fierceness that astounded him. He wanted to clearly see what clothing and shadows had kept from him.

  Without tearing his mouth from hers, he lifted her into his arms, carried her to the bed, and set her on her feet beside it. She swayed, and he drew her near, allowing her to take strength from him.

  Olivia had felt the power of his passion in the garden. Still it astounded her that it could be so forceful, could weaken her so easily. She grew so hot that it was almost as though she were taking ill again. And her legs were quivering. If his arms weren’t around her, she thought she might simply melt into the floor.

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, skimmed her fingers up into his thick hair, hair that suddenly didn’t seem too long. She wanted to bury her face in it, and she thought that perhaps before the night was over she might.


  Jack withdrew from the kiss, trailing his mouth along her jaw as though he were reluctant to leave her lips, didn’t want his mouth far from hers. She lifted her chin, giving him easier access to her throat, and a small whimper escaped. His velvety touch teased and cajoled. “Ah, Livy, Livy.” His voice was low, seductive, and she knew she would follow it to whatever sins it led her.

  She felt his mouth brushing over her shoulders and only then did she remember that he had a pickpocket’s fingers and light touch. He’d worked her buttons free from throat to stomach and she’d not even noticed. And now the gown was sliding off her shoulders, gliding to the floor.

  She had a second to consider that she should feel a need to cover herself and then she was considering nothing at all except for the wondrous sensations of his mouth playing over her breasts: tasting, licking, suckling. All the while, he murmured that she was “beautiful. So beautiful.”

  Without warning, he swept her up into his arms and laid her on the bed. As soon as his arms were no longer around her, he was tearing at his clothing, hastily discarding each piece until they were nothing more than a crumpled bundle on the floor.

  She barely had time to appreciate the magnificence of him before he was placing a knee on the bed and coming for her, like some large predatory cat, with intent and the knowledge that the prey could not escape.

  She didn’t want to escape. She opened her arms to him, touching what she’d only seen that long-ago morning in the dressing room. He was a young man and his body reflected the strength of youth. Firm muscles, taut skin. And flexibility.

  He’d stretched out beside her, the hand bearing the brand wrapping over her hip, almost with significance, as he twisted his body and laid a kiss on her stomach. He nibbled his way up to her breasts, kissing the inside of one, then the other, giving equal attention to each. She thought she should have been prepared for the pleasures rippling through her.

  Was it the forbidden that heightened the pleasure? Was it the taste of sin that made her so much more aware of her body’s awakening? Or was it simply that he had the devil’s own touch, that he had the power and the knowledge to bring forth carnal delights?