Rules of Passion (Greentree Sisters 2)

Her head fell back and he kissed her arched throat, his mouth open and hot. “Marietta,” he murmured, “we need to think of the consequences. We need to take care.”

“Why?” she demanded. “I don’t want to take care.”

“You may think you have no reputation to lose, but believe me if we are seen like this then there will be an uproar. My family have disowned me—what I do does not matter—but your family will be made to pay.”

His words were sobering, but still it was a moment before she could gather the strength to draw away from him.

“My family would suffer if it was known that I intend to become a courtesan. That is why I intend to change my name, to become someone else entirely. It is the best way. Marietta Greentree will disappear and Madame Coeur will appear to take her place.”

Max choked. “Is that what you’re going to call yourself? I thought the whole point of being a courtesan was not to lose your heart? Maybe you should think again.”

Marietta made a face at him. She was smoothing her hair back, bundling it up with one hand, while with the other she searched for the pins that were scattered all over her skirts. “I have thought and that is the best I can come up with.”

“Madame Venus? Madame Eros?” Max was watching her.

“I am no Venus,” she retorted, shifting in her tight stays.

His eyes narrowed and moved slowly over her. “I don’t know about that,” he drawled. Then his manner altered, grew serious. “You tell me you are ruined for marriage, Marietta, but it is still possible you could marry well. Your brother-in-law is a wealthy man, is he not?”

Marietta froze, and stared at him wide-eyed. It was the same thought as Vivianna had, for Oliver to buy her a husband. Pick one out for her, as she had just been choosing a pair of gloves! And what sort of man would allow himself to be bought like that? A man with no pride, a man who cared more for his position and fortune than for her. The very idea of it made her shaky and ill.

“I do not want a husband who has been bribed to wed me,” she said coldly. “I would despise such a man. Why are you saying this now? It’s because you don’t want me to be a courtesan, isn’t it? You’d prefer I did anything but that; even marry a man who has been bribed to take me.”

“Yes,” he said, “you’re right. I don’t want to see you do anything so foolish.”

“Why will no one take me seriously!”

Max stared into her eyes, reading what was there, all the passion and wonder that was Marietta Greentree. He had told himself that he could enjoy her without listening to his conscience—he had believed he really could lose himself in a hedonistic whirlpool. That he deserved her. But Max wasn’t finding that easy. He kept thinking about Marietta’s future, and what would become of her after he had his pleasure, after he had played the mentor to her pupil, and he left for Cornwall and she moved on to some other man.

Max leaned back in his seat, still watching her, feeling angry and frustrated. He must stop her. He must prevent her from destroying herself like this. But how

? He could ask her to be his mistress, he supposed, at least then he could keep her safe. But she would refuse—she had already made it clear she would never align herself to one man again, and besides, Max knew he no longer had the money or position to support her as she proposed. Unless…A grim little smile touched his mouth. Unless he imprisoned her in the ropes of desire, binding her to him so fast she could not escape, would not want to escape.

“What?” she demanded crossly. “What have I said now to amuse you?”

Max had no intention of telling her why he was smiling, but he was beginning to think he might have found a way to stop her. It was a drastic measure, certainly, but it could not be worse than the future she intended.

He reached out to flip the blind up, and then thumped on the roof. “We are taking Miss Greentree home, Daniel,” he announced loudly. “Berkley Square.”

She sighed, and pulled on her bonnet. She looked flushed and hot and adorable. Ever since he had rested his head on her lap and felt her softness and caught her scent, he had been hard. Although he was quite certain it wasn’t good for a man to be permanently erect, he knew he had to be patient. Marietta Greentree might believe herself ruined, but she was an innocent in all other ways.

Max was absolutely certain that Marietta wasn’t the kind of woman who could live as a courtesan, moving from man to man, and yet keeping her heart intact. She was warm and generous and giving, and it would destroy her. The thought of her broken and despairing, dragged down into the degradation he had witnessed on the streets and in the brothels of London, was too much for him. He must win her over.

Desire. Need. These were things her body was already beginning to crave. Now all he had to do was to make certain that it was Max she desired and Max she needed. He would bait the trap and when she entered, close it upon her.

And Marietta Greentree would be his.

By the time they reached home, Marietta had tidied herself as best she could. Max had been quiet since they left the park, but he rallied when she told him she would no doubt see him in the near future.

“When you are dreaming of kissing me, Marietta, remember…I’ll be dreaming of kissing you.”

She felt quite giddy when she got inside the townhouse, and was glad to get up to her room and loosen her stays. They really were too tight, she thought, taking shallow gulping breaths. Or maybe it was a combination of the stays and Max that made her dizzy and faint.

With a groan she flung herself back upon her bed and closed her eyes, and thought again of his kisses.

Why couldn’t it have been Max that night at the inn on the way to the Scottish border? Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with Max, and run away with him?

Her eyes sprang open. Instantly she was alert, like a wild animal scenting danger. No, no and no! She would not fall in love again, not with Max, or anybody else. Never again would a man break her heart and make her suffer. Max was well enough, in his way, but he was not a permanent fixture. A free and independent life, that was what Marietta would live, and there was no place in it for Lord Roseby.