Read Online Perilous Pleasures by Jenny Brown - Free Book Online Page B

continue, by using his rusty lover’s skills to make her want him more. The memory appalled him.
    Barely a week after receiving the letter that told him he’d been chosen to be the Dark Lord’s heir, he’d betrayed his master’s trust and come within a hairsbreadth of violating the vow of chastity he’d maintained for nine long years, that vow whose fulfillment had made him fit, finally, to avenge his sister. No, he must be honest, he had violated it. That he hadn’t gone on to orgasm under the girl’s ministrations was unimportant. He had opened himself up to her, blended his energy with hers, and given her something that couldn’t be recalled.
    And the most damnable thing about it was that even now, when he knew how serious his lapse had been, the sight of her ankle peeking from behind the thin edging of her gown was causing his indomitable manhood to stir again. He still lusted for her, though he knew full well that his cursed lust was the reason he’d failed his sister. He still wanted what Zoe had offered. He, who had sanctified his manhood to earn his absolution.
    Zoe stirred on the carriage seat beside him, heaving a small but poignant sigh. He wanted to be angry at her. Her behavior last night had been more than shocking. What kind of young virgin seduced her guardian in a country inn?
    But his conscience had an answer for him: the frightened daughter of a woman with no morals, a woman who had sold her daughter to some stranger, a woman who had demonstrated, thanks to him, that she’d cheerfully sell that daughter once again.
    He wanted to tell her not to fret. He wanted to hold her and soothe her fears—then, shocked at the direction his mind was turning, he squelched that thought. Damn him, it wasn’t comfort he wanted to give her. He wanted to embrace her again, to finish off what they’d begun. His body throbbed with desire for her.
    He rapped on the roof of the compartment to attract the postilion’s attention and when the chaise stopped, he threw open the carriage door and lunged out into the waiting dampness. He’d ride outside. The abominable English climate would soon cool his ardor.
    But even riding on one of the lead horses beside the postilion, with the rain dripping from the brim of his hat and his lust beaten back, he was haunted by the memory of the sadness he’d seen in her eyes just now, which he hadn’t observed before the events of the past night. His rejection had wounded her. She couldn’t know that the revulsion he’d felt had been toward himself, for the weakness that made him crave what she’d offered—and he’d take pains to ensure she never knew.
    If only the journey that stretched out before them weren’t so long. Once they arrived at Iskeny, it would be easier to remember what he was and what he must become: there, where the energies of the Old Ones still flowed through the standing stones, where he would become, in truth, the Dark Lord’s heir, and she would become—but that thought brought him even less comfort.
    He didn’t want to think of what awaited her on the island. The Dark Lord knew, better than anyone, how deeply he’d yearned for revenge and he’d promised Adam would attain it soon—in the very same paragraph where he’d commanded Adam to bring him back the virgin.
    No, the thought of reaching the island brought him precious little comfort at all.
    T hank God Lord Ramsay had left the compartment! It had been torture to have to sit beside him in its cramped confines. Zoe doubted she could have borne it for another moment. Why did he have to look so painfully handsome in that brooding way of his, when he’d made it clear he loathed her, body and soul? And even worse, now that she knew how he felt about her, why couldn’t she stop wanting him?
    It must be what her mother called maladie de la vierge , the virgin’s sickness. She’d warned Zoe