ruined."
"Not necessarily." She paused to kiss her lover. "He might enjoy watching.
Or even participating. A threesome might be enjoyable. I might even be able to bear his touch if you were here helping."
"The way you help with the serving girls?" They shared a laugh. A secret lover's laugh. And, on the other side of the door, Blake had clenched his fists in anguished impotence. He knew that voice. That laugh. He'd heard it many times before. He struggled to maintain control, agonizing between the need to see for himself and the desire to remain in the bliss of comparative ignorance.
"I can't help it." Meredith purred, "I'm so jealous of them. You've spoiled me for other men. I don't like it when you take other women."
"They're just a substitute for you. For when it's too dangerous for us to be together," he groaned.
"Truly?"
"Truly," he promised.
"What about your wife?" Meredith asked.
"She means nothing to me," he avowed. "Now open up, my beauty. Spread your legs for me. Let me in."
"Oh, God! Oh, Jack!" In the moment of supreme pleasure, Meredith cried out her lover's name.
And Blake quietly opened the door.
She lay on the huge bed, the bodice of her wedding gown open, her lush breasts exposed and glistening with the wetness of Jack's mouth. Her skirts were crushed about her waist, the satin crinkling in rhythm to the man pumping between her legs. Jack. Her lover.
His first cousin.
Blake fought to keep from retching at the sight of his bride with his cousin. The man who had always been as close as a brother was sprawled between Meredith's thighs. For the first time in his life, Blake wanted to kill. Both of them. "Get off." His voice was calm, his actions clearly restrained as he grabbed Jack by the back of his collar, pulled him from the bed, and flung him into the opposite wall. Jack howled as his nose smashed forcefully into the wall.
"Cover yourself!" he ordered Meredith, ignoring Jack's cry.
She ignored him. She continued to lie with the bodice of her wedding gown open and her skirts bunched up around her waist as the mark of his cousin's possession seeped down her inner thighs.
"Isn't this what you wanted? To be discovered. Isn't that why you didn't bother to lock the door?" Blake spoke in a harsh whisper. "You were hoping I'd walk in."
She smiled at him. "Of course."
"Am I the only one who rates a private performance of wedding day adultery or should I shout down the stairs and invite all of our wedding guests to come up and witness this?"
"Why don't you?" Meredith countered.
Jack paled. "Have you lost your mind, girl?" he demanded hoarsely. "My wife is downstairs. What if he does it?"
"He won't." Meredith was confident. She stared at Blake, daring him to invite the cream of London society to share, to witness--her wedding gift to him. Daring him to carry out his threat and expose his family, friends, and colleagues to scandal on the day of his wedding.
He wanted to. He wanted to call the guests to come see his adulterous wife.
He wanted someone else to witness the unspeakable. His wife involved with his cousin. His married cousin. But that was the rub.
Meredith Brownlee was now his wife and any scandal that linked her with his cousin would hurt other people. Innocent people. Jack had a wife and two adorable children. A scandal would taint them as much as it tainted Jack.
Blake wouldn't risk the scandal. And Meredith knew it. He was too honorable, too ambitious, and too full of youthful idealistic pride.
The bedroom door was open. Blake waited until Jack crawled toward it, then slammed the door shut, turned the key in the lock, and pocketed it.
"Sensible, very sensible." Meredith leisurely fastened the bodice of her gown.
"What do you want?" Blake ground the words through his clenched teeth. He had been set up from the beginning. Neatly snared, like an unsuspecting rabbit.
"I have what I want." Meredith smiled at Jack. "We have what we want."
"And that is ..." Blake gripped the bedpost
"Not necessarily." She paused to kiss her lover. "He might enjoy watching.
Or even participating. A threesome might be enjoyable. I might even be able to bear his touch if you were here helping."
"The way you help with the serving girls?" They shared a laugh. A secret lover's laugh. And, on the other side of the door, Blake had clenched his fists in anguished impotence. He knew that voice. That laugh. He'd heard it many times before. He struggled to maintain control, agonizing between the need to see for himself and the desire to remain in the bliss of comparative ignorance.
"I can't help it." Meredith purred, "I'm so jealous of them. You've spoiled me for other men. I don't like it when you take other women."
"They're just a substitute for you. For when it's too dangerous for us to be together," he groaned.
"Truly?"
"Truly," he promised.
"What about your wife?" Meredith asked.
"She means nothing to me," he avowed. "Now open up, my beauty. Spread your legs for me. Let me in."
"Oh, God! Oh, Jack!" In the moment of supreme pleasure, Meredith cried out her lover's name.
And Blake quietly opened the door.
She lay on the huge bed, the bodice of her wedding gown open, her lush breasts exposed and glistening with the wetness of Jack's mouth. Her skirts were crushed about her waist, the satin crinkling in rhythm to the man pumping between her legs. Jack. Her lover.
His first cousin.
Blake fought to keep from retching at the sight of his bride with his cousin. The man who had always been as close as a brother was sprawled between Meredith's thighs. For the first time in his life, Blake wanted to kill. Both of them. "Get off." His voice was calm, his actions clearly restrained as he grabbed Jack by the back of his collar, pulled him from the bed, and flung him into the opposite wall. Jack howled as his nose smashed forcefully into the wall.
"Cover yourself!" he ordered Meredith, ignoring Jack's cry.
She ignored him. She continued to lie with the bodice of her wedding gown open and her skirts bunched up around her waist as the mark of his cousin's possession seeped down her inner thighs.
"Isn't this what you wanted? To be discovered. Isn't that why you didn't bother to lock the door?" Blake spoke in a harsh whisper. "You were hoping I'd walk in."
She smiled at him. "Of course."
"Am I the only one who rates a private performance of wedding day adultery or should I shout down the stairs and invite all of our wedding guests to come up and witness this?"
"Why don't you?" Meredith countered.
Jack paled. "Have you lost your mind, girl?" he demanded hoarsely. "My wife is downstairs. What if he does it?"
"He won't." Meredith was confident. She stared at Blake, daring him to invite the cream of London society to share, to witness--her wedding gift to him. Daring him to carry out his threat and expose his family, friends, and colleagues to scandal on the day of his wedding.
He wanted to. He wanted to call the guests to come see his adulterous wife.
He wanted someone else to witness the unspeakable. His wife involved with his cousin. His married cousin. But that was the rub.
Meredith Brownlee was now his wife and any scandal that linked her with his cousin would hurt other people. Innocent people. Jack had a wife and two adorable children. A scandal would taint them as much as it tainted Jack.
Blake wouldn't risk the scandal. And Meredith knew it. He was too honorable, too ambitious, and too full of youthful idealistic pride.
The bedroom door was open. Blake waited until Jack crawled toward it, then slammed the door shut, turned the key in the lock, and pocketed it.
"Sensible, very sensible." Meredith leisurely fastened the bodice of her gown.
"What do you want?" Blake ground the words through his clenched teeth. He had been set up from the beginning. Neatly snared, like an unsuspecting rabbit.
"I have what I want." Meredith smiled at Jack. "We have what we want."
"And that is ..." Blake gripped the bedpost
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