His Courtesan Bride (Brides of Mayfair 3) (18 page)

Was it her beauty, he wondered? She was physically exquisite, there was no doubt. The mysterious green eyes, the thick, auburn tresses, the ivory skin…Her appearance was breathtaking. But it was more than that. It was the intelligence and passion that burned in her eyes, the defiant, yet vulnerable curve of her mouth, the unbidden response to his touch that made Serena so irresistible.

No other woman could compare with her, and now at last, she was his. A niggling voice inside his head added, ‘for the moment.’

Darius admonished himself for overthinking the situation. He had just enjoyed the first night of their six month contract. There would be many more nights like the one last. In fact, he intended to visit the townhouse and enjoy her every night this week. A year of pent-up desire was trapped in his blood and demanded to be released.

And release it he would, deep between Serena’s tantalizing thighs.

The fact that there would be no child from their coupling was more of a relief than he could have imagined. Lady Devlyn had schooled the Courtesan Club well. They all knew which herbal concoctions would prevent a baby from being planted in their bellies. It was very freeing to be able to enjoy physical pleasure without the pressure of being careful with one’s seed.

An image popped into his mind then, of Serena heavily pregnant with his child, smiling radiantly up at him. He found the idea strangely arousing.

What if she did become pregnant? Would he marry her, then? How could he, now that all of London knew about her profession? His mother would never allow it. She had never forgiven him for the previous scandal he and Serena had caused at Telford House. His mother would rather die, or better yet, see him run through, than married to a scandalous woman.

He banished those negative thoughts. He was not going to let such worries diminish his newfound pleasure with Serena. After all he had endured with Henrietta, he deserved a bit of happiness.

For the next six months, Serena Ransom was totally and completely his. She would warm his bed, she would amuse him with conversation, and she would sooth his senses with her beauty and her body.

And after their six month contract was over, what then? Would Serena wish to carry on as his private courtesan? Darius fought to banish the thought. For though he now held the power in their relationship, he dreaded the day when she would hold all the cards.

Because although Serena herself was unaware of the fact, his courtesan held much more power in her delicate little hands than she could possibly know.

BOOK II

Chapter 13

“It is during the course of an association that the courtesan’s talent truly comes to light. Like Scheherazade in ‘One Thousand and One Nights,’ she must keep her protector enthralled night after night.”

–from Memoirs of a Courtesan, by Lady Night

October, 1820

London

Serena sat on the floor in a perfect middle splits position, pointing her bare toes like a ballerina, and leaning forward with her elbows on the carpet. Perhaps the floor of her opulent bedroom was an odd place to study a book, but the Turkish carpet of scarlet and gold was comfortable, and she enjoyed lying thus with her chin propped in one hand, while she turned pages with the other.

The blousy, loose fitting harem pants—a gift from Lady Devlyn—allowed her delicious freedom of movement, one that Serena guessed most proper ladies of the
ton
would have no inkling about. She pitied them. A matching tunic of bright robin’s egg blue whispered over her naked skin, the sheer, gauzy silk tantalizingly sensuous. She stretched her legs wider, feeling the sweet tension of her inner thighs as she limbered them.

Almost five months had passed since she had taken Darius as her lover, and she had truly blossomed into her new role. Serena was something of a celebrity, now, just as Lady Devlyn had assured her she would be.

At social engagements, she and Darius had undoubtedly been the main attraction. The papers abounded with sightings of Lord Kane and his beautiful courtesan shopping on Bond Street, enjoying a play or opera at the Theater Royale, or seated in a private box at Vauxhall Gardens with the rest of the Courtesan Club, Lady Devlyn, and Major Price in attendance.

The men of the
ton
still looked at Serena with lust in their eyes, but the women now gazed at her not so much with open hostility, but a mixture of restrained curiosity and what appeared to be envy. Perhaps being in an exclusive relationship with Lord Kane had alleviated their fears somewhat. They knew that for the time being, their husbands were safe. Though Serena’s contract with Darius would soon come to an end.

Neither of them had spoken about it, Darius most likely assuming that they would continue on together, while Serena had been content to avoid the subject altogether.

Everything was going according to plan.

Her
plan, this time.

Darius Manning needed to be taught a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. And to quote Lady Devlyn, ‘A man usually only learned anything if his cock was involved.’

Judging by last night’s activities, Darius’s member was
very
involved.

Serena gave a self-satisfied smile at the memory. She had taken him to new heights of pleasure, using only her tongue and mouth on his throbbing sex. It was her favorite way to assert carnal power over him. After that kind of attention from Serena, Darius would often say that she had rendered him immobile, having been emptied of all strength.

Serena had become accustomed to their sexual relationship, at least as much as she could be. She could never truly relax around Darius, for fear that she would let down her guard and once again become the same vulnerable girl he’d seduced at Telford House.

Sometimes, after Darius had used his body to make hers sing with delicious passion, Serena would be a hairsbreadth away from becoming that girl again—the one who had first melted in his arms like butter.

But she always regained her sanity before it got out of hand.

He was good at this game, there was no doubt about that.

But Serena was better.

And Darius was about to find out exactly
how
much better.

He was due to arrive at any moment. They had been invited to an assembly for music and a poetry reading at the Mayfair home of the Marquess and Marchioness of Rochford. What with Queen Caroline’s trial in Parliament, many of the nobility had remained in town after the Season came to a close, organizing musicales and card parties to entertain themselves in the evenings.

Serena stretched her back and extended her arms toward the ceiling. Then she bent her upper body towards each pointed foot, feeling her muscles elongate and relax. She supposed most women didn’t practice daily exercise, but this was part of her job, now. Staying in top shape allowed her to hone her sexual skills and keep Darius always wanting more.

It was a curious dance they did. The physical intimacy between them was raw and intense, but that was as far as it went. And though Serena was certain Darius could sometimes glimpse a vision of her soul when he made her shatter with pleasure, she had become skilled at quickly recovering control. Though she took him into her body, she never took him into her heart.

What they did was just sex.

It was not making love.

In order to make love with Darius, Serena would have had to open her heart to him as well as her legs. And she was far too intelligent to do that.

For his part, Darius seemed content with their arrangement. He was no different from any other man, as Lady Devlyn assured her, for the organ between his legs overruled the one that beat within his breast. Darius Manning was many things, but a sentimental fool was not one of them. Serena doubted very much that Darius moped about, wishing for a more spiritual connection with her. What he had was every man’s wet dream—a business arrangement that provided him with a skilled sexual partner, and nothing more.

Serena couldn’t help but wonder, then, how Darius would react when she told him their association was at an end.

Would he argue with her? Would he become violent and throw something against the wall in frustration? Or would he merely shrug, and offer Serena her final wages?

Something made her doubt the latter. Darius was a possessive man, a passionate man. But in their battle of wills, would he let her see any weakness that an argument would suggest?

She did not know the answer to that.

But what she
did
know was that the Duke of Balfour was interested in her once again. She had recently received a letter from His Grace, posted from Balfour Abbey in Wiltshire, where he had been attending to the management of his estate. He would be in London for Lord and Lady Rochford’s musicale and hoped that she too would be in attendance. There was something of import he wished to discuss with her….

The fact that Darius would be squiring her did not worry Serena. She would find a moment or two to reacquaint herself with the duke. She would say this for him: His Grace’s timing was impeccable.

With one month remaining on her contract with Darius, even the papers were speculating on which lucky gentleman would next become Serena Ransom’s lover and protector. There were already a few contenders on Lady Devlyn’s short list, but Balfour would be a feather in her cap, simply for the reason that Darius despised him.

It would drive him mad to imagine Balfour’s hands on her, let alone the man himself physically possessing her. For though there was no love between she and Kane, his male ego would balk at being rejected for the benefit of his most reviled enemy.

That was what she was counting on.

Serena heard the door open behind her, and knew in an instant that it was Darius. For one thing, her servants always knocked first, and for another, his scent gave him away.

Perhaps because she had spent so much time next to him in bed, Serena knew intimately the masculine aroma of his skin—the mixture of soap and spicy shaving powder, the hint of leather from riding, mixed with that of clean linen…It was a heady thing indeed.

“That looks like interesting reading,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of wickedness. “I see that you’re dressed for the occasion.”

Serena eyed him over her shoulder before stretching forward again, making the most of his posterior view of her scantily clad body.

“Satan’s bollocks,” he said, “you’d better stop that right now, or we won’t be going to any musicale tonight, I assure you.”

Serena arched her back and pointed her shoulders upward into the cobra position of Hatha Yoga, which she and the rest of the Courtesan Club had learned under Lady Devlyn’s tutelage. “I’m merely limbering myself up for you, my lord. Do you truly wish me to stop?” She walked herself up into the position of downward dog, her bottom pointing at the ceiling and her head pointing toward the floor.

“I said, stop it, Serena,” Darius warned. “We are to be at Rochford’s in little over an hour. We have no time for this—oh…that’s a new one. Oh… My… God… What are you doing, woman?”

Serena had changed from downward dog into another position, in which she stood on her head, legs spread open and stretched out at her sides, toes pointed.

“Can we do it like that?” Darius asked, his voice husky.

“Of course,” Serena answered, coming out of her headstand and sitting on the floor to finish stretching. “After the musicale. I wouldn’t wish to rush your pleasure, my lord.”

He sat in a plush chair and replied, “Nor would I wish to rush yours, Serena.”

She glanced at him slyly, seeing the desire that burned in his sapphire eyes. Desire for her. That was a heady thing, too. He wanted her, right now.

She toyed with the idea of crawling over to him on hands and knees, unfastening his breeches, and using her mouth to quickly bring him to release.

A dutiful courtesan would do just that.

But Serena had another agenda this evening, and keeping Darius in a state of unfulfilled lust would work to her advantage.

“I’ve brought you something,” he said, finally.

Serena turned toward him. “What is it?”

“Come here, and I’ll show you.”

Serena chuckled. “I’ve heard that before, Darius. And I have already seen what is in your pants, many times, in fact.”

“It’s not that, but this,” he replied, holding out a black velvet case.

Serena’s senses perked up. She knew what was usually inside such a case. So she
did
crawl over to him, catlike, and sat at his feet, gazing up like a precocious kitten.

Darius opened the case, and Serena felt a thrill shimmy through her as she beheld a magnificent necklace of diamond-set tear-drop sapphires, along with matching earbobs and bracelet. She had planned on wearing her midnight blue silk evening gown that night. These would match perfectly. The stones were the same indescribable color as Darius’s eyes.

Along with being an excellent addition to Serena’s growing collection of jewelry, these sapphires would have their own role to play, if the evening panned out as she hoped.

“They are magnificent, Darius,” she said. “Once again, your taste in jewelry is impeccable. I shall ring for Winnie to help me dress. I can hardly wait to feel them against my bare skin.” She ran her hands up his hard thighs. “And I shall properly thank you for such a gift later this evening.”