Something Reckless (11 page)

This was the first moment he realized just how selfish that was. Dear God, did he even know where his mother was? Was it Italy? Or perhaps it was Spain.

Why hadn’t he cared enough to remember?

He watched as Christopher reached over and placed a gentle hand on Hannah’s knee. She absently stroked the hair on the back of his neck. There was something so intimate about those touches. Something so easy and comfortable.

For months, Jeremy had mourned the loss of his brother’s company and secretly resented Hannah for taking Christopher away from him. But looking at his brother now, he could see Christopher was
happy
.

And it put a troubling question into his own mind. Was he?
Was he
happy
carousing about London? Was he
happy
with the meaningless couplings and the hazy, alcohol-filled nights? Was he happy doing the bidding of friends whom he sometimes didn’t even like all that much?

“Jeremy?” his brother said.

He started and looked at the two. Both Hannah and Christopher were leaning forward, looking at him with twin expressions of concern.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he surged to his feet. “I forgot an appointment I must keep. Thank you for seeing me, Christopher.” He gave Hannah an awkward bow. “Hannah. Good afternoon.”

He hardly heard their good-byes as he strode from the room, feeling the flames of hell licking at his heels with every step. His brother only confused him, that was all. Jeremy wasn’t interested in giving up the life he led. It was fulfilling enough for him. It was what he wanted.

He was right. And he was going to prove it.

How did one find a man with no name? A man with no face? It wasn’t as if Penelope could put out an advertisement in the
Times
describing the stranger’s sinful touch and ask for him to send her another shocking note. That would create a scandalous stir that would be talked about for decades.

Penelope paced her bedroom, clenching her fists open and shut at her sides. When had she become this…this
wanton
?

No, she wasn’t a wanton. Jeremy had made perfect sense when he said that she needed to experience pleasure in order to understand what drove others to sacrifice everything for it. If she was going to surrender to the touch of her admirer, she would do it for research purposes, and research alone.

“Liar,” she murmured with a shake of her head.

It certainly hadn’t been
research
that had driven her to want to touch Jeremy yesterday afternoon. It hadn’t been a sense of mere
curiosity that had made her whisper her darkest secrets to him, even though she remained uncertain of his trustworthiness.

Those things had been caused by her weaknesses. Nothing more.

And yet, she didn’t regret either one. She had kept the particulars of Miranda’s marriage and the nightmare of her own to herself for a long time. Those secrets had festered inside of her, poisoning everything she said and did. Now that she had stated them out loud, she felt…free.

Perhaps it hadn’t been intentional, but that was a gift Jeremy had given her.

And now she would take one more gift from him. His permission to surrender to the stranger who wrote to her.

If only she could find that man.

With a sigh, she covered her face just as the door behind her opened.

“I don’t require anything, thank you,” Penelope said through her fingers.

“I’m sorry, but you have received a letter.”

Penelope spun to find Fiona standing in the doorway, a folded missive held out in her hand. Penelope crossed the room in a few hurried steps and snatched it away. She stared at the handwriting and her heart leapt. It was from
him
.

“Are you quite all right?” Fiona asked, tilting her head. “You are so pale and you hardly ate anything last night or this morning.”

Penelope looked at the other woman in distraction. “What? No, I’m fine. Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I want to read my letter.”

Fiona hesitated, her gaze flitting to the papers in Penelope’s hands. Penelope blushed. Fiona was the only one who had any idea of the kind of things those letters said. And her maid’s concern was plain.

“I-I know I’m not a very good lady’s maid,” Fiona said softly. “I don’t know what I’m doing, even though I’m trying to learn. But I
am
a good friend. And I
do
understand certain things, certain impulses and feelings.”

Penelope gripped the letter tighter as she stared at Fiona in surprise. She hadn’t thought her maid would want to revisit old impulses and feelings. Certainly, she had to regret her choices now.

“It may be out of turn to say it, but if you need to talk to someone, I hope you’ll think of me,” Fiona continued.

Blushing, Penelope turned away. “I…thank you, Fiona. I appreciate that offer.”

She heard her maid murmur a response and then exit the room. Penelope sighed. She
couldn’t
talk to Fiona, even if she wanted to. After everything the other woman had been through, after Penelope had convinced her to leave the life she’d once led? There was no way she could then explain how she, herself, was being lured by the pleasures of the flesh. She was certain such a confession would horrify Fiona, and rightly so.

In fact, there was no one but Jeremy whom she could talk to about the matter. And after her initial confession, she hesitated to think about giving him even more details. Especially if the letter in her hand led to the seduction he suggested she allow.

With shaking hands, she broke the seal and sank into a settee by the fire to read what her mysterious admirer had to say.

One taste
,
one touch is not enough. I know you said you couldn’t
,
but Penelope
,
reconsider. Let me give you pleasure. Such pleasure you have never known. If you want me
,
put a candle in your window tonight and leave it unlocked for me. If I do not see the candle
,
I will do as you asked and abandon all hope. But my greatest wish is that you will let me in.

Penelope crushed the unsigned sheet to her breast with a strangled groan. A war was raging inside of her. A war between her desires and her hesitations. A battle between the personal rules she had adhered to for so many years and the secret, burning needs that she had stifled over and over.

What should she do? How could she take the pleasure this man offered, understand it, and yet keep herself separate? Was it possible to allow this man his liberties and yet remain unchanged?

She didn’t know. But she would have to decide her course of action quickly. Because in a few hours she would either need to open her window or close herself off from her deepest desires forever.

Jeremy swung up onto the small terrace high above Penelope’s gardens. It was after midnight, and the house was dark and silent except for one glowing light that flickered in the bedroom window in front of him.

Penelope’s window.

It had taken some doing getting up to her room, but it was going to be well worth the trip. Jeremy smiled before he slipped a dark mask over the top half of his face to protect his true identity. As he settled it over his nose, he couldn’t help but think of seeing Penelope in her fancy mask at the Cyprian ball.

He shivered in desire before he drew a deep breath in an at
tempt to calm his ragged nerves. Tonight had to be about his plans, nothing more. He would put both his confusing visit to his brother and his conflicted emotions about Penelope’s reactions and painful confessions aside.

Tonight was about breaking down her final barriers. Then he could end this charade and return to his normal, carefree life.

Quietly, he tapped her window and the pane swung out. He stepped over the ledge and into the darkened silence of her room.

He looked around. Aside from the candle, the only other light in the room was the low fire across the room. In front of it stood Penelope. Jeremy sucked in a breath.

She was wearing a thin cotton night rail. Broad straps covered most of her delicate shoulders and the white fabric hung around her curves like an unshaped sack. But with the firelight coming through the cotton, he could still see every single curve of Penelope’s body outlined in tantalizing shadow.

And his cock went hard as steel in an instant.

“Hello, Penelope,” he murmured, and this time it took no effort to make his voice low and rough with desire.

She turned to face him, obviously startled by his voice. In the dim firelight, he saw her expression relax with relief. She had thought he might not come to her, as he had promised. Thanks to her past, disappointment and humiliation had become her expectation. The realization made his chest ache with unwanted empathy.

“I notice you didn’t raise the light in your room,” he said softly as he stepped forward, still cloaked in shadow. “You make no effort to see my face.”

She shoved her hands behind her back. “Y-Yes,” she stammered. “I mean, no. I think it is best if I don’t know your identity. In some ways, I wish you did not know mine.”

He stopped moving as that unwanted guilt he’d felt the day before returned. She feared he would betray her. And now he had to promise that he wouldn’t when there was no bigger lie. He
would
do so. He had to.

“So you want a secret lover,” he purred, ignoring her fears instead of telling a direct untruth. “You want someone you can pretend away in the cold light of day.”

She bit her lip and nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose that is true. In the day, I don’t want reminders. I don’t want distractions from the actions I must take. The things I must do.”

“I am most happy to oblige you,” he said as he closed the final gap of space between them and reached for her hand. Lifting it, he pressed his mouth to her knuckles. His tongue darted out, and he stroked it between her fingers.

Penelope shivered, a movement that worked from her head to her toes. “But I do have some stipulations,” she said, breathless.

He hesitated. There was something unexpected. “Stipulations?”

She pulled her hand away, pressing it against her chest. “I cannot simply throw away all caution and responsibilities. I must retain
some
level of control.”

Jeremy held back a chuckle. So that was her game. How entertaining it was going to be to wrest every semblance of control from her.

“And how do you propose you do that?”

She backed up and her tone was businesslike, despite the remaining tremor in her limbs.

“I do not want to know your name nor your face,” she said, ticking off her statements on her fingers. “I see you are wearing a mask. I ask that you continue to do so, and I will keep my room dark when you come to me. Will you promise not to reveal yourself?”

He bobbed out a nod. That was an easy promise to make. He didn’t want her to know who he truly was. At least, not unless it was absolutely necessary.

“If you promise not to ask me who I am, I promise not to reveal myself to you.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Agreed. You must also vow you will not approach me in public again. When we were at the Trimble ball, it was too great a risk. We must keep our-our—”

“Trysts,” he offered, noting how she shivered again at the word.

“Yes.” The word came out as a strangled croak. “We must keep them private.”

He folded his arms. “I can agree to that.”

“And my final stipulation,” she said, shifting uncomfortably, “is that I do not want you to-to breach my body with yours.”

Jeremy rocked back on his heels and he was surprised enough that he didn’t alter his voice when he burst out, “What?”

Penelope tilted her head and looked at him in questioning. For a moment, he thought he had been found out, but then she shook away her doubts and said, “I do want what you have to offer. I want it more than I probably should. But I can’t go that far. I shouldn’t.”

He pursed his lips. “Let me make sure I understand you. You want me to touch you, but never breach your body. You don’t want my tongue, my fingers, my cock…”

She turned away, but he wasn’t sure if it was in embarrassment at his boldness or because she wanted to hide her arousal.

“No, I want your mouth.” Her voice broke. “I want your fingers. I want everything except I don’t want you to put your…”

She stopped, and Jeremy bit back a growl of frustration. “You don’t want me to put my cock inside your body, where you ache most. Is that it?”

She nodded without turning back.

He shook his head in wonder. Did she really think that would keep him from changing her? If she protected her body as if she were a virgin, then the rest somehow wouldn’t count?

He stopped short. That was it. She thought that if she allowed him everything but the final act of sex, she could somehow keep herself distant from the connection two lovers invariably formed. That the experiences he introduced to her wouldn’t be as intense. As meaningful.

Looking at her, he considered his options. If he refused her harsh, frustrating terms, she might shy away from his offer entirely, and that would do his cause no good. If he took her bargain, though, he would have every opportunity to prove her wrong. Prove that there was no way to protect herself from desire.

Prove that denying herself the ultimate physical act would only make her crave more, not less.

“Very well,” he conceded as he reached out and caught her elbows. She didn’t resist when he drew her back against his body,
molding her into him until he felt his cock rub between the smooth globes of her backside.

Penelope gasped at the feel of him so tightly against her, but she didn’t run.

“And I have one term of my own,” he murmured, letting his tongue trace the shell of her ear.

She moaned instead of answered.

“If I agree not to fill your pussy with my cock,” he said, loving how she jolted with the pointed words. “Then you must grant me full access otherwise. I want you in every other way. Is that fair?”

As he asked the question, he smoothed his hands around and cupped her breasts, letting the soft mounds fill his palms as he massaged her gently.

“Oh God,” she moaned, her knees buckling just a little.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, blowing his hot breath against her sensitive neck.

“Yes, yes,” she cried as he plucked her nipples to hard peaks beneath the cotton.

Jeremy stifled an urge to say thank God, and instead spun Penelope around to face him. Her blond hair, which had been bound loosely away from her face, now threaded down around her cheeks in little loose waves. The dim light showed just how wide her blue eyes were. And her ragged, uneven breathing let him know how much she wanted him even more than any words could convey.

With another low growl of pleasure, Jeremy caught the straps of her gown and yanked them down from her shoulders. The
oversized night rail fell away with little urging, bunching around her ankles and leaving her instantly exposed.

If her reaction was any indication, that was not a state she was comfortable being in. Unlike the experienced women who had graced his bed more recently, Penelope didn’t thrust her breasts out or coo and simper to show herself to the best advantage. Instead, she lifted her hands to her breasts, turning her face so that her expression was hidden by shadow.

For a powerful moment, Jeremy hated George Norman with his entire being. As a husband, the man should have taught Penelope how beautiful she was. He should have made her proud of the power she had been given with her desirable body. Instead, the bastard had made her tremble, not in pleasure but in fear and humiliation.

But her mystery man wasn’t supposed to be privy to those facts. Only Jeremy, her friend and confidante, knew the truth of her past. He would have to be careful to make sure he didn’t reveal that they were one and the same.