Five Wicked Kisses - A Tasty Regency Tidbit (2 page)

“Five kisses? How very forward of you, sir.”

“Ah, Juliana. It is far less than I could have asked. Those debts represent a considerable sum.”

It was true. Five kisses was a paltry payment, even considering their reduced circumstances.

Was it possible Robert still cared for her, even after she had turned him away so cruelly? Had her hateful words faded in his memory?

She searched his expression, but there was no softness there, none of the eager yearning they had shared. No, she would be a fool to think that he had forgiven her.

“Why?” The word came out nearly a whisper.

“Because I can.” His voice was hard.

“So, I’m just another bauble the earl can buy? A trinket to be played with and then discarded when you are done?”

The thought burned. He didn’t even want her for a mistress, he merely wanted to toy with her, like a cat with a mouse under its paw. There was no warmth of sentiment in him. He only wanted revenge.

“Do you deserve better?” His gaze bored into hers. “After heaping such scorn upon me, do you think I’d come to pay you court now?”

“My mother - ”

“I didn’t see her standing with a pistol at your back that day, making you say those words. You seemed convinced enough that I was unworthy of you. How did you put it? Ah yes… you said I was
no better than the dirt under your feet.
”

She dropped her gaze to the carpet.

How many nights had she lain wakeful in bed with shame burning through her? She had written to him, dozens of apologies and explanations - had tried to post the letters, but her mother had always intercepted them. The consequence of seeing her younger brother punished for her disobedience had put a stop to her efforts. But she still composed messages to Robert in her heart.

“I’m sorry,” she said. The words came out nearly a whisper. “It was wrong of me.”

“Juliana.” He spoke her name like a cold stone. “Do you expect me to believe you feel remorse? You think that, now I’m the Earl of Eastbrook, all should be forgiven between us?”

“It’s not because of that!” She lifted her head and met his gaze directly. “I don’t care whether you hold a title.”

It had been her mother who had cared - strongly enough to force Juliana to break all ties with Robert.

“What a remarkable liar you are.” The coolness of his expression did not change. “Let’s return to the matter at hand. Your debt to me.”

She wrapped her arms about herself. It was clear he would never forgive her.

“I don’t see why you’d even want to collect the debt in this manner, since you find me so contemptible. Can’t I give you some other payment?” Though what, she couldn’t imagine.

“Contemptible, but still beautiful.” He reached out and ghosted a touch along the side of her face. “They call you the Ice Maiden, did you know that?”

She shook her head. Perhaps her friend Henrietta had heard, but spared her the knowledge.

Would she even be able to find a suitor, with that name shackling her? She could feel all her plans collapsing. Nothing had ever come out right. Her past, and her future, lay in tumbled ruins at her feet.

What more damage could five kisses do?

“Very well,” she said. “I will pay what you ask.”

“Good.” A slow smile spread the corners of his mouth. “Now, come sit down.”

“I really don’t - ”

“Come.” He took her elbow and steered her around the settee.

She perched on the edge, and he sat beside her, too close for any kind of comfort. She remembered kissing him - she dreamed of kissing him. Even if he no longer cared for her, it would not be dreadful.

Ah, if only she were the Ice Maiden in truth - cold and unfeeling. Instead her heart was as vulnerable as a new blossom, in danger of withering under the blight of Robert’s disdain.

“I suppose…we had best begin,” she said, holding herself stiffly away from him.

Soonest begun, soonest done, her old governess used to say. Juliana closed her eyes. It was too much to hope that he would simply kiss her cheek, but she tilted her head toward him nonetheless.

His low chuckle made her open her eyes. He had not moved, except to extend one arm along the back of the settee. Despite his laughter, his expression was calculating.

“It’s not as simple as you seem to think, Juliana. Let me explain exactly how you will fulfill this debt.”

“What explanation do five kisses require? Take them and be done!”

His nearness was unbearable. She wanted to fling herself into his arms. She wanted to take to her heels and slam every door between them.

“No,” he said. “Each kiss will require a separate visit. I’ll take my first payment today, and call upon you the next four Thursday afternoons to claim the remainder.”

“I hardly think - ”

“You agreed.” He held her gaze. Flecks of amber burned in his eyes.

There was nothing she could say to that. She was entirely at his mercy. Her lips parted, and his eyes shifted to her mouth. After a heartbeat, he shook his head.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

“My hand?”

“Don’t look so surprised. I told you we’ll continue under my terms. I choose the placement of these most-expensive kisses.”

She should not have agreed without determining what, exactly, Robert had been planning. But even had she known, refusal would have still been impossible. He had neatly trapped her.

“Placement of the kisses?”

“Yes.” His gaze smoldered. “There are so many places on your body I could put my mouth. Five is hardly enough to make a beginning.”

His words were so full of wickedness she burned from hearing them. She stared at him, her heart pounding.

“Your hand,” he said again.

Slowly, Juliana extended her arm. He caught her hand, holding it palm-up. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he set the fingers of his other hand at her wrist. Then, with exquisite slowness, he drew his fingers down. The movement sent sparks flickering along her nerves. His caress continued on to the warm hollow of her palm, his fingers drawing little circles that sizzled through her entire body.

“Is this necessary?” Her voice was treacherously unsteady. “I thought you were going to kiss my hand, not tickle it.”

“Oh, I shall.”

He turned her hand over, his grip warm and inescapable. Bending his head, he brought the back of her hand up to his mouth. His lips were firm, and softer than she had expected, warm against her skin. Before she could adjust to the sensation, he flicked his tongue out, and she stifled a gasp.

Where his lips were warm, his tongue was hot. He parted his mouth, his tongue echoing the circling of his fingers, so that her whole hand was engulfed in swirling fire. She swayed back against the cushions, and he glanced up, satisfaction gleaming in his golden eyes.

It took her a moment to find her voice. “Are you quite finished, sir?”

“No.” He turned her hand over, cupping it with his own. “Shall I read your fortune?”

“I have no fortune, as you are well aware.”

“You have a cruel past, though.” For a moment something almost wistful flashed across his face. Then his expression hardened. “And you will pay for it, lovely Juliana.”

“I have paid enough, today.” She tried to pull her hand away.

“I think not.” He kept her hand, and truly, half of her did not want him to release her.

No matter their turbulent past, this had not changed - her body yearned for him in ways she could scarcely understand.

Once again, he lowered his mouth to her skin. The heat of his tongue in the palm of her hand was astonishing, and incredibly intimate. He ravished her now, lacing his fingers through hers and spreading her hand wide, slipping his tongue in and out between her parted fingers.

The tips of her breasts tightened, and sensations she could not name swirled through her - heat and a curious discomfort. Despite her efforts at control, she knew he heard her breathing grow unsteady. She felt as though her entire being was there, throbbing in the center of her palm.

“That… was two kisses,” she managed when he finally raised his head.

“No - merely the continuation of a kiss to your hand,” he said. He folded her fingers over her palm.

“But…” She gazed into his eyes, seeing no room for argument. Once his mind was made up, there was no swaying him.

“Remember,” he said. “I will return on Thursday.”

She nodded, then cleared her throat. “The butler will see you out.”

She did not trust herself to remain steady on her legs. Not with the aftermath of his kiss storming through her, the tangles of regret and desire knotted about her heart.

“Farewell.” He gave the word an ironic twist as he rose and sketched her a bow. He did not look back, and the parlor door swung closed behind him.

Once she was certain he was gone, Juliana slowly opened her hand, as though something fragile and impossible rested in her palm. Robert’s kiss, though it was not a lover’s kiss.

She would pay a thousand times over for what she had done. If she had thought her life unbearable four years ago, after she had obeyed her mother and turned him away, how much worse would it be now?

To see him, to kiss him, and feel her heart breaking a little more each time. It was clear now why he had taken up Father’s debts. It was to punish her. By the time the Earl of Eastbrook was finished taking his payment, their fortune would be restored.

And she would be reduced to nothing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Robert leaned back against the cushioned seats of his carriage, and smiled. That had gone very well, indeed. He’d been prepared for more opposition, but the quickness of Juliana’s capitulation was a testament to how perfectly he had played his hand. There was nothing she could do but submit.

The first kiss had affected her just as he had planned. Though she had tried to conceal her reaction, he had been gratified to see how her body betrayed her - her rapid heartbeat, her parted lips. It was only a short distance from arousal to desire, from desire to obsession. He would not call it
love
, that bitter word that curdled in his mouth.

Women and raw youths preferred to paint over the starkness of overwhelming passion, calling it by sweeter, more sentimental terms. But he knew that beneath the rosy haze lay a harder truth. Love did not exist.

He’d learned that lesson. Juliana would, too.

Juliana Tate. Damn, but she was still beautiful, with hair that could make any man yearn to sin. His fingers tingled at the thought of unpinning it, seeing those honeyed waves cascading over her shoulders and down her back. The fantasy of Juliana clothed only in the golden veil of her hair was delectable.

The door of the carriage swung open, a waft of cool spring air interrupting his carnal imaginings.

“My lord,” the footman said, setting the steps.

Robert nodded his thanks. Before him rose the imposing façade of the Earl of Eastbrook’s town house. His house. He took little pleasure in it - the death of a good man had brought him here. The title and wealth were simply the means to an end. Juliana’s downfall.

After she had so cruelly thrust him from her life, it had taken the better part of a year to mend his shattered heart. That year had changed him from a dreamy-eyed youth to a man. He had learned that women lusted for him, and he had honed that power. Not until his cousin had died, leaving him the title, had he begun to think he could claim revenge on Miss Juliana Tate.

Her apology that afternoon had been unexpected. Not genuine, of course - he’d be an utter fool to believe that. Still, he’d thought it would take her longer, by the third kiss perhaps, to offer a show of remorse.

Of course, it was on account of his new title. She’d inherited her mother’s grasping nature. Robert stalked up the stairs, not pausing as the butler opened the door. He made his way to the dark-paneled study. A fire burned on the hearth, warding the spring chill from the air.

One of the maids had brought in a spray of apple blossoms. The sight kindled an icy rage within him. Snatching the white-petaled boughs from their vase, he threw them onto the coals. They hissed and smoked and then, at last, burst into flame.

Just as he had burned out the memory of Juliana, white petals caught in her hair, laughing in the apple orchard.

He would bring her low, make her suffer as he had suffered, and then he would be free. Only four kisses stood between him and the future.

~
CHAPTER THREE
~

“Miss Tate is expecting you, my lord,” the butler said to Robert one week later, taking his hat and gloves.

The man led him to the same room as before, a parlor with striped wallpaper and a decided lack of ornamentation. Juliana was standing behind the settee, her arms folded at her waist. She was wearing the same drab dress as last time.

Did she think to put him off with unattractive clothing? Her hair spoiled the intent, however. The honeyed strands were twisted into an awkward coil at the back of her head. His fingers itched with the desire to pull her hairpins out and let that golden cascade tumble freely down.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

“My lord.”

She made no other concession to his title, no dip of a curtsy, not even an inclination of her head. So proud and intractable. But he would bring her to her knees - figuratively speaking.

When he rounded the settee, she began to move away.

“I refuse to chase you about the room, Juliana,” he said, catching her arm. “Stand still.”

She swallowed, and he could see her pulse fluttering at her throat. Despite her icy demeanor, she was not unmoved by him. He intended to unsettle her even more.

“Very well.” She tilted her cheek to him, as she had done before. “Kiss me and take your leave.”

“Dear Juliana.” He slid his hand down to the curve of her waist. “I told you, it’s not that simple. Turn around.”

He placed his other hand on her other hip, and rotated her until she stood with her back to him.

“Really, sir.” She tried to take a step away, but he held her firmly in place. “I don’t see -”

“My kisses, to take as I please. As we agreed.”

She would see soon enough. He felt a smile curve his lips.