Love Redeemed (8 page)

“Yes, well. Regardless, I would not have accepted any arrangement but the one we have. Your brother knows me too well.” Serena darted a glance at Brennan. His expression remained perfectly neutral. Was he angry?

“The current situation is not acceptable. Word is getting out, and I will not have you sullying the family name by keeping this woman in your home.” The dragon had made her pronouncement. She rose from her seat and sauntered across the room to the door.

Brennan rose and faced his sister’s back. “I’m afraid, Caroline, that our living arrangements are none of your concern. May I suggest you find someone else’s life to interfere in?”

“Brennan, you will heed me on this.” With her parting words, she swept from the room and out of the house.

***

Damn his sister to perdition. He had been planning for over a week on asking Serena to marry him that night over dinner. With his sister’s judgments ringing in her ears, Serena would never accept. “That was an interesting visit.”

“Quite.” Serena sniffled and dashed out of the parlor.

“Bloody hell,” Brennan cursed, rising to follow her.

He took the stairs behind her two at a time and found her bedroom door locked. He detoured into his own room and tried the connecting door. Unlocked. He slipped into the room and found Serena stretched across the bed, her body shuddering as she cried.

“Please love, don’t cry.” Brennan eased onto the bed.

She sniffled and started to sit up. “I’m sorry, I know it is not a mistress-like thing to do, but I fear I have disrupted your life and made your sister angry with you.”

Brennan handed her a handkerchief. “Do not be silly. She is a veritable fire-breathing dragon who only looks like a woman. If it were not this, she would be huffing and puffing about some other perceived failing on my part. Now settle down.” He rubbed her back as she hiccupped and sniffed her tears into submission. “I have a lovely evening already planned, including attending the masked ball at Vauxhall Garden. Will you feel up to going?”

Serena nodded and sighed. “I will. I don’t want to ruin the evening you planned for us.”

“Good. Now I am going back to the office for a bit to wrap up my business. I’ll be home to clean up and change later.” He kissed her nose and headed out of the bedroom door. Maybe he could salvage the night and get her to see he loved her.

Chapter Seven

Serena sat at her vanity. Well, the table was not really hers, was it? She peered into the glass and coiled the last rope of hair into place. Warm hands came down on her shoulders in a gentle squeeze. She glanced up meeting Brennan’s heated gaze in the mirror. His hands slipped down to cup her exposed breasts through the sheer material of her chemise. He took each nipple between his thumbs and forefingers and rolled them. Waves of pleasure fired down into her belly. She leaned back into his body as he continued the attention.

“You look lovely this evening.” His voice was a sensual growl as if disused.

“I’m not even dressed.” She let her eyes slide close while enjoying the pleasant sensations.

“Ah, but lovely nonetheless.” He chuckled. “Turn around for me.”

Serena did as directed. He stepped between her legs, spread them wide, and kneeled down. He ran a finger across her slick opening and rubbed it up over her clit. Then, he dipped it back down and plunged into her pussy to work in and out. A soft moan escaped at his erotic assault on her senses. He added a second finger to his effort and tipped forward to suckle one nipple through her chemise. The tingles tightened and grew more focused as the pace of his fingers increased.

As she drew near to cresting that peak, he stopped. He withdrew his fingers, licked them clean, and sauntered toward the door between their rooms. “I suggest you get dressed to go.”

Her body was alive with all the sensations he had stirred up. The slightest brush against her nipples caused a deep throbbing between her thighs. Every movement carried torture, exquisite torture that would continue for quite a while. With a resigned sigh, she stood and called for Maggie to help her finish dressing for the evening.

A short while later she swept down the stairs. Brennan waited below looking dashing in his dark evening clothes, matching domino, and mask. The perfect foil of Night to her Day, with her bright blue gown and matching mask adorned with peacock feathers.

“Good evening, Master Night.” She curtsied once on the floor of the foyer.

“Good evening, Mistress Day.” He bowed to her. “Your carriage awaits.”

They departed for Vauxhall, every bump in the road causing her nipples to rasp against her chemise. She squirmed in her seat while rubbing her thighs together for some kind of relief.

“Stop fidgeting, Serena.” Brennan’s implacable tone left no room for argument. This was that dominant side he was slowly revealing, and she found she liked it as much as she liked his more tender side.

Adept at role-playing, she bit her lip and stilled her body. “Yes, Master Night.”

***

Brennan settled back against the squabs of the carriage and relished her flexibility and resilience. She could follow as easily as lead, and she had not let his sister’s visit spoil their evening. He thought back to their interlude in her bedroom. How she opened to him and how responsive she was. His original intent had been to give her release and help her relax for the evening. But he changed his ploy when he found her so responsive and relaxed already. Perhaps having her anticipate what would come later would be good for her. Help her see they belonged together.

The carriage stopped and the door swung open to reveal the glittering lights of Vauxhall Gardens. He climbed down before assisting her in alighting. The voluminous skirts of her dress fell out around her to a graceful drape. His eyes snagged on the expanse of cleavage exposed. He bit back a groan, grateful the domino he wore would hide his rampant erection.

“I have a private table reserved for us right off the orchestra.” He grasped her arm and led her to their spot. As requested the candelabras were half lit and the champagne chilled.

“This is excellent, Brennan—I mean, Master Night.” Her lips tilted up at the corners as she took the seat he offered her near the railing.

“I am pleased you like it, Mistress Day.” He sat across from her and poured the champagne. “Have you never been to Vauxhall?”

“I’ve never had the opportunity to visit.” She peeked up through a fringe of lashes. “Had I known it had so much to offer I might have tried to attend sooner.”

“Ah, but then I would not have had the pleasure of bringing you.” He sipped his drink before opening the curtains to reveal the colorful swirl of dancers gliding by.

“It is amazing all the colors and people.” Pleasure shone on her face as she leaned forward to gawk at the display. She paused and drew in a long deep breath. Brennan grinned in satisfaction at the turmoil he created. She cast him a glance full of desire. It emanated from her in palpable waves.

“Are you well, Mistress Day?”

She nodded.

“Perhaps you would like to dance with me?” He stood and presented his hand. Silently, she accepted the offering and rose from her chair. He maneuvered her down a step onto the dance floor and swept her into an effortless waltz. He clutched her closer than proper so that her belly rested against his hip allowing her to feel the rigid shaft along his thigh. The intimate embrace crushed her pebbled nipples into his chest. He wanted her melting into a puddle of need by the end of the dance.

When he led her back to their private table and drew the curtains for privacy, he tipped her into his lap and fed her one of the hors d’oeuvres that had appeared on their table while they had danced. She nibbled the bite of toast and caviar and licked the crumbs from his fingers. A growl escaped him as the tip of her tongue darted out from between her lips to caress his finger.

Tilting her head more toward him, he kissed her and popped one of her breasts from the confines of her bodice. Their tongues dueled while he squeezed her nipple between his fingers. Hearing her moan and then feeling her grind against his lap in need, he released the hard nub and gathered the front of her skirts up to her thighs. Gaining access to her damp cleft, he tugged her clit, much as he had done with her nipple. She lay her head back on his shoulder and squirmed in his lap.

“Mmmm, Brennan,” she murmured, her voice almost inaudible over the music.

He stopped. “Who is this Brennan fellow?”

“I mean, Master Night.” She bit her lip and pressed against his hand. He resumed his attentions, though he thrust his finger inside of her heated channel. She rippled around him, soaked with her own desire, as he added a second finger and pumped them in and out of her body. She reached up to caress her own breast, freed the other, and plucked and twisted both her nipples as he slid his fingers deep inside her. Gorgeous. She straddled his lap with her thighs splayed wide for his attention. Enticed by her wanton display, he feared he might come without her ever touching him.

He stopped. “Stand up and turn around. I find I must be inside you this instant.” He opened his domino and his trousers to reveal his throbbing erection. Easing her back into his lap, he guided her over his cock and pulled her down. She gasped and her eyes widened in pleasure.

An importunate knock on the servant’s door broke the moment. “Not now,” he barked. His patience was nonexistent as he held back his release. Her heat alone could set him off, but paired with the gentle clutching of her sheath he was very nearly unmanned.

After a moment, he allowed her to move. Strong thighs helped her rise and fall, impaling her on his erection. Over. And over again. She ground into him until she came with a shuddering spasm designed to milk his seed from his body before he was ready. Spying a small bench, he rose up and carried her to it. He set her down and stayed between her legs to drive his cock back into her heat. He could fuck her properly with unfettered access, allowing him to pump in and out in a rhythm that synchronized with the beat of the country-dance that played. A few more strokes and he withdrew to come in his handkerchief.

He straightened, stuffed the soiled cloth in his pocket, and helped Serena sit up. “My apologies for attacking you like a randy schoolboy.”

“No apology required.” Serena flashed him a seductive smirk promising more.

He nodded and strode to the door of the booth. He opened it to find a ruddy-faced footman camped outside. “Please have dinner brought in.”

The footman nodded and disappeared. He returned a short while later with a cart bearing their meal.

***

Brennan had reclaimed his seat, observing her with an uncomfortable intensity. A wave of gratitude rolled over her when the waiter served their meal. Food allowed her to focus on something other than the man across the table. Her heart raced as she suspected him of screwing up the courage to ask for her hand in marriage. That would be an utter disaster. How could she, a prostitute, marry him, a successful businessman? No, without a doubt, after Lady Thornton’s reaction that afternoon it would never be possible. She would have to end their arrangement. She should have ended it when she realized she had developed deeper feelings. Madame Marchander had always warned her girls about fancying themselves in love with a customer. Brennan was a customer, and she remained bought and paid for, for six months, or until one of them ended the arrangement.

The waiter laid her napkin in her lap, letting the material drape over her skirts. The tension grew palpable as neither said a word. Each studied the other until the man departed the private booth and Brennan cleared his throat.

Chapter Eight

“Serena, I wanted to thank you for the last few weeks. I cannot begin to tell you how much I have enjoyed having you with me and a part of my life. I find it hard to imagine life without you.”

She released the breath she did not realize she’d been holding. No! He could not do this. It would ruin his life, his business.

Panic surged through her causing her stomach to contract and release in time with the pounding at her temples.

Brennan eased forward in his seat. His hand slipped into his pocket and produced a small elaborately enameled box. The violets painted on the lid were remarkable in their detail and her favorite flower. How did he know? Then the box opened to reveal a stunning pair of sapphires encircled by diamonds.
Oh goodness
.

“Serena, I don’t give a damn what my sister or anyone else thinks. I will not release you from our contract, and I will not move you out of my house.” His gaze locked with hers, saying far more than his simple statement.

Her heart cracked a little. No one but a fool would think he’d propose after his sister’s visit. And even if he had, she would have had to reject the man she wanted more than any other because it would never work. She would never be accepted by his family or his friends.

Breaking their gazes, she looked at the dazzling display of jewelry. “Oh, Brennan….” She drew in a deep breath and settled her whirling thoughts. “I cannot accept such an expensive gift. It is beautiful, but too much.”

“Why can’t you accept them?” His pleasure dimmed a bit as the sparkle in his eyes faded.

“It is too extravagant. Besides, I think—” She bit her lip and glanced around the small space as she willed her hands to cease shaking. “—your sister is right. I should not be staying in your house. If your clients hear of my presence, they will refuse to do business with you and of course the scandal is shameful for your family.” Refusing to cry, she blinked rapidly.

“My business might suffer a bit, but I am certain I can rebound. Many of my clients will never know nor care. I love you, Serena. If you would marry me, I’d spend my life with you regardless of the consequences. But, for now I will be content with you sharing my bed.” He turned his stubborn gaze on her, chin tilting ever so slightly in defiance.