The Price of Indiscretion Read online

  “To go to London? It’s a bit ambitious, isn’t it?”

  Her chin came up. He’d touched a nerve. “The last time I saw you, you were in deerskin.”

  Alex smiled grimly. “We’ve both come a long way. Although I have too much pride to sell myself, especially for something as cheap as a title.”

  She drew herself up, looking every inch a duchess or even a queen in the moonlight. “Are you suggesting I marry for love, Alex?” she wondered. “We’ve both come too far for such a pitiful emotion.”

  “Is this something you think yourself or what that ambitious harpy that chaperones you has put in your head?”

  Miranda had the good grace to blush, but persisted, “I understand what must be a priority in my life.”

  “And what is that?”

  “My sisters. We thought of no one but ourselves years ago, and in the end, hurt them. I will make up for that.”

  Alex recognized the truth in what she was saying. Over the years, he’d concluded much the same himself. Still, hearing her speak these thoughts…

  “Then why settle for a mere title?” he wondered. “Why not money, Miranda? Money is the true tool of power.”

  “Is that why you captain your own ship, Alex? Why you have done what you refused to do for me years ago and joined the white world? Are you in search of power?”

  Her unerring insight struck him hard. Only Miranda had ever been able to read him completely. “Yes,” he admitted with brutal honesty. “No man will ever do to me what your father did. And if you were wise, you’d marry for money. It is the only thing that commands respect.”

  “No, there are other things. Money is merely a means to an end. I want a title, Alex. I must have it. I robbed my sisters of their futures, but now I can give this to them. It’s what Charlotte wants and what will secure Constance’s future. I’m not saying money isn’t important. I want a man with both title and fortune, and I will get it, Alex. I’m not that naïve girl you walked away from years ago. I will be a blazing success in London.”

  She would. He could see that now. Few men could look at her and keep their wits about them. She had finally realized what her beauty could earn her. He took in the way her eyes shone as if touched by the stars; the strand of blond hair curling close to the lobe of her ear; her round, full breasts.

  But there was something else about Miranda that attracted him—her determination, her intelligence, her loyalty. She would get what she wanted.

  Meanwhile, he wanted her. It was just that primal. The savage in his nature warred with the civilized veneer he’d forced himself to wear.

  And then he thought of his father, giving up all for a woman. His father had been a fool.

  Alex was not. He’d paid a dear price once for Miranda, and when he’d asked, she’d not come. He had to remember that.

  This evening would be the end for them. He would exorcise her from his life. They would be done.

  “Then I suppose you’d best get back to the dancing,” he said. “Sir William is waiting for you. He’ll do as well as any man. Or is a mere knight enough? Perhaps you would prefer duke? Whatever you do, Miranda, don’t go after a real man. You aren’t woman enough for one.”

  The insult fired her temper. How dare he mock her? But then, that had been what he’d been doing from the moment they saw each other on the pier.

  “Shall I return to the party first?” he asked, all trace of emotion gone from his voice. They had returned to being strangers. “Or do you want to go? I don’t believe we should be seen together.”

  “How kind of you to think of my reputation,” she said tersely. “I’ll go first.”

  But as she started to sweep by him, he said, “It wasn’t your reputation I was thinking of, but mine.”

  Miranda stopped short.

  “After all,” he said, “you are Veral Cameron the drunkard’s daughter. You blame me, but he was the reason no man wanted you. I didn’t chase away Charlotte’s betrothed; Veral did with his hot temper and dishonest ways. Honest men don’t marry drunkard’s daughters, whether they are related to earls or not.”

  The element of truth in his words stole her breath.

  Yes, that had been what they’d whispered. No man could get past their father. Decent men avoided him. His only friends had been greedy or those lost in the bottle like himself. He’d marked her, Charlotte, and Constance…and she had confirmed the opinions of those in the valley by taking up with Alex.

  Miranda clenched her fist.

  Alex smiled. He knew he’d struck his mark.

  She wanted to punch him in his arrogant nose, but what good would that do? He stood there, smug and dangerously handsome, pretending she meant nothing to him.

  But he was wrong. He wouldn’t have come out here if that were true.

  He still wanted her.

  And to prove it, she placed her hands on either side of his jaw, and, rising up on her toes, smacked him with a kiss.

  Seven

  Alex couldn’t believe Miranda was kissing him.

  It was a hard, angry kiss. Her hands on either side of his jaw threatened to “cider-press” his face. Her lips were pursed together.

  And yet he liked it, because it showed that kisses still meant something to her. At one time, he’d thought they were the most honest part about her, and the same seemed true today. From this kiss, he could tell he’d hit a nerve.

  She ended the kiss by pushing him away. “You can go now.”

  He wasn’t about to leave.

  “You kiss like you’ve been practicing with your pillow,” he said.

  It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in and when it did, her temper ignited. He could watch it flare in those expressive eyes of hers.

  What he should have been watching was her hand.

  It came up and slapped him so hard, his head turned. Miranda might not have passed the last ten years kissing, but she had, apparently, spent them chopping wood. There was true muscle behind her punch.

  Alex lightly touched his jaw. “Your right arm would make a pugilist proud.”

  “Thank you,” she replied primly. “I’ve had to learn to defend myself. Now, if you will excuse me. I’m promised to several dance partners.” Her implication was that he was definitely not one of them.

  She would have swept past him save for his hooking his hand in her arm and swinging her around. “Oh no,” he said, half laughing. “You don’t start this and leave it.”

  Before she could question his meaning, he kissed her—and he knew how to do the job properly. He’d even learned a few tricks since those days when they’d been together. The time had come to discover how truly sorry Miranda had been for what had happened to him.

  She pressed her lips closed. Alex was not rebuffed. Instead, he slid his tongue along the line between them.

  It must have tickled, because she startled, her lips parting and giving him access to exactly what he wanted.

  Alex took complete advantage. His arm around her waist, he held her close, refusing to give up and putting himself into the kiss.

  The heels of her hands pushed his shoulders and then slowly wrapped around his neck.

  At last Alex had what he’d not even admitted to himself he had wanted. He’d wanted to kiss her. To see if she still tasted the same.

  She did.

  She even tasted better.

  His tongue met hers. There was a moment’s hesitation, and then she opened to accept him all the more.

  Alex went as hard as an iron pike. From the moment she’d stepped out onto the terrace, he’d been in an aroused state, but now, finally, to have her in his arms, to touch her and smell her, drove him past reason.

  How many hours had they played this game years ago? He’d always been eager to make love to her but had known the boundaries. Miranda had been too young, very shy, and protective of her virtue.

  She wasn’t protective now.

  He backed her against the wall and kissed her in a way he’d only dreame
d of. She met him, and he was lost.

  His blood raced through his veins, leaving his head and centering in the hot core of his need. Miranda had always been his weakness, but he was no longer a boy, but a man with a man’s needs. If he didn’t undo the buttons of his breeches soon, he would explode.

  She put her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest. Dear God, the shape of them and the hardness of her nipples were about to bring him to his knees.

  He couldn’t think any more beyond the driving need for completion.

  Time and place disappeared. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair. She gasped, her hold tightening as he whispered first her name in her ear…and then what he’d like to do to her.

  Miranda seemed to melt into his arms. He searched for and found her lips, and this time there was no holding back. Their kiss was full of delicious yearning.

  He slid his hand down, searching for, and finding, the curve of her breast. He followed the indentation of her waist and the flare of her hips.

  She was perfectly made…just as he’d dreamed.

  He whispered her name. Desire made his voice harsh. He kissed the tender skin under her jaw and along the line of her neck.

  She leaned back, giving him better access. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart at the pulse point. She should stop him. This wasn’t sane. Something would happen—

  Miranda’s legs parted to cradle him. She moved, and all thoughts of ending this madness vanished. Instead, his lips never leaving hers, he moved them into the darkest corner of the porch. His fingers found her laces. He tugged at the ribbons, loosening her bodice to give him better access to her beautiful, beautiful breasts.

  In all the time they’d been meeting clandestinely years ago, he’d never laid a hand on her breasts. He wanted to. He’d spent restless nights dreaming of them, imagining how they would feel in his hands, wondering what color the nipples were. However, back then, it had been more important to him for her to see him as a gentleman.

  That concern was gone. The savage was loose.

  While one hand slipped into her bodice, the other began raising the hem of her skirt. The back of his fingers brushed the tight, hard bud. His palm stroked the skin above her garters.

  But as he moved his hand upward, he became aware that she was trying to push him away. She broke the kiss. “Alex, no…I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can,” he practically growled at her, his mind not his own at this moment, and silenced any protests with kisses.

  Once again, she became his willing partner. He could feel her heat, even through all the layers of their clothes, and it pulled him as strongly as the moon pulled the tides. He needed to touch her. He’d never felt such urgent desire before in his life.

  This was his woman. And he was going to have her. Right here. Now. Please, God.

  He found the slit in her underclothing, found her moist. Her arms around his neck tightened. For one incredible moment, she was compliant in his arms, and then she shoved him away again—this time with enough force to make him step back.

  Dazed, he looked at her. Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears. “We must stop.” Her voice shook with the same unfulfilled passion that drove him. He used it to his advantage.

  “I can’t…I don’t want to.” He was ready to burst if he didn’t find relief. He commanded her with a kiss. She opened to him. His fingers sought hidden places—

  “Alex, no.”

  The plea brought him to his senses. The savage that was always present in his nature stepped back.

  The gentleman, the one who understood consequences, emerged.

  Alex realized how far they had gone. He was about to take her here and now. He’d backed her to the wall, his knee between her legs. One hand covered her naked breast. Her skirts were almost up around her waist. He ached with the need for release.

  But he stopped. It took all his control, but he did it.

  Slowly, he opened his fingers, releasing the gown he’d gathered. He forced his hands away from her, placing them on the wall on either side of her head, bracing himself a moment before leashing the driving demands of his body.

  He pushed back and turned away.

  Miranda sank against the wall, needing a moment to compose herself. Her heart pounded in her ears. She throbbed with unfulfilled need.

  What had come over her? In the valley, there had been those who had predicted a wild side to her nature…and they had been right.

  Alex combed his hair back with his fingers. He moved away into the moonlight, and she could see he was angry. That tight muscle worked in his jaw. So she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t look at her as he said, “You need to retie the lacings in the back of your dress.”

  His voice deeper than usual, huskier.

  She didn’t trust herself to speak.

  It took a moment for his words to sink in. Once they did, panic brought her to her senses. She’d almost let him bed her here, out under the stars and mere yards from where people were laughing and dancing.

  Miranda straightened, realizing that her hair was missing pins and her bodice gaped open, exposing her breasts. Humiliation set her face flaming. She covered herself, reaching around and attempting to retie her laces. Her fingers trembled so much, she was clumsy.

  Alex made an impatient sound. “Here, turn around,” he ordered. “I’ll help.”

  “I can do it,” she snapped. She couldn’t let him touch her, not after what he’d done.

  As if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud, his expression hardened. “There are people in the hallway. They’re looking for you. You don’t have time to be missish.” Emphasizing his words was the cheerfully shrill sound of Lady Overstreet’s voice asking someone if she had seen Miss Cameron.

  “Turn around,” Alex said.

  This time she obeyed, attempting to repair any damage to her hairstyle with shaking fingers.

  “I shouldn’t have done—” she started to say but he cut her off.

  “Don’t say it, Miranda. No regrets. Not right now. I’ve not the best hold on my temper.” He pulled her laces tight for emphasis, making her gasp for her breath, and then tied them into a quick bow, his movements efficient.

  He turned her toward the door. “Now go. Chase your title.”

  Miranda whirled on him, ready to throw those callous words back into his face.

  And yet, what could she say? That was what she must do.

  “We are of two different worlds,” she threw at him in a furious whisper. “I do this for my sisters. They are my responsibilities because of what happened between us. I will never forgive you, Alex, for what you did to me. Never.”

  His eyes burned with anger. “Are you talking about years ago? Or now? Either way, you were always willing, Miranda.”

  He was right—and she could have clawed his tongue out for it. Instead, she raised her chin. Her grandfather had been an earl. She didn’t have to answer to anyone.

  There was a footfall in the other room. Someone was coming. Miranda turned toward the door, anxious to meet that person before he or she came out on this private section of the terrace and found her alone with Alex, but it was too late. Lady Overstreet stepped through the door.

  “I have been looking for you everywhere—” Her Ladyship started and then, seeing Alex, stopped. Her sharp gaze missing nothing. “This isn’t good,” she said tightly. “He’s coming. Smile, damn you, smile.”

  He was Sir William, whose voice called from the hallway. “Lady Overstreet? Don’t say I’ve lost you, too.”

  “You haven’t,” Her Ladyship answered gaily, readjusting the sleeves on Miranda’s dress. “We’re all out here on the portico. We’ll be right there.”

  “I’ll come join you,” came his quick reply, and within seconds he walked out of the house to join them, his smile widening at the sight of Miranda. “There you are, Miss Cameron. Your guardian was worried about you…” The smile disappeared from his face when he noticed Alex. “Didn’t see you there, savage.
”

  “The name is Haddon,” Alex answered.

  Sir William ignored him. Instead he gave Miranda a long, considering look. She knew that even with only the moonlight, he’d notice her lips still swollen from Alex’s hard kisses.

  “We were enjoying a moment of fresh air,” Her Ladyship claimed, as if she had been out here chaperoning Miranda all the while.

  Sir William’s expression didn’t lighten. Instead he faced Alex. For a long tense moment, the men took each other’s measure, and Miranda knew there was a challenge in the air.

  The tension of the moment threatened to make her sick. With one word of truth, Alex could destroy her. Even Lady Overstreet seemed to be pulling away. The things Charlotte and Constance dreamed of would never come to be. Their trust in her would be betrayed—and all because of her weakness for one man.

  Miranda would not let that happen.

  Boldly, she slipped her arm into the crook of Sir William’s and in honeyed tones said, “I understand Senhor Esteves has laid out a lovely supper.” She let her breast brush his jacket before taking a step toward the door. “I confess I’m famished. Would you escort me in, sir?”

  Miranda had never used her femininity in this manner. Her looks had caused her more shame than pride. However, now she witnessed their power.

  If Sir William had been a hunting hound, his ears would have picked up and his tail gone straight. He covered her hand with his so that she couldn’t escape, his gaze lowering to her breasts. “I’d be honored to take you to the supper table.”

  Panic threatened, but then she caught a glance at the smirk on Alex’s face.

  He could go to the devil.

  “Thank you, Sir William,” she purred. “Will you join us, Lady Overstreet?”

  “No, no, the two of you go on. I’ll stay a moment enjoying the air with Captain Savage.”

  “It’s Haddon,” Alex said tersely.

  Lady Overstreet’s eyes widened as she realized the insult. “I beg your pardon. I heard Sir William. I’m so confused. Of course I know your name, Captain.”