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Authors: Scarlett Scott

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“Liar. You told me if I came with you, my father would be
given the opportunity to pay his debts.” Her voice broke.

“The deed to the home was already in my possession.” He
raked a hand through his golden hair. “I was and am still providing him with
ample time to pay the thirty thousand.”

Clarissa forced her chin up. “You may own my home, but you
do not own me, sir. You cannot make me stay here with you.”

“Where do you propose to go, my lady? Have you a relative
who will take you in?”

He knew she did not. She had confided the sad state of her
affairs to him.

“To my father in the country,” she improvised. Drat. She had
not thought of where she would go if not the Grosvenor house.

“And what if you are carrying my child?”

The notion knocked the breath from her, nearly sent her
crumpling to the floor. Despite herself, she had to admit the prospect was not
entirely unwelcome. Even after she had uncovered his deception. Even after she
knew him for the scoundrel he was. No, she must not allow herself to weaken.
There was no room for foolishness now. She had to summon up the courage to
leave him.

His look was grim. “I can see you did not think of such a
possibility. Will your father treat you to the same courtesy he paid my mother,
do you suppose?”

“What?” She searched his face, lost. The journal had spoken
of a desire for revenge, but she had assumed it was based upon something her
father had said in an inebriated state, some insult he’d dealt unknowingly.
Surely Papa was not the man who had mistreated Pierce’s mother?

“Your father is the nobleman who turned my mother out and
forced her into a life of prostitution.” Pierce sneered. “She had no family,
nowhere to go, and he refused to listen to her. She begged him, Clarissa.”

“You cannot know that was the way of it.”

“She told me herself when I was old enough to understand.”
He stalked across the room to her, so intense she had to quell the urge to back
away. “He called her a whore, told her to leave his house. The same house I now
own.”

“Dear God.”

“You don’t understand, Clarissa. You grew up with a roof
over your head, food in your belly. I grew up with nothing other than a mother
who debased herself to provide for me. I was the cause of her suffering. I
swore to myself I would make amends for the injustice done to her.”

“And so you chose me. You used me as a pawn in your game of
retribution.”

He reached out to her, clasping her arm. “You misunderstand.
I never meant for things to go so far. Initially, I thought only to ruin your
father by taking his possessions from him. But then when I saw you, and you
were the most breathtaking woman I’d ever set eyes upon…”

She scoffed. “Don’t think to feed me any more of your lies.”

“I was attracted to you from the first. When I saw you, my
plan changed. I decided to bring you here, yes, and ruin you, but at first it
was meant to be in name only. I thought you’d be petulant and spoiled, and
you’d deserve to be brought down in the world. But then I had you here in my
home, in my bed, and I couldn’t resist the temptation. I realized you were not
the woman I thought, but you were instead noble and kind. I meant to tell you
the truth, C., truly I did.”

Anger coursed through her. How could she have ever believed
herself in love with him? God, she was such a naïve, hopeless fool. She tried
to shrug off his touch. “Release me. I don’t want your odious hands on me.”

Pierce ground his jaw, his hand falling away. “I wanted to
tell you last night. I intended to do so.”

“But you did not.”

“I could not. I was afraid I would lose you.”

Clarissa closed her eyes tightly, willing away the tears
welling within them. “You have lost me anyway.”

“No.” His hands clamped on her waist. “Look at me, C. Open
your eyes, damn you.”

Against her better judgment, she did, dismayed to see the
anguish on his harshly beautiful face. “Nothing you say will alter my opinion
of you.”

“You told me you loved me,” he said, voice hoarse. “Look me
in the eye now and tell me you don’t care for me.”

She stared at him, mute. Of course he must know she could
not. Love did not disappear so easily. However, that did not mean she could
forgive him with such ease, or she could ever trust him with her heart again.

“Tell me what we have means nothing to you, and I will let
you go.”

Clarissa had no choice in the matter. He was forcing her to
prevaricate. There was no other way. She took a deep, steadying breath. “The
truth is I allowed my sense of adventure to sweep me away into a grand delusion
of romance. You and I are not of the same world, Pierce. I am the daughter of a
viscount, a lady by birth, and you are nothing more than a bastard who peddles
vices to the men of the
ton
. You are beneath me.”

“Don’t do this, C.” His tone was one of warning, his
expression closed.

“The last fortnight was a lovely interlude. Most pleasant
and…enlightening.” She mustered a watery smile. “For that, I shall be forever
in your indebtedness. But it is at an end. You may have brought me here as if I
were your spoils of war, but you cannot keep me.”

Pierce’s hands tightened on her. “I’ll be damned if I allow
you to walk away from me while you may be carrying my child. You’ll remain
until you get your courses.”

The last thing she wanted was to remain, allow him the
opportunity to change her mind. “I want to go. I will write you if there are
consequences.”

“Like hell.”

Before she knew what he was about, he bent, tossed her over
his shoulder, and carried her from the study. She protested, pounded on his
back with all her might, screeched, wailed, but all to no avail. With alarming
brusqueness, she was deposited in an unfamiliar chamber. The door slammed at
his back and the sound of a key turning filled the room with an ominous
silence.

Chapter Five

 

A maid delivered her meals for the next few days. Clarissa
was too miserable to eat. She began refusing the trays of food brought to her.
She could not escape her own foolhardiness. The worst knowledge was that
despite his deception, and despite everything she knew about him that told her
to run, she still loved him. Would always love him. She missed him with a
desperation that shamed her.

Her mind raced in the quiet solitude of her chamber. Where
was Pierce? Why had she not seen him or at least heard from him? Perhaps he had
decided she would remain his prisoner after all, the ultimate forfeit in his
need for revenge. She grew restless with wondering, worrying.

One evening as the hour for dinner arrived, Pierce breezed
through the door. Anger emanated from his strong, lean body.

“The maidservant tells me you have been refusing your food.
Will you starve yourself now to spite me?” he demanded tightly.

“This is not about you, Pierce,” she told him, equally
frustrated by their stalemate. More so that she had missed him.

“Are you unwell, then? Have you missed your courses? What is
it?” He came to where she stood by the window. He laid a hesitant hand upon her
wrist. “C.?”

How she had missed him, wanted him. Her resistance weakened.
“I am not with child.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.

“It is not certain,” she hastened to explain. “I…the time is
not right.”

“Why are you refusing meals?” His fingers curled around her
bare skin, his touch sending a current of heat through her.

She swallowed, girding herself against him. “I am not
hungry. Nor do I appreciate being kept prisoner here in this chamber with no
one for company. You cannot keep me here like this.”

Pierce gave her a hooded look. “I will admit keeping you
under lock and key was not one of my finer moments, but I did not trust you to
stay.”

“I would have left you,” she agreed softly.

“I could not have borne it.” His cerulean eyes burned into
hers. “You’ve become everything to me.”

Her heart galloped within her chest. “How could I be
everything to you after so short a time? Have you forgotten I am the daughter
of the man who ruined your mother?”

He shook his head, stepping closer to her so his familiar,
beloved scent teased her senses. “I don’t understand it, but I’ve given up
trying. What I know is you’ve completed me. You put a smile on my face. You
make me want to be a better man for you. What your father did to my mother…it
is not your fault.”

“Do you mean it?” Clarissa did not dare to believe or to
hope he could have come to terms with the past. That he could find forgiveness,
or she had somehow had a hand in taming the wild, powerful man before her. He
was Pierce Foster, the wicked rake, the hard-hearted gaming baron who ruined men
with nary a care.

“I miss you.” His thumb drew lazy circles on her bare skin.
“And I am sorry, C., for any hurt I caused you.”

Already, his presence had weakened her resolve, and now his
words were a direct arrow into her heart. Clarissa was not altogether certain
she could resist him. “Please don’t.”

He drew her hand up to his mouth for a kiss. “I can’t think
of anything but you. I walk through the club, and all I can think about is not
whether or not the whiskey is flowing freely enough or if Melmotte is cheating,
but you.”

“You’re a renowned rake, or so I’ve heard. Surely there are
leagues of women from which you could choose your next conquest.” She tried to
keep the bitterness from her tone but did not entirely succeed.

“You have every right to doubt me after what I’ve done.” The
brightness of his gaze seduced her.

“You lied to me.” Even so, she wanted so very desperately to
kiss him just now.

He kissed each of her fingers with slow reverence that
nearly undid her. “I never lied about my feelings for you.”

“You never spoke of feelings,” she reminded him.

“With my body.”

Clarissa’s own body heated at the powerful memories stirring
within her mind. He had worshipped her body, bringing her to the heights of a
pleasure she had never imagined possible. “Making love is not loving someone.”
Novice though she was to the world of love between men and women, she knew that
much at least. There was physical enjoyment and then there was rich, deep,
abiding love. There was what she somehow, inescapably felt for him.

“I love you, C.” His words were spoken so quietly he may not
have said them at all but for the unwavering strength of his eyes on hers.

“I don’t want you to tell me you love me to assuage my
fears, or to make amends for deceiving me, Pierce. Please don’t say it unless
you mean it.” She was too afraid to hope that he did.

“I mean it.” With slow, precise movements, he lowered to one
knee on the floor. “What you said the other day was absolutely true. You are
above me, my better in every sense. I have been the worst sort of sinner in my
lifetime and Christ knows I don’t deserve a lady as fine as you. But I cannot
go on unless I ask you…”

She shook her head in disbelief, wonder warring with love.
“Ask me?”

He swallowed, obviously nervous. “Will you marry me, Clarissa?
I haven’t much to offer, but I could keep you comfortably, far more so than
your father. I fear you’ll never be accepted into polite society the way you
were. But I do have friends who are lords, and you will always be welcome
within their drawing rooms. I would not dream of taking everything from you.
I’ll even welcome your father into our home should you wish it. I know I’m a
selfish bastard to even ask it of you, but I cannot live without you in my
life.”

Clarissa dropped to her knees and took him in her arms,
dropping feverish kisses on his lips. “Yes! A hundred times, yes, you stubborn,
foolish, horrid man.”

“Horrid?” He grinned unrepentantly. “Don’t use all your
flattery on me now, princess.”

“You know what I mean.” They kissed, tongues tangling before
they broke apart once more. “It was horrid of you not to tell me the truth from
the beginning. But I forgive you anyway. I don’t give a straw about polite
society. All I care about is having your heart.”

Pierce fell onto his back, pulling Clarissa astride him. Her
hands went into his hair. His hands hiked up her skirts to roam over her
thighs. He was wicked, he was wonderful, and he was all hers. In him, she had
found her purpose, her true home. They kissed and this time, it was the
sweetest of all, for it was the kiss of a man and woman finding true love.

“Make love to me, darling,” Clarissa whispered. “Tonight and
forever.”

He gave her a rakish half-grin. “My pleasure, princess.”

About the Author

 

Scarlett Scott has loved romance novels ever since she was
eleven and swiped her older sister’s books to read by flashlight in her closet.
Her mother caught her, but she remained undeterred. A self-described
promiscuous writer, she dabbles in all sorts of genres but loves erotic romance
best. She lives with her hero and their adorable but occasionally evil puppy
and spends too much time lurking on her blog.

 

Scarlett welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

 

 

 

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