Claiming the Courtesan

Tender possession?

Curse her, but she was a fool.

He connived endlessly at her destruction while she sat gulling herself into thinking he had some regard for her. She deserved to be in this fix if she allowed herself to credit such sentimental drivel.

Verity heard Kylemore sigh. “I’ll make a deal with you, Miss Ashton.”

She lifted her chin. “I already know you don’t keep to your bargains, Your Grace.”

At least when he talked to her, he wasn’t kissing her. Even though his deep voice slid along her veins like warm honey and the motion of the speeding carriage rubbed his body against hers in a ceaseless, erotic rhythm.

“Well, this is my offer. Kiss me properly and you are safe from my attentions until we reach my hunting box.”

“‘Properly’ means what exactly?” she asked with suspicion.

He laughed. “That’s familiar—you barricading yourself behind legal definitions. Their protection is spurious, as you should know by now.”

Devil take his confidence. “If I cooperate, will you untie me?” She had nothing to haggle with. They both knew she was totally in his power.

“It depends how genuinely you cooperate.”

As he sat back, she took a deep breath. And unwillingly inhaled his essence. He seemed to have permeated the very fabric of the carriage. She wondered despairingly if he’d similarly permeated her life. Would she ever be free of him, even when this ordeal was over?

As surely it had to be over one day.

His fine-boned face indicated his irritation with her havering. “I needn’t offer you anything. You’re my prisoner. You have no say in what I do to you.”

The bastard was right. This time, hating him was no effort at all. “So I let you kiss me, and in return, you maul me no further until we reach our destination?”

Another curl of his lip. “If you participate fully in the kiss, I swear not to toss you on your back and plow you with the thoroughness you deserve.”

She swallowed nervously. “That’s not what I said.”

“No, but that’s the proposition on the table. Take it or leave it.” He folded his arms and waited for her decision with ill-concealed impatience.

Her inevitable decision. One kiss in exchange for a breathing space? A breathing space in which surely she’d find some chance to escape. She had no alternative but to agree.

Verity met his eyes in the shadowy interior. “All right.”

“Good.”

She waited for him to take her in his arms, but he didn’t move from his relaxed pose against the shiny dark leather of the upholstery. Although she told herself she should be grateful for any reprieve, however short, his lack of action quickly began to irk her.

“I’m ready,” she said sharply.

Those supercilious eyebrows rose. “I believe the arrangement was you were to kiss me.”

Would this humiliation never end?

No, it’s just started, a bleak voice inside her whispered. “Damn you,” she said in a low, hard tone. “Damn you to hell.”

“Too late, I’m afraid.” He gave her a wintry smile. “Are you reneging? To think a mere kiss defeated the great Soraya.”

She’d used her mouth on his whole body. She’d taken him in her mouth and brought him to climax. But she’d never given a lover’s kiss to him. Or any man.

It was an unwelcome and melancholy reflection.

He leaned against the padded side of the carriage, angled toward her. It was a simple matter to wriggle closer and balance herself with her bound hands on his thighs. The long muscles in his legs stirred under her fingers. He wasn’t as composed as he wanted to appear. That insight gave her the impetus to continue.