The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress (The Lairds Most Likely 7)

"I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention." He inclined his head in what was almost a bow of apology. "Common sense says that if you can find a more congenial way to ensure your boy’s future than marrying Cecil, you should take it."

"You know what the world calls women who sleep with men for money."

"I know the world is full of cruel definitions that bear little resemblance to the subtle reality of human relations."

Stubbornly, she shook her head. "I can’t accept what you offer."

"Why the devil not?" He spread his hands in bewilderment. "I already know a week of you won’t go near to slaking my appetite. I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you."

That insidious warmth, the same warmth she felt when he called her his darling, snaked down to form an uncomfortable mixture with her outrage. And her regret. Because without Gerald to worry about, the idea of lingering in Brock’s arms was too tempting.

Lingering in his arms until he tires of you, a nasty voice said inside her head. What happens when he moves on to the next woman who takes his fancy?

Selina knew what would happen. He’d leave her behind with a broken heart and a ruined reputation.

"How would we manage it? Would you set me up in a discreet house somewhere? Visit me when you’re free?"

"Why not?"

"And what would I tell Gerald? What happens when people find out? How will it be for him, when his school friends learn that his mother is the Earl of Bruard’s doxy?"

Brock’s lips tightened. "People wouldn’t find out."

Her shoulders slumped with the despair she’d spent months struggling to beat back. "People always find out," she said flatly.

"Then walk away from me after this week, but let me settle some money on you, so you can tell Cecil and his harridan of a mother to go to Hades. Accept my help, Selina, no strings attached. Don’t make me have to think of you in Cecil Canley-Smythe’s bed. Don’t make me have to picture him heaving about all over you, grunting and sweating and touching you with those thick fingers."

She flinched at the horrid pictures Brock summoned, although he said nothing she hadn’t thought herself. Unsteady hands twined in her creased olive green skirts. "You’re too generous, but I can’t take your money."

Self-mockery darkened his face. "Any amount of money is worth it, if it buys my peace of mind."

She shook her head. "No, you can’t make me believe that you make this offer out of selfishness. You’re being kind."

"I’m more than willing for you to pay me back in passion, if you feel you owe me anything."

He was joking. Selina knew he was. But her voice was adamant when she replied. "I can’t accept your money, Brock. You must see that."

"I don’t," he said with a hint of sulky charm. "My money saves you from Cecil. It saves me from thinking of you with Cecil."

She shook her head again, although some craven, venal part of her said she was already his lover. What would it matter if she accepted payment? The world wouldn’t judge her any more kindly, if she gained no financial benefit in return for forsaking her good name. In fact, the world would no doubt call her stupid as well as loose, if she walked away with no reward for sleeping with Brock.

But she knew better. She made a helpless gesture, as she struggled to find the words to explain her refusal. "Last night when I accepted your invitation, I expected pleasure."

"I hope so."

"And guilt. And self-hatred. But it hasn’t been like that. When you’re…inside me, I feel purer than I ever have in my life. Despite the wickedness of what we do together, with you I’m true to myself in a way I’ve never been before."

An arrested expression settled on his striking features. "You’re saying there’s virtue in the honesty between us?"

"I’m saying that I vowed to love Roderick, yet I never did. I vowed that I’d be one flesh with him, yet for the last five years of our life together, I banned him from my bed."

"He was faithless."

"He was. But then, in my heart, so was I." She paused. "My contract with Cecil is based on monetary gain. He knows it. He even likes it, because his wealth gives him power over me. But the bargain between us is at base a sordid exchange. I’m selling him my body, just as much as I’d sell you my body if you paid me. The cleanest union I’ve entered into is this one with you. I’m here because I want you. In this house, we’re equals, no matter the gulf in wealth and status between us. As you said before, we return desire for desire." She paused. "Do you understand?"

His gaze was steady and full of that admiration that bolstered her soul – and frightened her at the same time, because it would be so easy to become addicted to it. Once she left this house, she went back to being Cecil’s penniless bride and meek doormat. Yes, Cecil.

"You’re so brave. You humble me."