The door creaked with disuse. It was indeed dark, with only one window in the cavernous space. She maintained her position at the door, one hand gripping the frame, the other fisted at her side as she fought the suffocating sensations swamping her.
There were odds-and-ends pieces of furniture scattered about, a couple of trunks and the like. Brandon glanced at her, his frown speculative.
Black edged her vision. She fought it back, attempting to sound her normal self, addressing Agnes. “What of other rooms on the same floor as the nursery?” Her words sounded as an echo in her ears.
“There ain’t nothin’, milady. Just Miss Rowena’s salon. I think it was used as a schoolroom at one time. She tore out the walls, creatin’ a large open area.”
Anything to escape the attic and the feeling that she was underwater again. Would those memories when she was five stay with her forever? “I-I should like to see it.” She rushed down the stairs, gasping for a bracing breath. Slowly, her heart resumed a more normal rhythm, and the sense of dizziness dissipated. She gazed about the salon. It took up a large portion of the second floor. Beautifully furnished. The decor could not be faulted. Floor-to-ceiling windows faced the garden to the back of the house. There was an ornate fireplace in the only corner.
“It’s lovely,” Maeve breathed, attempting to calm herself. The courtesan had outdone herself in this space. Maeve guessed it had been more than one room before its remodel. What need would an exclusive courtesan have of a schoolroom after all?
Now that she was out of that stifling attic, she found her pulse slowly returning to normal. A second later, large hands landed on her shoulders. He turned her to face him. The light from the windows behind him kept her from being able to read his expression.
“You’re pale. What is it?” he asked her softly.
Maeve shook her head.
Harlowe turned to Agnes. “You may be excused, Agnes.”
Agnes’s footsteps faded away, and Maeve took advantage of the moment to pull herself together, even if she couldn’t quell her fluttering stomach. She stepped away, moving to the window and glancing out at the garden below. She would need a gardener. “What a nice room, my lord.”
“What is all this ‘my lord’ nonsense?” he groused. His gaze narrowed on her. “I think you are doing your best to provoke me.”
Maeve studied the area with a critical eye, though her abdomen dipped with an onslaught of uninvited butterflies. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You’ve garnered that cavalier air to perfection, haven’t you?”
She felt Brandon’s stare through to her soul. If she dared to look at him, she’d be lost. “I have no notion of what you’re talking about.”
The sudden silence grew thick with anticipation. Slowly, she chanced a peek over her shoulder—and was… lost.
He stalked over to her, grabbed her by the upper arms, and shook her. “God Almighty, if you aren’t the most irresistible—” he said on a huff, then covered her mouth with his. Her lips parted with her surprise, and he took full advantage. His tongue swept in her mouth in a shocking intimacy she’d never before experienced.
The act stunned her. She stiffened beneath him. Then, breathing in through her nose, she was instantly intoxicated by the strength of his hold, the molding of his lips on hers, and the utter scent of his masculinity. She was inundated by the heat of his tongue swirling about hers. She wound her arms about his neck and pulled him tighter to her, and he jerked her away from his body, somehow keeping her on her feet.
It was not a gentle motion. “Please tell me no.”
“For what?” she said on a breathless gasp.
Groaning, Harlowe kissed her again. He would never get enough of her. He tasted her spiciness, her curiosity. They dragged him into a mindless stupor. Her arms locked behind his neck, and her fingers gripped his hair, pulling him to her. She seemed to return his kiss with reckless abandon. He moved his hand over her breast and gently squeezed. Despite the perfection of her height, she was not overly endowed. She was slender, and just thinking of tasting their sweetness had him sucking at her tongue as if her nipple were already in his mouth. He jerked away from her, adrenaline surging, and in a swift motion, he swept Maeve off her feet and strode to one of the larger couches, lowering her to the cushions.
“Brandon?” she said on a breathless whisper.
He went down on one knee. He hadn’t been with a woman in over a year. He shook from the effort to remain calm. “Hush, darling. I must have you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Her guileless blue eyes of stared back as she swallowed with an audible gulp. Yet she never looked away from him. It was an interminable amount of time before the tip of her tongue dabbed at her lips and she nodded. He positioned himself over her, resting on his forearms. Her arms crept around his neck.
Harlowe was desperate to toss her pretty, striped skirts over her head, but it had been likely longer for her than him. Alymer had been dead for three years if memory served. He almost laughed at the thought of his memory being served. He couldn’t laugh now if his life depended upon it. He lowered his mouth to hers and reveled in its feel. How her lips mimicked his.
His entire body burned with need, a heat so intense it could melt glass. Her lips parted and his tongue dove in, seeking hers. Her fingers knotted in his hair, pulling him closer, creating an invisible binding from her to him. He relished it. He broke from her and trailed his mouth to her neck, down to the swell of her breast.
Brandon slid his hand down her waist and tugged at her skirts until he reached her stockinged calf. The farther up he moved, the more rapid her pants became. He moved his mouth up to hers once more and hovered there. He’d reached the bare skin of her thigh. “Spread your legs, my darling. Let me in.”
Slowly, she did as he asked.
He cupped her mound and his hand fairly singed with the fire emanating from her sex. She was wet, but he wanted her begging. He ran his thumb over the cleft, searching for the hidden jewel within. He touched it and caught her scream with his mouth as she exploded in his arms.
Refusing to relinquish his hard fought kiss, he fumbled with the placket on his trousers then shoved them over his hips. His erection was heavy and fierce. Painful and desperate for release. He drew up alongside her, fitted himself between her legs and worked himself inside. “You’re so tight, so exquisite, so—” Unable to help himself any longer, he surged to the hilt, breaking past an unexpected barrier.
