Read Online Pleasuring the Lady (The Pleasure Wars) by Jess Michaels - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jess Michaels
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pleasure, not to allow desire. And yet she felt it burn within her every time she thought of Miles.
“Yes,” she admitted on the barest of whispers.
“Then why not take what you want and get what you need for your family?” Ava asked. “It seems as if everyone wins in that scenario.”
“Ava!” Portia gasped, unable to grasp this concept that she would bribe her soon-to-be husband.
Before she could say anything more, there was a light rap on the parlor door. It opened to reveal Potts, whose lips were pursed together and pale.
“Lord Weatherfield is here, my lady.”
Portia blinked in confusion, then turned to look at the clock. “I—it isn’t two yet.”
“Yes, but he is here regardless. And asking to see you.”
“Demanding,” came a correction in Miles’ low voice out in the foyer.
Portia lifted her hand to cover her lips and stared at Ava. Her friend shrugged.
“Let him in,” Ava suggested. “I doubt he would leave if you turned him away, and what good would it be to do so?”
Portia could hear her breath rattling in her ears over the whoosh of blood that made everything swim around her.
“Let him in,” she whispered, hoping she would stay upright.
Potts gave her a long look, then nodded once before she pulled the door open more fully and said behind her, “Lady Portia will see you now.”
Miles shook his head as he swept around her servant and into the room. “Yes, as if I couldn’t hear everything. These walls are abominably thin.”
Portia flinched. He didn’t know the half of it. She could tell him horror stories of hearing the screaming fights of the couple who lived next door or having the brisk winter wind make sleeping impossible.
Instead, she stepped forward, hand outstretched. “My lord, what a surprise,” she managed to say, her voice trembling on each word. “I did not expect you until two—did I misunderstand you?”
“No,” he said, ignoring the hand she offered. “I came early because I wish to speak to you.”
He looked past her to Ava. “Good afternoon, Lady Rothcastle. I suppose I should have assumed you would be here; you two are the closest of friends, are you not?”
Ava got to her feet and went to him with a smile. Portia flinched as he took the hand she offered without hesitation.
“We are, my lord. I understand congratulations are in order.”
Miles blanched. “I suppose some would say that. Thank you.”
Ava frowned slightly. “Portia is one of the best women I have ever had the pleasure to know, Lord Weatherfield. She deserves happiness and I hope, despite the inauspicious beginnings, that you will endeavor to grant her that.”
Portia stepped toward the two as horror and shock mingled. “Ava! While I appreciate your kind words, Lord Weathefield does not need advice on how to treat me.”
Ava arched a brow. “I hope not.”
Miles pressed his lips together into a thin line. “Thank you, Lady Rothcastle. Now I hate to be rude, but I would like to speak to my…to my…to Portia alone for a moment, if you would excuse us.”
Ava stared at him for a long moment, then she cast her gaze toward Portia. “Do you wish to be alone with him?”
Portia nodded. “Yes.” She blushed. “I only mean Miles and I have a great deal to discuss and I would like to have a few moments before my brother arrives and takes over the proceedings in his usual highly unpleasant manner.”
“Then I will go.” Ava hugged her briefly. “Be careful,” he friend whispered before she pulled back and smiled at Miles. “Good day, my lord. I look forward to the friendship I’m certain we will all develop after your nuptials.”
“Good day,” he said, watching her go and quietly pull the door shut behind her, regardless of the propriety of them being left so utterly alone.
“Would you like tea?” Portia whispered, uncertain now that she was alone with this man who seemed to fill the room around her and steal all the air within.
“No.” He stared
“Yes,” she admitted on the barest of whispers.
“Then why not take what you want and get what you need for your family?” Ava asked. “It seems as if everyone wins in that scenario.”
“Ava!” Portia gasped, unable to grasp this concept that she would bribe her soon-to-be husband.
Before she could say anything more, there was a light rap on the parlor door. It opened to reveal Potts, whose lips were pursed together and pale.
“Lord Weatherfield is here, my lady.”
Portia blinked in confusion, then turned to look at the clock. “I—it isn’t two yet.”
“Yes, but he is here regardless. And asking to see you.”
“Demanding,” came a correction in Miles’ low voice out in the foyer.
Portia lifted her hand to cover her lips and stared at Ava. Her friend shrugged.
“Let him in,” Ava suggested. “I doubt he would leave if you turned him away, and what good would it be to do so?”
Portia could hear her breath rattling in her ears over the whoosh of blood that made everything swim around her.
“Let him in,” she whispered, hoping she would stay upright.
Potts gave her a long look, then nodded once before she pulled the door open more fully and said behind her, “Lady Portia will see you now.”
Miles shook his head as he swept around her servant and into the room. “Yes, as if I couldn’t hear everything. These walls are abominably thin.”
Portia flinched. He didn’t know the half of it. She could tell him horror stories of hearing the screaming fights of the couple who lived next door or having the brisk winter wind make sleeping impossible.
Instead, she stepped forward, hand outstretched. “My lord, what a surprise,” she managed to say, her voice trembling on each word. “I did not expect you until two—did I misunderstand you?”
“No,” he said, ignoring the hand she offered. “I came early because I wish to speak to you.”
He looked past her to Ava. “Good afternoon, Lady Rothcastle. I suppose I should have assumed you would be here; you two are the closest of friends, are you not?”
Ava got to her feet and went to him with a smile. Portia flinched as he took the hand she offered without hesitation.
“We are, my lord. I understand congratulations are in order.”
Miles blanched. “I suppose some would say that. Thank you.”
Ava frowned slightly. “Portia is one of the best women I have ever had the pleasure to know, Lord Weatherfield. She deserves happiness and I hope, despite the inauspicious beginnings, that you will endeavor to grant her that.”
Portia stepped toward the two as horror and shock mingled. “Ava! While I appreciate your kind words, Lord Weathefield does not need advice on how to treat me.”
Ava arched a brow. “I hope not.”
Miles pressed his lips together into a thin line. “Thank you, Lady Rothcastle. Now I hate to be rude, but I would like to speak to my…to my…to Portia alone for a moment, if you would excuse us.”
Ava stared at him for a long moment, then she cast her gaze toward Portia. “Do you wish to be alone with him?”
Portia nodded. “Yes.” She blushed. “I only mean Miles and I have a great deal to discuss and I would like to have a few moments before my brother arrives and takes over the proceedings in his usual highly unpleasant manner.”
“Then I will go.” Ava hugged her briefly. “Be careful,” he friend whispered before she pulled back and smiled at Miles. “Good day, my lord. I look forward to the friendship I’m certain we will all develop after your nuptials.”
“Good day,” he said, watching her go and quietly pull the door shut behind her, regardless of the propriety of them being left so utterly alone.
“Would you like tea?” Portia whispered, uncertain now that she was alone with this man who seemed to fill the room around her and steal all the air within.
“No.” He stared
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