TWO DAYS OF TEMPTATION: Brothers Mortmain Book 2 Read online

  Sebastian reached to cup the back of her head with his hand, feeling the silkiness of her hair, and held her steady as his mouth caressed hers. Her rigidity began to melt away. Again she sighed and he redoubled his efforts. He didn’t understand why it was so important to him to win her over, only that it was. Her lips opened a little bit and he ran his tongue between them.

  Her breath came out in a gasp.

  Her lips parted enough for him to slip his tongue inside gently, tasting her. She pressed closer, her arm encircling his neck, her fingers finding the length of ribbon he’d used to tie back his hair. Her breasts were warm and soft against him, and the hand he rested upon her hip itched to begin exploring.

  But not yet.

  His kiss grew more daring. He sucked on her succulent bottom lip as her fingers fluttered against his nape. A sound of pleasure escaped her. Her tongue met his, tentatively at first, but when he did not push her to go faster than she was willing to go, her courage grew. Her mouth fused with his.

  Triumph surged through him.

  Kissing the women he sent for wasn’t something Sebastian usually did, but now he was wondering why not. The experience was far more erotic than he’d imagined. The last time he had kissed someone with such attention to detail had been... No, he’d promised himself not to go there.

  Their mouths parted and rejoined, the kisses growing more intense. The taste of her filled his head, while the feel of her clothed body against his was driving him to madness. He wanted more.

  “Take off your clothes,” Sebastian said.

  * * *

  The command brought Hannah back with a jolt. His mouth on hers, the warm caress of his lips, had sent her tumbling into a world that she’d thought she had locked away. It seemed she’d been wrong. How could she have forgotten, even for a moment, why she was here?

  Take off your clothes.

  His blunt words reminded her that this was a transaction between strangers, not a romantic interlude. Whatever Sebastian felt, it was very different from her own emotions. He didn’t even know who she was! To Sebastian she was just a whore bought at the local inn, to use and then turn out into the night again.

  Her heart was beating fast, but perhaps that was from their kisses. She tried to calm her senses. Was this the moment for her to tell him the truth? To do what she’d come all this way to do?

  Hannah touched her sleeve and felt the shape of the knife hidden inside, strapped to her arm. She planned to hold its point against his heart and make him beg forgiveness if he did not do so willingly. But not yet. She would know when the time had come.

  “Janet, I will not ask again.”

  His breath was warm against her lips. He kissed her lightly, with the promise of that same intensity that had been her undoing a moment ago. Hannah found herself reaching for her fastenings with trembling fingers, and began to undo them one by one. She must have been too slow because he found her hands with his own, and set about the job himself. He was surprisingly efficient for a blind man. Or perhaps, she told herself bleakly, it was just that he’d had plenty of practice.

  Her gown gaped and he tugged at the neckline so he could explore further. His fingertips brushed against her bare skin, moving to discover the swell of her breasts. The aching pleasure caught her unawares. Memories, too, but this time she was determined to block them out. Who would have thought that after two years her body would still sing this song? She could feel the peaks of her breasts tighten and the moist warmth grow between her thighs.

  Hannah might tell herself she hated Sebastian, but her body told a different tale.

  He bent his head and now she felt the brush of his blindfold against her. It startled her. Did he wear it because of scarring to his eyes? She knew no details of the accident that had blinded him. She’d only heard about it later, much later, and even then what she had learned had been sketchy. He’d gone abroad to France, they’d said. Some said with a lady. But by that time Hannah had not cared. She’d been too caught up in the dreadful events that had changed her life forever.

  His mouth closed over the hard bud of her nipple. Warm and wet. The sensation was exquisite. She found herself anticipating his actions, holding her breath until the past overlapped with the present. He touched her with his tongue, circling first one peak and then the other, taking them into his mouth in such a way that her entire body melted with pleasure. She clasped his head against her breasts, arching her body toward him. Offering herself.

  Hannah knew she should pull herself out of this spell, but the truth was she didn’t want to. This was Sebastian and she was shocked to find that despite all that lay between them, she had missed him. His mouth, his hands, the murmur of his voice, they all now combined to weaken her resolve.

  His mouth had returned to hers, and she sighed as he kissed her deeply. If she kept her eyes closed then she could pretend they were together in her chamber, the curtains drawn about the bed, safe and warm and in love.

  “Straddle me,” he said, his lips barely leaving hers.

  She tried to stop and think, but he was already reaching to clasp her thighs, lifting her so she was astride him in the chair. His ran his hands up beneath her skirt, over her calves in their well-darned stockings to her bare thighs. Though a man’s touch was not new to her, she gasped.

  It was a shocking realization, but Hannah now knew how much she had missed these feelings. This passion. She could lie to herself all she liked but now she knew. She felt as if the past two years had been a dream.

  This was real. Sebastian’s fingers touched the swollen flesh between her thighs. He murmured as he found her telltale slickness. Hannah gave a soft moan and he kissed her mouth while his fingers slid inside her lower lips. So dizzy it made her, she hardly noticed him unfastening his breeches—not until he grasped her hips and pulled her against him. She felt the nudge of his cock at her entrance.

  Too late now, she told herself as she wrapped her arms about him. Even if she’d wanted to stop, her own need had tipped the balance from rational to imprudent. She wanted him. She told herself revenge would be all the sweeter in the aftermath. Yes, first she would satisfy her cravings and then she would unburden herself.

  Hannah smoothed her hands over his broad shoulders and clung to his neck, pulling away the ribbon so his fair hair came free. She could smell his scent, so familiar—who would have thought she would remember such a thing after so long?

  His cock moved against her, pressing for entry, sliding inside her. Her inner muscles rippled about him and he groaned in helpless pleasure. He thrust deeper, reaching down to stroke her swollen bud. She cried out in surprise as a climax took her and her body went rigid. By then he was driving deep inside her, reaching for his own satisfaction. Hannah felt another wave cresting, buffeting her, as the glory of it swept her up.

  It seemed a long time before she came to her senses. She was lying limp against him, replete from her pleasure. Her head was on his shoulder, while his was resting against the back of the chair. A strand of his hair tickled her cheek. She was aware of the heaving of his chest against her breasts, and the trembling of her thighs, which a moment ago had been tight while she strove for climax.

  Hannah heard his indrawn breath and thought he was going to speak. She reached up blindly to touch his jaw and felt the rough brush of his whiskers against her fingertips. The sensation seemed far too intimate and her heart shot her a warning. Hannah needed to protect herself if she was going to escape this meeting unscathed.

  Perhaps he felt it too, because he turned his head away from her touch. Then he was standing up, pushing her off him so she dropped ungracefully. Only his steadying hand on her arm preventing her from ending up in a heap on the hearthrug.

  It seemed their assignation was done and she had yet to extract her revenge.

  “Prentiss will bring you something to eat.” He spoke with kindness, but it was clear he was finished with her.

  She watched, swaying unsteadily on her feet, as he made his way across t
he room to the door, avoiding the pieces of furniture before him as if he could see as well as she. Vaguely she heard voices.

  Her legs finally gave way and she sank into the chair, feeling his warmth lingering in the upholstery. Her fingers clenched in the folds of her skirt and she was starkly aware of the warm, wet evidence of their coupling.

  Hannah wanted to weep and rage at the unfairness of it all. She had come all this way to punish him and instead her own body and turbulent emotions had betrayed her. What was the point of railing at him for past misdeeds now? He would laugh at her, and rightly so.

  “Janet?” Prentiss had arrived, silent as a cat.

  She struggled to get up, so weary now she didn’t know if she could. “I don’t want any food,” she said, holding back tears. “Will you be so good as to drive me back to the inn?”

  To her surprise Prentiss gave a chuckle. “The master wishes you to stay the night. Aren’t you the lucky one? Don’t happen too often. Usually he takes his pleasure and sends ’em off, but you... You must be special.”

  “Special.” Hannah blinked at him in the firelight. She could refuse. Perhaps she should. But there were words that needed to be said. She knew that she must remain here. Her chance for revenge was not done yet. If only she wasn’t so tired she would be able to plan. But she yearned for sleep and perhaps if she rested she would be able to think more clearly.

  Prentiss however had other ideas. “Come and eat.”

  Trudy had laid out some crusty bread and a bowl of thick soup. Hannah realised she was starving. How long had it been since she had eaten? She couldn’t remember. She’d spent the past six weeks on the road, searching for Sebastian. She’d been like a crazy woman, she understood that now. When she’d set out from her London home she hadn’t bothered to tell anyone where she was going. She certainly hadn’t explained herself to Mrs. Parsons. All she’d thought about was finding Sebastian and facing him and lancing the boil of her darker emotions.

  Such a small thing that had set her off. Nothing, really, and yet Hannah had felt compelled to go upon this journey. Driven. Now here she was. It was unfortunate and worrying that matters had not gone as she’d expected them to.

  The two servants spoke together in hushed tones while she tucked in, glancing at her every so often. The master’s change of heart seemed to be their main topic of conversation but Hannah was too tired to care. She needed sleep. She needed to regain her equilibrium. She needed to plan.

  Soon Trudy showed her to a bed in a small room at the back of the house, and as soon as she closed the door Hannah climbed beneath the covers and fell into exhausted slumber.

  3

  Two Years Before

  Hannah glanced over her shoulder at the glow from the house. Sebastian tugged at her hand, drawing her deeper into the garden. The scent of the flowers was strong, making her head swim, or perhaps that was being with him. The man she loved.

  The attraction between them had been instantaneous. Had it really only been a month ago that he had asked her to dance? Her first season on the ton, and the Earl of Mortmain’s son already had set his sights on her. Hannah was in a whirl. She ignored the warnings, especially Desmond’s lecture on propriety and gentlemen who weren’t to be trusted, and instead followed her heart.

  At first there had been kisses, stolen in private, when they could sneak off from the crowd. Then, at a soiree in Mayfair, he had kissed her so passionately Hannah had felt as if she might take flight. And tonight, at the duke’s ball, he was leading her away into the gardens.

  There was a summer house, built to resemble a classical temple, and Hannah smiled in delight as he led her inside. The interior was furnished for comfort, including a sofa overflowing with cushions. A moment later Sebastian had pulled her down onto it, and he was kissing her with a deep passion that stole away any will she might have had to resist. She clung to him, her mouth melding to his, her body suddenly so warm and tingly she couldn’t get close enough.

  He groaned and his hand slid over her breast, thumb stroking the firm peak beneath her silk bodice. It was Hannah who helped him undo the fastenings, and Hannah who asked him to make her his.

  “Although I am already yours,” she told him. “I always shall be.”

  The sensation of his body pressing into hers, the breach of her maidenhead, and pain and pleasure intermingling. She cried a little, and he mopped up her tears with his handkerchief. Then they made love again, slowly this time, with a heart-wrenching tenderness, and he swore he would love her forever.

  Hannah turned over in her bed, her cheeks wet with tears. She was dreaming of the past, and the innocent young girl she had left far behind.

  * * *

  Outside, Sebastian stood and let the cold wind, with its gusts of rain, strike against his skin. The weather was bitter on the Yorkshire moors but he enjoyed the sense of desolation.

  It suited his mood so well.

  His father, the Earl of Mortmain, didn’t understand. Instead he wanted his eldest son and heir safely residing in London, where he could reinstate him into polite society.

  “Marry. Produce an heir of your own,” the earl had told him. “You made a mistake. It wasn’t your fault the girl died. There’s no need to squander your life because of one mistake.” His impatient, practical tone showed how oblivious the man was to his son’s pain.

  Sebastian felt as if he’d already thrown away his life. He’d wasted it with stupid pranks and japes, just as his two brothers, Gervais and Maddox, had. If he was now facing an unpromising future then he had only himself to blame. He’d had a chance for true happiness and he’d let that rosy future slip through his fingers. It was his fault she was dead and losing his sight seemed a just punishment.

  Janet, the whore tonight... She’d reminded him of the woman he’d wronged and still couldn’t forget. The memory disturbed him, yet he’d ordered Prentiss to keep her here and not send her back to the inn. No doubt he was a fool, and the comparisons between that woman and this would only make his dark mood darker. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. Like picking at a scab, he was preventing the old wound from healing.

  He’d have her stay tonight and no longer. Just tonight. In the morning he would send her back to whatever cesspit she’d crawled out of. The unkind thought only blackened his mood further.

  Although... He found himself remembering her kisses, her resistance that had turned to a desperate need to join with him. She wasn’t like the others. There’d been no coarseness about her, no forced eagerness with the ennui never far from the surface. He was familiar with the behaviour of these women, but he shouldn’t judge all whores the same. She could be a lady fallen on hard times. She wouldn’t be the first to do so. Yes, that seemed the likely answer. And probably why she reminded him of his dead love.

  Sebastian smiled as he remembered Prentiss’s surprise when he had instructed the old man to give Janet food and a bed. He had heard it in the man’s voice. Not that Sebastian cared what Prentiss thought, but it was true that he rarely kept a woman beyond one encounter. Usually that was enough to satisfy the cravings of his body and leave him with a dark cloud of self-disgust. All his life he’d wanted to be the sort of man others admired, yet he seemed doomed to failure. The women...well it wasn’t their fault they could never be the one he truly wanted.

  He yearned for a ghost and to bring the dead back to life was beyond even his remarkable father’s capabilities.

  Sebastian shook his head angrily, then reached up to take off the blindfold with cold, fumbling fingers. The bite of the rain against his exposed skin was welcome. Sebastian opened his eyes. He could see a faint glow from the lamplight inside the windows of the manor house. For almost two years he’d been locked in darkness and had believed it would always be so, but then a few months ago he’d begun to notice he could pick out shades of grey.

  At first he hadn’t believed it—he certainly did not mention it out aloud—but as time went on he was able to discern more and more. Sometimes the effort
made his eyes ache and water, especially in bright light, but he’d persisted, and his sight had begun to return.

  Now, if the moon was full and the sky free of cloud he could see the shape of the hills against the horizon and the vast sweep of the moor. Some would find that pitiful in comparison to having full use of his sight, but Sebastian hoped that in time he might be able to see almost as well as he used to. For him to see at all seemed a miracle he did not deserve, but nevertheless was one for which he was profoundly grateful.

  The doctors his father had brought after the duel had been infuriatingly indecisive. Their opinions differed widely. One of them insisted the bullet that grazed his temple had permanently erased his sight, while the other had insisted that in time the shock to his system might lessen and his sight repair itself. When his sight had not returned after one year, Sebastian’s father had given up and advised him to accept his disability.

  “You’re blind. Get yourself a cane.”

  Sebastian knew the harsh words were meant to help him cope with his new life. Though his frequent absences had left his children unruly, his father was never one to coddle his sons when he was present. But that didn’t mean he did not love them. By being cruel he’d hoped to shock Sebastian into accepting his condition.

  “Come to London,” the earl had said on his last visit. “There are plenty of women who will not care whether you see or not. You are the future Earl of Mortmain, boy! Why do you want to spend your days in this godforsaken place?” His father had never liked the manor house on Youlden Manor.

  “It suits me,” Sebastian had replied.

  His father hadn’t liked that. He didn’t like to be reminded of Sebastian’s folly, and to be fair, the earl had done his best to mend the matter. But some situations were beyond even his ability.

  Now Sebastian blinked. The soft glow before his eyes was getting brighter, and it seemed to move back and forth. For a moment Sebastian stared at the smudge of shifting light in wonder, then he gave a snort of laughter as he realized it was only Prentiss coming to find him, carrying a lantern.