Rules of Passion (15 page)

He beamed at her. “They’re from the rose garden at Valland House, miss. Mr. Harold and Miss Susannah kindly asked to have them sent up.”

“They’re both very fond of your master, aren’t they?”

“Oh yes, miss. Mr. Harold and Master Max are like brothers and always have been, and Miss Susannah is like his sister. At least, they were, before—” He broke off, glancing away uncomfortably.

Marietta would have liked to have asked him more, but even she had her limits when it came to gossiping with servants. Besides, Pomeroy would see it as being disloyal and she did not want him to feel he had betrayed Max.

“How is Lord Roseby today?” she asked, as she followed his slow progress up the stairs.

“More like his old self, miss.”

Marietta pondered on that as they edged toward the master’s suite, wondering if it was entirely good news. Max’s old self, in her experience, could be both haughty and arrogant, and may prove difficult to get along with.

At any rate, Max was no longer languishing in his bed. Dressed immaculately in a dark blue coat and tan trousers, he was seated in a small sitting area that overlooked the back of his townhouse, and although his handsome face remained pale and gaunt, he rose to his feet as she entered.

“Miss Greentree.”

“Lord Roseby.”

Behind them, Pomeroy closed the door.

“I see you are much improved, Max,” Marietta declared as she sat down in the chair opposite him, but she noticed that he could not quite hide his relief as he also resumed his seat.

“As you see, hale and hearty.”

“And you’ve had your man of business here?”

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s right. I had the matter of my future to discuss, such as it is.”

“You seem in good spirits for someone who has nothing to look forward to.”

“I told you I was fine, and there was no need to call on me, Marietta.”

“Ah, but there is our agreement. I’m certain you haven’t forgotten
that
, Max.”

Max gave her a long look from beneath his lashes, a look she had difficulty in reading. “No, I haven’t forgotten that. I wish I could.”

“I hope you don’t intend to try and wriggle your way out of it,” Marietta said, wagging her finger at him like a governess in charge. “I won’t release you from your promise, you know.”

“This is utter madness,” he answered in an exasperated tone.

“But it is temporary madness, Max,” she reminded him. “And I’ve told you, we’re practicing, that’s all. In fact I think we should start right now.” And with that Marietta leaned forward and placed her hand on his knee.

He went still, eyeing her hand as if it might explode.

“I want you to imagine I am a courtesan, Max. A woman of experience and sophistication whom you have just met…and whom you deeply desire.”

She had dropped her voice on the final word, giving it what she thought was a sensual overtone. She never expected him to grin at her.

“Max!”

“I’m sorry, but you look nothing like ‘a woman of experience and sophistication.’ You look like…like Marietta Greentree.”

“You have to use your imagination,” she said, trying not to be irritated by him. “You’re just not trying.”

He pulled his face back into the haughty frown. “I
am
trying but it is too ridiculous. You have a vivid—”

“No, it isn’t. Haven’t you ever seen a woman you instantly desired? You are at a ball or a supper dance or some such thing, and you see her across the room. Just one glance—that’s enough for you to know that you want her. Everything about her entices you to her side, her elegant dress, the smooth line of her neck, her enigmatic smile. You can’t resist. You go to her and persuade her to go home with you, and in the
coach you cannot take your eyes off her. Or, maybe you are riding your horse across the moors…”

“There are no moors in London.”

“Then a park!” she retorted, her eyes bright and eager, caught up in her own fantasy. “You’re riding through the park, and you see a girl up ahead, hair flying beneath her hat, riding like the wind. As you draw level you glance sideways at her and see her profile, her figure, and something in you responds. Instantly, immediately. You want her. Hasn’t that ever happened to you, Max?”

“No,” he said unhelpfully. “As I was going to say when you interrupted, you have a vivid imagination, Marietta, but it has nothing to do with reality. I see a pretty woman across the room at a ball, I may speak to her, yes, and ask her the usual bland, polite questions, but as her chaperone will be seated right beside her, watching her like a hawk, I certainly won’t be taking her home in my coach. And then there’s the galloping girl. Has the horse bolted on her, and if not…I wonder what the hell she’s doing out on her own. If she’s a lady then she’s a fairly rackety one, and if she isn’t…well, I would probably have a few qualms about whether I should become involved with her or not. The scandal, you know. Or at least, that was a consideration before I became a scandal myself.”

Marietta had grown impatient with him long before he had finished his little speech. “You are being far too practical and pragmatic. Don’t you have any imagination at all, Max?”

“No, but I’m sure you have enough for both of us.”

She sighed and sat back in her chair, glaring at him. “This isn’t working,” she muttered to herself.

“I told you—”

“I won’t give up.”

The determination in her voice caused him to make a sound between a laugh and a groan. “You really are unstoppable, aren’t you?”

Marietta pretended to consider it. “I don’t know. I’m young yet. Perhaps one day something or someone will come along who will be able to stop me. Gerard nearly did. But not you, Max, and not yet. Are you going to cooperate?”

“Have I any choice?” he said darkly.

She smiled, dazzling him. “Not really.”

Max wondered once again how he could have fallen into the clutches of Marietta Greentree. There he was, innocently going about his business, and then Miss Blue Eyes appeared upon the scene, and nothing could ever be the same again. He was about to commence an affair with a beautiful blonde who kept him awake at nights. The truth was, he hadn’t a chance of resisting her—she just didn’t know it yet because she was too innocent.

And there was his problem, really. He had been brought up a gentleman and gentlemen didn’t seduce innocents—even innocents whose reputations were in tatters.

Abruptly Marietta stood up and, before he could struggle to his feet, leaned over him, her face very close to his. Curiously he stared back at her, wondering what she would do next and hoping he could bear it with fortitude. After a moment he found himself thinking that her skin was really very fine, like cream, and her eyes were the clearest blue he had ever seen, framed by those curling lashes so much darker than her hair. And her mouth, like a bow with
a curl at the edges, always trembling on the verge of a little smile. Oh yes, he found her mouth endlessly fascinating and extremely kissable.

His breathing had quickened—he felt his chest rising and falling. How had that happened? He clenched his hands upon the chair arms to stop himself from reaching out for her, but she had already stepped back, frustration in every line of her.

“I don’t know what to do,” she wailed. “I’m relying on you, Max, to show me what to do! You promised. I thought a gentleman never broke a promise?”

Somehow he kept his face bland. “You are playing the part of the courtesan, Marietta, surely the seduction is in your hands?
I
am not the one who needs to practice, after all.”

She gave him a belligerent stare. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Max? Frustrating me like this, being a stick in the mud. It’s probably what you do best.”

He didn’t deny it.

She walked around him, her skirts swishing, her pretty vivacious face set in stubborn lines. “Max, I’m relying on you, I really am. At least kiss me—show me how to do it properly. At least do that. You kissed me last time I was here.”

“You caught me in a weak moment, Marietta,” he said.

“Then pretend this is another one.” She came to a halt in front of him, her hands on her hips. “
Please
.”

He wanted to say no. He should say no. But she was so woebegone, and it was so ridiculous, a beautiful young woman begging him to kiss her. Max heard himself say, “If you insist,” and then thought that that was even more preposterous.

But it was too late to change his mind.

With a smile of triumph, Marietta leaned in to him and planted her lips firmly on his. And stayed there. It was, he thought, like being held prisoner by an angel fish. Oh God, she didn’t even know the basics of kissing a man—hadn’t
he
taught her that, the man who had ruined her? Was Max going to have to show her everything?

Kiss her, you want to, don’t you! She’s asking you to for God’s sake, so do it.

Gently, Max lifted his hands and rested them against her shoulders, pushing her back just a little, enough for him to be able to speak. “A kiss is more than just touching lips,” he murmured. “You have to caress with your mouth. Feel the other person, nibble and suck and even bite, gently. Like this.” And then, like a fool, he proceeded to show her, using his lips against hers in the most delicate, and yet the most intimate, of ways.

Her mouth was soft and uncertain, but definitely not reluctant. He flicked his tongue across the surface of her bottom lip, and then drew it into his mouth. She made a little sound in her throat as if she liked it, and promptly did the same to him. He pressed deeper, his tongue now inside her mouth, not aggressive, but seeking out her own. Tentatively, then with growing confidence, she followed his lead.

How long since he had kissed a woman like this? There had been a time when he thought only of women and the mutual pleasure being with them could bring. He’d earned himself something of a reputation, although that hadn’t stopped the matchmaking mamas’ pursuit of the Duke of Barwon’s only son. But lately…sexual pleasure had become
little more than a quick tumble, a moment’s release from his troubles, and soon forgotten.

This was different. Marietta Greentree was different, and he didn’t understand why and he was beginning to think that even if he did, it was too late to fight it.

When at last he broke off their kiss, Marietta’s eyes were closed. She was bending over him, with her palms resting heavily against his chest, and her lips parted and flushed from his. “Oh,” she breathed, with the flattering air of one who understood everything now.

Max wondered if his head was spinning due to weakness from his wound or from Marietta. His heart, too, had redoubled its efforts to escape from his chest. And yet his voice, when he spoke, was calm and in control, and not showing any of the insanity he knew he had fallen prey to.

“Now you kiss me,” he heard himself say in that reasonable voice, and knew it would be the Bedlam for him.

Her lashes lifted and she gazed at him from languid blue eyes. “Do you think I can?”

“It’s what courtesans do.”

She licked her lips and he almost groaned aloud. And then she tilted her head slightly, to avoid their noses getting in the way, and began to do to him what he had just done to her. He had to hold his arms rigid, to prevent himself from grabbing her and molding that soft, delectable body to his. Marietta might not be an expert but she was keen, and she had a seductive charm that Max had noted from the first. Perhaps she would make a good courtesan, perhaps
it
was
her destiny to follow in her mother’s footsteps, as she claimed, but there was a resistance to the idea inside him that he couldn’t explain, and didn’t want to explore.

Marietta felt as if her insides had liquified, turned hot and sweet. She wanted to curl up on Max’s knee, and cling to his neck and kiss him forever. Why had no one ever told her that a kiss could be like this? So sensuous and powerful. Not just the prelude to the physical act of connection, but a book all on its own.

Max’s tongue slid against hers, and she heard him moan as if he couldn’t help it. His hands were now clasped about her waist, tight, and when she would have pressed closer he held her away. Keeping her at a distance. Except for her mouth.

It should have felt detached, but there was something very erotic about that distance between them. Knowing that they were separated by so little, and yet their mouths were fused so hotly. But still she wanted to get closer, to mess up his hair, twist those exuberant curls around her fingers, and then she wanted to undo the buttons of his coat, one by one, and explore. She hadn’t forgotten the night he had lain, naked, in bed and she had seen most of him.

There must have been a sound at the door, but Marietta didn’t hear it, and she was positive Max didn’t either. But the next moment there was a furious clattering, as if a tray of tea cups had been caught in a gale. Shocked, Marietta turned just in time to see Daniel edging back out of the room, his eyes lowered, and then he closed the door with a clunk. There was no doubt he had seen them kissing. One of Max’s servants had seen them kissing.

Embarrassing as it was, she didn’t care.
I’ve done it!
she thought.
I’ve completed my first task…
And yet she had been so busy kissing Max, and enjoying it, that she hadn’t given a thought to Aphrodite. Becoming a courtesan had been the last thing on her mind.

Had he enjoyed it, too? He was just pretending, was he, playing a part? Huh! She let her lips trail over his jaw, little biting kisses, and then she flicked her tongue against his skin, tasting him.

He shuddered. “Marietta.”

And she knew then that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Whatever he might say, his body wanted hers. For some reason she felt relieved by this knowledge. It gave her a sense of power over him, a sense of immunity from being used and abandoned.

Max sighed and turned his face so that her brow rested against his cheekbone. “I think we have shocked the servants enough for one day,” he said in a voice she hardly recognized. “Enough, Marietta.”

“Why?” she protested. “He’s gone now, and we’ve only just begun. Kiss me again.”