The Veiled Heart (The Velvet Basement Book 1) (9 page)

“Where did you go, Lily?”

“Humph. You’re not a mechanic, are you?” She took a few more steps back; an odd rolling was in her stomach. “I liked you being a mechanic.”

He relaxed his stance. He held the box of sheaths out to her as she looked at him.

“You haven’t answered my question.” Suddenly she really needed to know. Make sure he was who he said he was. The idea she had made a mistake, had gotten close to a man of her class, sent her heart pounding.

All the tension was returning. Her shoulders inched up and her hand was stiff as she reached out and took the box.

“Maybe this is a mistake. I think you should leave.”

“Tell me one thing. Did you look for me tonight?” He moved very close to her. The hot warmth of him was in the air between them. “Well, did you? Did you wonder where I was?” His hand lifted and touched her face through the veil. “I did, Lily. I wondered all night what you were doing. Pinned in my chair, locked in company I could not extricate myself from. In the back of my mind, I hoped you would be right here, but I knew you were off somewhere only God knows, running the gauntlet for your cause.” He held up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong; I admire and support what you want to do, but for heaven’s sake, have some regard for your own safety. You may not care if you live or die, but I damn well do!”

She spun around.

Had to put her back to him as her chest heaved and her eyes burned. Everything he said was true. She had looked for him. Of course she had.

An inexplicable connection was between them. This was the third time they had seen each other; the third night in a row, and already he was pushing all plans of living a solemn single widow’s life right out of her head. He was firmly lodged in that cold dark chamber called her heart, warming it up one layer of kindling at a time.

And she wanted it.

Wanted to believe she could feel this, have this with someone. Trust someone.

His hand settled on her shoulder and gently tugged her around.

“Lily, I’m sure there is enough blue collar about me to keep you interested. Why are you so against a man of station? The better you think my standing is, the more you distrust me.”

He stilled to gauge her silence.

“If I were a gentleman, would you have propositioned me?”

She shook her head.

“No?”

“I don’t play with two-faced devils… ever.”

He was stunned. His face reflected his surprise and an odd tension.

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“That’s the way it is. So who are you? I need to know.” She stepped forward, her insides shaking but her mind set. “If… if you are not who you say you are, if you are a man of my station, I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”

He moved restlessly. He looked at her, annoyed. Everything about the way he held himself reflected his need to guide what they were talking about. It took a lot for him to step back. For him to really listen to her and what she wanted right now.

“I don’t understand. Most women would be delighted with a man of good social standing. You are a woman of station. Wouldn’t you want a man to be your social equal?”

“No.” She didn’t hesitate. Her answer was a gauntlet on the ground between them: a challenge, a dare.

“You had the marriage of the decade. A debutante’s dream.”

“How dare you. How dare you to think you know me and my life.” She moved closer to him and hit him with her shoes. “You know I don’t like this disparity between us. You think because you worked out who I am that you know me. And yet, you haven’t had the decency to present yourself. Even now, you are hiding something, and I am not interested in secrets or men who like to keep them.”

He looked at her with dark eyes; his lips in a thin line, scowl lines etching into his forehead. But he didn’t say anything. The wheels were turning for him; she was sure of that, but he wasn’t stepping forward.

“Your time’s up. Get out, this is private property.” Her voice shook. Her chest was constricting around her lungs and her damn hope was protesting wildly. However, there were some chances she couldn’t take more than once in her life, and a man she couldn’t trust was at the top of that list.

His hand came out and held her from walking away.

“Lily, it’s complicated. I didn’t expect you to feel this way.”

“That’s not going to be enough.”

She moved out of his hold and started to walk to the gate.

“I mean, I don’t even know what to call you!”

He moved beside her.

“It’s true I’m not a mechanic, but I do like to fix things. I just do a little more of other things for a few extra pounds.”

“Why are you so well dressed and why do you carry yourself the way you do? That takes years of breeding.”

“I went to a good boarding school and was befriended by some boys of better backgrounds. An ambitious man learns quickly, Lily. I have done reasonably well and am well connected.”

It was believable. He was very capable, very sure of himself. A man without means had to have guile. She stopped walking and took a shaky breath in.

“What’s your name?”

His hands slipped into his pockets. Then a scowl etched deeper into his face and he allowed them out again.

“Max. Maxwell.”

She tilted her head to the side and arched her brows. Did he really think that was enough?

He stood up straighter. Reached for her hand and bent over it.

“Maxwell Edgar Masterson.”

Max Masterson
.
The corner of her mouth lifted and a warm ripple ran through her.

His fingers tightened on her hand and as he rose, he tugged her close.

“Max,” her breath whispered out and the corners of his eyes creased.

He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lips.

“Is it wrong for a man to better himself, to aspire to be a better man? I have resources. I have connections; is that wrong?” He leaned closer; his gaze scanning her, assessing her as he slowly lifted his hand and ran it down her neck.

Her nerves fluttered.

He was tense, upset with her, maybe even angry; and yet, he was being so careful, so gentle.

She moved forward, stood close to him as one hand came around her neck; the other went around her waist and pulled her close.

Lily slid her palm up his chest, over his much too expensive coat. He didn’t have to be a working man to be safe. Just not part of the untouchable elite.

She was aware of an odd tug in her chest. Her heart was dragging her forward, wanting to keep this new friend, this connection, whatever it was. Another part instinctively knew there was more. But he had made a step. He was Maxwell Edgar Masterson.

“No. No, that’s not wrong.” Her face tilted up at him. Max leaned down, unpinned her veil, and kissed her. Slowly, unhurriedly despite the tension still radiating from him.

The taste of her seeped into him and began uncurling the tight knot in his gut.

A tight knot which had warped and twisted all night as he fulfilled his obligation as a host. A Worthington dinner was expected to be an event worth attending and that meant he, his mother, and sister presented in grand form. Even if the guest of honor had not come.

Lily pushed closer to his chest, a soft bundle of fragrance. His hands naturally tightened. A slight shift in the air rippled through the trees around them, a rustle of whispers as if they assessed his dilemma. He needed to present himself, who he was; and yet she had admitted she would reject him outright. What did a man who wanted a woman do? She deserved his forthright honesty. However, she deserved him more. And if she would reject him out of hand because of his good fortune to be well placed in society, he would have to make it impossible for her to put him aside.

He had already committed to helping her make her life meaningful, and focused on what she saw as her purpose. He wanted to make her flourish in his care, blossom in his arms as a passionate woman who wanted to explore that journey with him.

This desire took on new meaning. He would have to show her how good they were and could be, how they were meant to be, before he revealed himself. In addition, he needed to make sure he didn’t wait so long he would be inadvertently revealed or the deception would hurt her pride past anything the good between them could compensate.

However, before everything else, he needed to make sure she stayed safe.

Worthington let her go and straightened the small hat coming loose on her head.

“Where were you tonight, Lily?”

Irritation flashed across her face as she stepped back and worked to fix the hat herself.

“My actions and activities are none of your concern.” Lily dropped her hands and moved to walk past him.

Irritation spiked through him; as she passed, he grabbed her arm, holding her still.

“I don’t intend to manhandle you, Lily, but we need to sort this out.”

She shrugged out of his hold and tilted her chin up at a stubborn angle. If the matter weren’t as important as it was, he would almost smile at her battle stance.

“Lily, tell me exactly where you were and what you did tonight. Did anything happen?”

“Yesterday was highly unusual. I have been going out for various reasons for months now and I’m perfectly safe.”

“You said you could have used me tonight.” Images flashed in his mind of last night, the desperate glances over her shoulder as she ran, the pistol clutched hard in her hands, her shaking after the man went down. The tight pain in his gut came back in force. Didn’t she know that what she was doing was life threatening without solid precautions and protection?

“Men worry far too much about far too little,” she huffed.

A quick turn on her heel and she started back toward her terrace house.

The way she dismissed his concern sparked an immediate reaction. Her total rejection of who he was, the hours sitting scared to his bones of what she was facing or where she may have gone.

He moved fast.

She yelped as his hand came around her and lifted. He was strangely satisfied.

“What are you doing?” her voice held the tightness she had when she was being stubborn.

Her resistance, as he marched her to where he wanted, was immensely satisfying. His pent-up tension started to want a different avenue of release.

“I need some answers, Lily.”

Under the cluster of trees, they were covered in the shadows. He needed to know she was whole, to touch her, to have her clasp around him. Damn it, to need him.

“I asked a reasonable question and I need an answer.”

An indignant huff was all he got.

She struggled but it was all pride. Her hand was sliding its way up his chest and her hips were pushing up against him even as she twisted her face away from him.

“Lily.” He clasped her chin and turned her to look at him. Naturally, she twisted out of his hold.

“If we hadn’t met two nights ago, you would be oblivious of me and what I do or don’t do. Now it seems I can’t navigate without your oversight. This is not going to wash.”

“You are outlandishly stubborn; and for an intelligent woman, quite blind to the fact that you can’t do everything alone.”

He could understand her need to be her own woman. He understood and admired it. Nevertheless, the world wasn’t built in a way that made it easy for her to do what he could do. She needed help and protection, and he wouldn’t leave until that was at least sorted. There would not be another time he would be stuck wondering if she were in the cargo hull of a sex trader’s ship.

That darker, deeper need washed through him. Worthington ran his hands over her, there were no rips, no blood, no dirt.

She flapped her hands uselessly at him.

”Stop that; this is really too much.”

“Your clothing is intact.”

Heat shot into her face immediately. ”Of course, it is. What do you think I do at night?”

Both her hands pressed against his chest and pushed.

“Do you think I saw someone else?”

He let her go and growled. He didn’t like her pushing him away. It was wrong. Something in him ignited with her keeping him at a distance.

“No!”

He had not seen her like that, not from the moment he saw her at The Velvet Basement, and not after he knew who she was.

“Lily, that wasn’t what I meant. You could have been hurt. Yesterday you shot a man. For God’s sake, where is your escort?”

Where was her god damned self-preservation!

She straightened her skirts and looked up at him.

“So you don’t think I saw someone else?”

His face screwed up. “Of course not!”

Her face got a tight look as though he had said something wrong.

“Well, for your information, you are not the first man I have had and you will not be the last. Now if we can wrap this….”

Her hand flapped about at him again as if her ridiculous gesture explained everything.

“Other men find me attractive. I could, in fact, take them up on any number of offers.”

Hot anger flashed through his chest at her ridiculous statement. He knew what it meant and he would deal with it. Right. Now.

In three deft moves, Max reached her. With his lips on hers, his hand slipped around her neck as his fingers pulled down on her chin so her mouth opened under his. Max. Delicious ripples of need pulsed through her as his tongue told her clearly what he wanted them to do. Max. He had a name now, and what a name.

Lily’s hat shook loose and the box of sheaths fell to the grass as the distance between them disappeared.

To curl her fingers in his hair, tighten her arms, and tug him closer was the most natural thing. Everything fell into place when they were like this. The world dropped away and it was just them and the hot thumping pulse of need that drove them. He must feel the same. The way he pushed her to respond to him, his touch, the tight squeeze of his fingers, the hungry desperate way he ate at her lips. A man didn’t do that if he didn’t feel something. Then there were the sounds he made as she arched into him, hungry sounds in the back of his throat and deep in his chest.

A few steps back and she was pressed against the trunk of an old oak tree, which was cool and rough at her back.

Oh God, how often had she leaned up against this very tree praying to be free, praying that Freddy would just not come home? And here she was praying the man in front of her would never leave, never stop touching her like he was.

Max tugged her head back and his mouth lifted from hers just a fraction.

“You haven’t and you won’t, Lily.”

For a moment, she couldn’t think. Ahh, the taunt, that she had other men lined up, that he was one in a ream of men she worked her way through.

The idea was laughable but here she was with his body pressed into her. That hard hungry need he had was burning through her in his every touch and she wanted more. Of course she did, any woman would; he was wonderful and he made her feel like she was the most desirable woman he had every held.

“How do you know?” her voice was thick, and a ripple fluttered in her belly.

“You’re playing with fire, Lily.” He bit her lip; it stung and excited her all at once.

She was in a new position. To want a man’s attention, even to taunt him, to know he was already upset with her and yet push, push for more. She never could have dreamed she would have the courage to do that to a man when she was with Freddy. Freddy would have lived on the misbehavior for weeks.

She pushed him again.

“Am I? Seems to me you will never really know.”

She couldn’t see him this close, since the illumination from the few gaslights in the background didn’t reach them. But the softening of the tension around him filled the air. The fingers threaded through her hair eased fractionally.

He dipped back down and the touch of his lips on her face was soft as he kissed along her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her ear.

“Oh, I know, Lily.”

Her hands slid up his chest, under his arms, and around his back. He pulled her tightly against him, dropped his hand around her hip, and rocked her over him. The pleasure of him, of the closeness, was the promise of how they could come together. She knew that now. These delicious moments were signals, remembrances of what it was like when it all fell away, when there was no thought just a pure wanton need to pull together as closely as possible. Move together until the universe ignited.

“How?” she whispered between them.

“Ah, the way you hold back a fraction as you explore me, as you struggle to put on the sheaths.”

Her heart tripped in her chest, missed a beat.

“The way I had to ease into you as if that warm, damp space had been waiting just for me, had been dormant for years. The way that each time we have come together, tightly bound passion bursts from you as if it has been damned up forever.”

New heat exploded in her chest and rushed up her neck and face.

Lily slipped her finger between them and over his lips.

“Enough. You make me feel naked.”

The night had been full of anticipation, waiting for his silhouette to show up to confirm they had that golden thread between them. That no matter where she went, he would find her. He would show up and be where she wanted him to be. Impossible, she knew, but he had been there for two impossible nights.

Her teeth nipped at him.

“Kiss me.” Her voice was sulky. She had waited and not been greeted with the lustful abandon she was thinking about all night, and now his mouth was not where she wanted it.

His lips continued to kiss her face, but not her lips.

“Do you know what it felt like knowing you were out there tonight and not being able to get away?”

She went to move her hands higher up into his hair, to draw him to her lips, but he squeezed his arms and effectively pinned hers against him.

“You’re upset with me.”

“One day you will appreciate how hard tonight was for me, Lily.” He nuzzled into her neck, sending shivers through her body.

“You’re angry.” Her heart beat a little faster.

“I am seething with frustration and I want to let it out.” His hips pushed forward suggestively. “And….”

He started a delicious rocking motion against her. Hot achy need fanned through her hips, between her legs, and up her spine.

“And what?”

“And….” He dipped down to her ear. “I was worried.” His voice was hoarse, a tight guttural sound as his lips kissed the shell of her ear.

“You were?” She could tell by the sound that it cost him to tell her, to reach down inside that masculine need to direct her and override it, override it and instead give her what she needed to hear.

“No way to find you. No idea what would happen. On top of a rather disappointing night of my own, I am not in the best of moods. You can’t go out without me, Lily.” His teeth bit at her earlobe.

Tension curled up her back, warring with the warmth he was building in her. She wriggled to move away.

He held fast and bit down at the side on her neck.

“Never alone, and not without me.”

The tension won and pushed hard through her body, tightening her jaw. This freedom, who she was, was hard won.

“No!” No one would tell her how to live her life again. Ever. “You have no rights over me, Max. Just because I enjoy this with you gives you no right.” She pushed hard at his chest. She was a fool to think any man would be different.

“Step back, I’m going in.”

In seconds, the lace he removed was around her wrists and he was lifting them above her head. He hooked the lace on something on the tree trunk. Instinct took over; she kicked out. His hand came around her waist and twisted her around so she was facing the tree. His body pushed her from the back and each of his hands was on either side of her head. In that moment, nothing existed but him. Him and something else that was building into a blind wash of fear.

“We’ll sort this out first, Lily. There will never be a time when I don’t know where you are and that you are safe!”

“Let me loose!” She pushed back at him and her coat snagged on the bark.

“Say you will not leave the house at night on your crusades without me or an escort.”

The hardness of him pushed at her back; his hand slid down between her legs.

Her chest tightened to the point it was hard to breathe.

“Acquiesce, and I will make you very pleased you did.” His hand moved between her legs. “For my sanity, at least. Lily, please.”

Her heart beat fast and she yanked her hands down as hard as she could. She struggled, pushed back against the weight pressing against her.

Bile started to rise in her throat.

“Lily?”

The sounds were suddenly so far away. Heat flushed through every nerve in her body. Everything was going to fall apart, and she along with it.

“Lily!”

Arms came around her and lifted. Her hands fell free. She kicked and struck out wildly.

Then she was on the ground, the cool grass under her, and those arms were around her, rocking her.

“Shhhhh, shhhhhhh.” The sound repeated softly at her ear. She sensed a smell; not of anything that she could recognize, but it reminded her of warmth. Her muscles relaxed and her back eased into that warmth, a soft hint that said she was safe after all.

“Close your eyes. It’s all right.” His hand ran over her hair. She twisted so her face pushed into the top of his coat and his neck. That place under his chin and below his ear.

Max. It was just Max.

She took one breath and then another.

Gradually, her breathing slowed. The heat and tightness in her chest lifted.

Oh, hell, what would he be thinking?

“That hasn’t happened for the longest time.”

He was quiet. Just holding her, rocking her slowly.

Around them the leaves seemed to whisper as if the whole park was wrapped around her. The air was fresh; she could stretch out if she wanted.

“What did he do to you, Lily?”

Her chest constricted and that old band tightened at her throat. Boxes could be very small, not big enough to sit up in and not big enough to lie down, dark, hot. He’d placed her in the box, naked under the dining table, during a dinner he’d held for his university friends. He’d left her there for hours after everyone left; and in the very early hours of the morning, his loyal footmen had carried the box down to his room in the basement. It had been dark and she had been so weak, lightheaded and her body like aspic, jelly. She was tied face to the wall, and he flogged her for soiling the box.

The next day, they had attended the opera, London’s fairy-tale couple. What had he done to her? The time would never come when she would be able to say the words and not have a part of her die all over again.

“I just panicked.”

His arm came around her more tightly. It should have made her feel claustrophobic but it didn’t.

“I would never hurt you, never. You know that.”

“It’s nothing. I just don’t like to face the wall with someone close behind me. A childhood thing. I thought I was over it.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

She should get up.

“Lily.”

“Don’t.”

Behind her, his body’s tension flooded into the air again. She understood this was hard for him. Whoever he was, he was used to things going his way more than they had in their dealings together.

“Perhaps you should find someone easier? I’m sure a man such as you could have his choice of dowdy widows.”

His hands squeezed her. He’d done that the first night when she panicked. If he wanted pleasure, this was an odd road for a man to walk. But it was a taste of that pleasure she wanted if he could navigate it, even for just a while longer.

“Will you be going out tomorrow?” he asked.

“You’re persistent, Max, I’ll give you that. Yes, I am going out. I have things to do.”

“Promise me, we’ll go together. I worried about you tonight.”

“You were more than worried; you were angry with me. If you are going to stick around, you need to accept that I’m going to do as I wish.”

“And I am going to accompany you. That’s what lovers do.”

She was still tucked in next to him. Her teeth bit down on the soft skin at his neck.

“Ouch!”

“I’ll be nothing but trouble.” She kissed the bite.

“It’s hard to find a troublesome woman.”

A part of her chest warmed at that. She stood up with his help and wobbled a bit as she regained her balance. Panic attacks were something she thought were buried in her past. Somehow Max, her Blue-eyes, was reaching down into the depths of her ocean and drawing out the things that were better left down there. Her hopes, but also those fears.

“How will I let you know”—she couldn’t believe she was saying this—“that I will be heading out?”

He was brushing down her skirts; her words made him stop.

That wonderful way his hand slid around her neck, squeezed, and pulled her close for a kiss was almost worth the concession.

“I’ll have a boy wait outside your house. Have a staff member tell him where and when, or give him a note. He will deliver it to me.”

“For a sort of mechanic, you seem to have resources.”

“I have a bit. Enough to buy you another bit of lace!” He gently unwound the broken fabric from her wrists. “I should have been gentler with you.”

Her hand touched his chest. Was it just a few nights that they knew each other? The warmth of him, the soft scent of his body heat was what she wanted wrapped around her. To take him by the hand, lead him into her house, into her bedroom, and lock the door.

“I wish you could come inside.”

He turned toward her townhouse and drew her up against his side as he walked.

“Who lives in the house with you?”

“My aunt and staff, and no, you can’t come in!”

He laughed. “Just tell me which window is yours. I’ll wait down here, panting, and watching for you to walk back and forth.”

“I have the bedroom there.” She pointed. “Second floor, last on the left.”

“Aren’t the master suites in the front in these town houses?”

“I never liked that room and besides I get a wonderful view of the common garden this side.” She didn’t much like the house, either.

His hand squeezed her side gently in acknowledgment.

They came to the gate that led into the back garden. He opened it, then leaned down and kissed her. The soft warmth of his lips was like a home she had needed a long time ago. That dream was dead, but the feel of him and what she could dream about now would be enough.

“I’ll have the boy outside from four in the afternoon.” His tone was earnest, as if he challenged her to disagree with him and this massive victory he had won from her.

“I’ll send a note,” she replied

His hand slid under her chin and tilted her face up.

“I trust you, Lily. This isn’t a light request.”

A part of her wanted to remind him yet again that she was her own boss, but they had both had enough for one night.

He kissed her again. It began light, wistful, but ended up heated and hungry. They both had tensions they were leaving in place tonight.