Pleasure Me Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Praise for Monica Burns and her novels of “cutting edge romance”*

  “This sizzling hot historical and its compelling characters will leave you panting for more! Monica Burns writes with sensitivity and panache. Don’t miss this one!”

  —Sabrina Jeffries, New York Times bestselling author

  “No one sets fire to the page like Monica Burns.”

  —Ecataromance

  “[Monica Burn’s] excellent love scenes and bold romance will have readers clamoring for more.”

  —Romantic Times

  “A cinematic, compelling, and highly recommended treat!”

  —Sylvia Day, national bestselling author

  “The love scenes are emotion-filled and wonderfully erotic . . . Enough to make your toes curl.”

  —TwoLips Reviews

  “Elegant prose, believable dialogue, and a suspenseful plot that will hold you spellbound.”

  —Emma Wildes

  “Historical romance with unending passion.”

  —The Romance Studio

  “Wow. Just wow.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  “A satisfying read complete with intrigue, mystery, and the kind of potent sensuality that fogs up the mirrors.”

  —*A Romance Review

  “Monica Burns is a new author I must add to my ‘required reading’ category . . . Everything I look for in a top-notch romance novel.”

  —Romance Reader at Heart

  “Blazing passion.”

  —Romance Junkies

  Berkley Sensation titles by Monica Burns

  KISMET

  PLEASURE ME

  Order of the Sicari Novels

  ASSASSIN’S HONOR

  ASSASSIN’S HEART

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

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  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTING HISTORY Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / March 2011

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Burns, Monica.

  Pleasure me / Monica Burns.—Berkley Sensation trade pbk. ed.

  p. cm.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-47876-9

  1. Courtesans—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3602.U76645P54 2011

  813’.6—dc22

  2010048803

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For Marie and Olivia.

  The easiest thing about being a parent is how you love. I love you more than you can possibly imagine.

  Acknowledgments

  With gratitude to Kati Dancy for her meticulous attention to detail and her demand for excellence. A shout-out to my BFFs Rosie Murphy, Becke Martin, Keri Stevens, Keri Ford, and Renee Vincent for patience in listening to me whine, your commiseration, your jokes, and the HAWT male model pics that keep dropping into my inbox. You all are the best!

  1

  London, 1897

  “I’m sure you understand, my dear. Miss Fitzgerald and I have formed a tendré for each other that transcends what you and I have had over this past year. I’m amazed she’s even countenanced my suit as she’s so much younger than me.”

  Ruth flinched as she stood at the window with her back to Marston. What he really meant was that Ernestina Fitzgerald was younger than her. There was just enough complacency in her lover’s voice for her to know the bastard was enjoying himself. She’d been through this type of event so many times over the past twenty some years, but this time it was worse. This was the second time in less than two years that a lover was leaving her for a younger woman. And at forty-one years of age she was old—wasn’t she? Her hands trembled despite her death grip. Steeling herself, she pasted on a smile and turned around to face him.

  “Of course, I understand, Freddie.” She deliberately used the nickname and earned a glare from him. She knew how much he despised anyone calling him that. “I’m certain Miss Fitzgerald will suit you well. As I understand it, her talent for skilled conversation equals yours.”

  Marston sent her a suspicious look, but she knew he would never understand the double entendre. The man wasn’t nearly as intelligent as he liked to think. In fact, he was hopelessly inept at conversing intelligently about any subject other than hunting and fishing. Suddenly, she despised herself for even entering into a liaison with him. She knew why she had. She just hadn’t wanted to admit it until now. She’d been scared, afraid that time was running out for her. And now it had.

  “Naturally, I’ll see that your allowance is paid through the end of the month.”

  “Naturally,” she said coolly, not about to let him see she was shaken by the parting. It wasn’t as much unexpected as it was humiliating. “And Crawley Hall?”

  “I am sorry, Ruth, but that seems a rather extravagant parting gift, don’t you think?”

  “I prefer to think of it as a promise you made several months ago.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him. She needed the estate. The orphanage on Aston Street was overflowing, and the more sickly children would benefit from the fresh country air.

  “Did I? I don’t recall agreeing to any such thing.”

  “Then perhaps I should have Wycombe refresh your memory, as he was present at the time you agreed to purchase the property for me.”

  “I’m sure Wycombe will remember i
t differently,” Marston said with more than a hint of smug arrogance. “Besides, you already have property in the country. I see no reason why you would have need of another one. If you’re concerned about money, you can always sell the jewelry I’ve given you.”

  The sanctimonious pig. The bastard knew why she wanted Crawley Hall. He also knew good and well that the house she owned near Bath was far too small for her needs. There was barely enough room for her, Delores, and Simmons let alone half a dozen orphans. And the jewelry he’d given her would bring her barely enough for half the purchase price of Crawley Hall. His refusal to buy the Hall meant she would need to dig more deeply into her resources. Something she’d hoped to avoid. She’d managed her finances well over the years, but buying Crawley Hall meant utilizing her long-term investments much sooner than she liked. Especially when her future was far from bright when it came to securing a new patron. She sent him a contemptuous smile.

  “The jewelry you’ve given me? Darling Freddie, those trinkets will hardly fetch even a paltry sum. But if you refuse to keep your promise with regard to Crawley Hall, who am I to question your honor.” She caught a glimpse of the anger darkening his face as she turned away from him with a small shrug. “Since we’ve nothing further to say to each other, I think it’s time you left.”

  Seconds later, a rough hand snaked through her hair and jerked her head backward. She never liked to show fear, but Marston pulled painfully on her hair and she cried out not only in surprise, but anguish as well.

  “Listen to me, you old hag, if you even suggest that my attentions to you were ever anything but honorable, I’ll show you just how honorable I can be.”

  A door opened behind them, and her butler entered the room. Tall and burly enough to make any man cautious of crossing him, Simmons occasionally acted the bodyguard in addition to his many other talents.

  “I heard a scream, my lady. Is everything all right?” It wasn’t a question. It was the butler’s way of telling Marston to release her, which Freddie did with a rough shove.

  “Don’t forget what I said, Ruth. I’ll not have anyone sully my good name.”

  She remained silent, despite her desire to tell him exactly what she wanted to do to him, starting with castration. Lord, how could she have actually thought the man attractive? Because he was the only man who’d been interested enough to enter into a liaison with her. Nauseated by the thought, she swayed slightly on her feet.

  As Marston left the parlor, she crossed the floor and gripped the arm of the settee as she slowly sank down into the cushions. Simmons didn’t comment. He simply followed her ex-lover out of the room, obviously intent on seeing the man out of the house. The trembling of her hands expanded to wrack her entire body, and she closed her eyes against the pain sweeping through her. First one tear and then another rolled down her cheeks.

  She’d always known this day would come, but it was even more horrible than she’d possibly imagined. Age had always been her enemy, and she’d never been able to find a way to defeat it. Bent over, she cupped her face in her hands to cry softly. A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she looked up to see her maid’s concerned expression.

  “Did he hurt you, my lady?”

  “Not really, Dolores.” She pulled a handkerchief from a side pocket in her skirt and shook her head as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “More my pride than anything else.”

  “I never cared for the man. He never treated you as well as your other beaus.”

  “I’m well aware of how you felt about Marston.” She couldn’t help but release a small laugh at the vehement distaste in her maid’s voice. “I’m surprised I didn’t come around to your way of thinking a long time ago.”

  “You’re stubborn. That’s why. Stubborn, right down to the core, you are. Always so certain that man was the best you could do.”

  “He was the only man who seemed remotely interested at the time as I recall,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I can no longer fool myself, Dolores. My age has begun to show.”

  “Nonsense.” The maid snorted with disgust. “You still have the figure of a young girl, and a face as lovely as an angel’s.”

  “Thank you, Dolores. You are a true friend, loyal and blind to the obvious.”

  She winced at the truth. It wasn’t necessary to look in the mirror to know that her looks weren’t what they once were. She knew she was still an attractive woman, but her days of garnering accolades for her beauty were long gone.

  “Harrumph. My eyesight is as good as it was twenty years ago.” The maid straightened her shoulders, hands clasped in front of her, and scowled down at her. “There are plenty of men who would be more than happy to enter a room with you on their arm. You’re far too hard on yourself.”

  The woman’s chiding lifted her spirits slightly as she contemplated the way Lord Mackelsby had complimented her several nights ago. Marston had even spared enough time to leave Ernestina Fitzgerald’s side to come claim her as if she were a piece of property he owned. The analogy had been accurate at the time. Marston paid her bills and as such was entitled to her full attention.

  But now he was gone, along with her monthly allowance. She released another sigh. It wasn’t the money that troubled her as much as the fact that Marston, like her lover before him, had left her for a younger woman. No matter how much she fought it, the knowledge threw her into a state of despair.

  She swallowed back another rush of tears. Crying would do little good, and there were more important matters to consider than her bruised ego. She stood up quickly to pace the floor in front of the fireplace. The children had to come first. Whatever it took, she’d find a way to purchase Crawley Hall or another estate like it.

  In addition to the few trinkets Marston had given her, she owned several other pieces of jewelry she could sell, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. She breathed a sigh of resignation. In order to fetch the remainder of the Hall’s purchase price, she would have to sell her house outside of Bath. She cringed inwardly at the thought before dismissing her regret. She could just as easily retire to Crawley Hall as anywhere else.

  “I think it’s time I sell some of my investments.”

  “What?” Dolores’s horrified astonishment made her smile.

  “My jewelry should fetch at least half the sale price of Crawley Hall, and selling the country house should make up the balance and hopefully pay for the necessary improvements to the Hall. If that’s not enough, I can easily rent the town house. There should be sufficient monies from my annual annuities to support me, as long as I’m careful with money.” Ruth glanced around the parlor wondering how much the house would rent for. It was in a reasonably fashionable district, which should make it an attractive offering.

  “But you bought the house in Bath for your retirement, my lady. And if you rent this house, where will you live?”

  “I shall live at Crawley Hall.” She saw her longtime companion flinch, and quickly moved forward to grasp the older woman’s hands. “And you’ll come with me, Dolores. And Simmons, too. You do want to come, Dolores, don’t you?”

  “Yes, my lady.” The maid’s expression of fear disappeared. “I just thought perhaps you might not have need of me anymore.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She sat down next to the woman and squeezed her hands. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Who else will keep me on the straight and narrow?”

  “This is true, my lady. Although I think you’ve a heart that’s far too big for your pocket where those children are concerned.”

  “They haven’t anyone else to look after them, Dolores. I can’t simply abandon them as Marston has me.”

  The words were a vivid reminder of her current state of affairs, and she fought off the wave of self-pity threatening to wash over her. As much as she wanted to give in to the emotion, she refused to do so. She’d always been practical in her outlook, and it was time she accepted the fact that her days as one of the Set’s darlings were quickly coming to
a close. Marston leaving her for a younger woman would make her an object of pity among the Marlborough Set, something she would abhor. The appearance of Simmons at the parlor doorway interrupted her train of thought.

  “Lady Pembroke has arrived, my lady.”

  As the butler stepped aside, Allegra Camden, the Countess of Pembroke, swept into the salon as Simmons retreated from the room. The smile on her face only enhanced her younger friend’s beauty, as Allegra took her outstretched hands in hers then kissed her on the cheek.

  “I’m sorry I’m late, but Shaheen and the children took longer than usual with breakfast.”

  “It’s quite all right.” Ruth returned her friend’s affectionate greeting then turned to her maid. “Dolores, bring us some tea, please.”

  The older woman bobbed her head and left the room to do as Ruth had asked. With a small gesture, she invited her friend to sit down. Her movements elegant, Allegra sank into a wingback chair as Ruth took a seat on the settee across from her. A frown on her face, her friend eyed her carefully.

  “Something’s happened. Are you ill?”

  The concern in Allegra’s voice tightened her throat, and she shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”

  “You look rather peaked.” Allegra leaned forward then suddenly gasped. “You’ve been crying.”

  Before Ruth could say a word, her friend sprang to her feet in a soft rustle of expensive silk and joined Ruth on the couch. Taking her hands in hers, Allegra studied her with an expression that said she intended to get to the bottom of whatever was troubling her.