Rules of Passion (Greentree Sisters 2)

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.”

“No.” He laughed harshly, and gave her a little push, so that she had no choice but to step backwards. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, I must be mad.” Then, his eyes looking straight into hers, “I don’t want to lose control, Marietta, not yet. And I will, if you keep at me like this.”

Marietta stared at him a moment more, feeling extremely hot and bothered. Perhaps he was right. Their affair had just begun and she shouldn’t be impatient. Max was for practicing with, and she seemed to be having trouble just now remembering it. In fact it had almost felt as if it was more than that, more than pretend. It had felt as if it was real…

Still, better not let him get too complacent.

“I don’t know, Max,” she said, briskly pulling on her gloves. “Of course you have far more experience than me in these matters, but I feel as if you’re in charge and I’m sure it should be the other way around. I am going to be the courtesan, not you.”

He shrugged but she thought there was a gleam of triumph in his eyes. Of course, he wanted to be in charge so that he could prevent her from getting the upper hand. It did not help that they were here in his house. That, too, gave him an unfair advantage over her.

Now that Max was recovering from his wound he would leave London. She reminded herself that although she might have accomplished Aphrodite’s first task, there was no time to waste if she was to complete them all. And come to that, how many were there, and what would they involve? She definitely needed to see Aphrodite again and as soon as possible.

She turned around, catching him by surprise. He was watching her with a wary look in his brown eyes, as if he thought she might pounce on him and…and make love to him. She almost laughed aloud. Well, she wasn’t going to do that, not yet, but she was going to ask him some questions he probably wouldn’t like very much.

It was time to get Max seriously rattled.

Chapter 9

Max was watching her, new shadows under his eyes, and she almost took pity on him, but then her gaze traveled to the bandage about his head. Was this an accident or a cold-blooded attack? For his sake she needed to find out the truth about the Valland family, and Max had to help her.

Her resolve hardened.

“Mr. Keith told me that you had two accidents only last year. Why do you have so many?”

Max felt his face go slack, and then crease up in the frown he had never learned to hide. His mother had been the same, she had been hopeless at pretending to feel something she did not feel. He had inherited her inability to dissemble and his father’s quick temper, a disastrous combination.

“Marietta, this time you have gone too far. My private life is none of your business—”

“Well, it is my business if you’re going to get knocked on the head again before we’ve finished our arrangement,” she told him practically. “I’m only thinking of myself, Max.”