Chapter 6

Six

Moore

The damage was done. Our path was set.

It was foolhardy to think she wouldn't see me at the matinee. She was too clever, too observant, and now we'd arrived at a turning point.

Two things were abundantly clear. First, I couldn't resist her, and second, we were dangerously compatible. So, why fight it? We were as explosive as gunpowder and both eager adults. The idea of having her in all the various ways I craved gave me a dark, wicked thrill. The city believed me immoral and a scoundrel. Perhaps their opinion had been right all along.

It didn't matter. The two of us would embark on a short, secret affair, just as soon as we did away with her "no repeat" nonsense. A week together, maybe two, should be enough to work her out of my system. And no one would ever know.

Decision made, I skipped the second half of the performance and wandered out into the streets in search of the nearest jewelry store. These things were handled in a certain way and I wished to do it properly. Rose deserved nothing less.

In the store I selected the necklace with the biggest stone, an emerald that matched the color of Rose's eyes. It wasn't as lavish as I'd hoped, so I made a mental note to pay a call to Mr. Tiffany tomorrow.

Once I returned to the theater, the play had nearly finished. The attendants knew me by now, so they didn't protest when I requested to be shown backstage. After being directed down a series of corridors, I found the steps leading to the dressing rooms.

I entered the room with her name on the door, then settled into an armchair in the corner. Resting my derby on my knee, I waited, more content than I could remember. I hadn't felt this light, this hopeful, in years. Not since before the divorce proceedings, that was for certain.

Soon I heard a smattering of applause, signaling the end of the performance. There were rumors the show wasn't going to last much longer, and by the dwindling attendance, I believed it. Perhaps she'd take a break from acting and we could sail somewhere on my yacht together. Cuba or Maine, perhaps. Away from prying eyes, alone together.

Finally, after what seemed like an interminable wait, the door opened. Rose entered, her gaze sweeping the room as if she expected me to be here. When she found me, the edge of her mouth curled. "There you are. I grew worried when you left."

"Close the door and come here."

She bit her bottom lip and her breasts bounced provocatively in her low-cut costume as she approached. I moved my derby to make room for her on my lap. "Sit."

Gracefully, she arranged herself on my thighs, shifting the heavy skirts of her costume out of the way. I wrapped one arm around her back and pulled her closer, loving the feeling of her body nestled into mine. With my free hand I produced the jewelry box.

"What's this?"

"A gift that comes with no expectations." I held it out. "But I think it's time we have a serious conversation."

"Oh, I like serious Moore," she teased. "May I open the gift first?"

"Please."

She took the box from my hand and pulled off the ribbon. Then she carefully opened the case to reveal the emerald necklace inside. "Oh, goodness. Moore, this is . . . it's too much. I don't know what to say."

"Do you like it?"

Her verdant green gaze stared at me in awe. "I love it. It's absolutely stunning. But it's too extravagant. You shouldn't?—"

I pressed a finger to her lips. "I want you to have it. All you need to say is thank you."

"Thank you," she said softly. "Will you put it on me?"

"Of course." I took the box from her and faced her forward on my lap. Quickly, I slipped the necklace around her throat and fastened the clasp in the back. "There."

She stood and went to the looking glass by her dressing table, where she studied her reflection, turning subtly to the side to let the light catch the stone. "It's gorgeous. It matches my eyes."

"I know. That is why I chose it. Now, come back over here."

Grinning, she practically danced over to where I sat and took her previous spot on my lap. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to my mouth. "I love it. Thank you."

"I'm very glad. You deserve it." I pulled her closer and stroked her leg where it dangled over mine. "Are you ready to talk?"

"What are we discussing? How much I loved it earlier when you?—"

"No, not yet. We are discussing us. An arrangement to be specific."

Her eyebrows dipped, a frown marring her flawless features. "Oh. You mean me as your mistress."

"Yes, if you're amenable."

"I told you, I'm not interested in that sort of arrangement. We may have one night of torrid lovemaking, but that's all."

"I want you for more than one night."

"Then you shall be disappointed."

"Tell me your objections to the idea. I promise, I'm very generous."

"It's not about money," she snapped. When she tried to wriggle off my lap, I tightened my arms. "Let me go," she demanded.

"No, not until we have this discussion. Tell me your reasons, kitten."

"Do you believe using an endearment will soften me up?"

"Jewelry and endearments . . . isn't this what every woman wants?"

She rolled her eyes. "You shouldn't generalize. And this woman wants only one thing."

I fingered the lace edging of her bodice and imagined all the delights hidden underneath the cloth. "Marriage and babies then, I suppose."

"Moore. Ugh." She pushed off me and stood, her slight frame rigid with disappointment. "Your opinion of women is deplorable. Is this what those fancy schools teach young boys?"

"No. Mostly they teach antiquated languages and how to dodge a punch. Tell me what you want, Rose."

"Independence."

"But . . . you have it." I gestured to her dressing room. "A career, a life of your own choosing. No husband or father making your decisions."

"I have a career, yes. Except it's fleeting and unpredictable. I'll eventually be too old, and then what will I do? I want something of my own, something lasting. Something that cannot be taken away from me arbitrarily."

She spoke passionately, as if from experience. What had she lost in her past? "Do you want money? Land? What is it you want? Tell me and I'll make it happen."

Instead of answering, she pressed her lips together and shook her head. "I need to do this myself. Don't you understand? That is the very point."

"No, I don't understand. There's no shame in relying on others to help achieve your dreams. The trading of favors is what this city is founded on, for god's sake."

"Is that what we'd be doing? Trading favors?"

"If you wish to consider it like that, then yes. You favor me with your delectable body, and I'll see that you have whatever you wish."

For a second, I thought I had her. The way her eyes went unfocused, as if she were picturing it, made me confident that I'd convinced her. But then she shook her head. "I only sleep with men for fun, not profit. Take it or leave it."

"So I may give you gifts and trinkets." I gestured to the necklace. "But nothing substantial. Do I have it right?"

She began unpinning her hair with ruthless, frustrated movements. "No . . . yes . . . I don't know! This is a lot for me to take in." She threw a hairpin in the direction of her dressing table. "I don't want to be a mistress. Men use sex to control women, to take away our choices. They make promises and then change their minds, leaving us to pick up the pieces."

Oh, I was beginning to understand. This was about her past, not about me. I would unpack that dusty trunk at a later time. Right now I needed to deal with the present.

"Rose, come here."

A sound emerged from her throat, a low furious growl. "See? We haven't even screwed and you're ordering me around!"

I was out of my seat in a blink, pulling her to me and kissing her naughty mouth. I put one hand in her thick curls, the other on her waist, holding her tight, letting her feel my strength as I moved my lips over hers again and again. She softened slowly, her body gradually sagging into mine, until I was practically holding her upright. When her hips pressed closer, I angled my head to deepen the kiss, my tongue finding hers. The taste of her, combined with her sweet sighs, sank into my flesh and turned me as hard as stone.

We finally eased apart, both of us sucking in much-needed air. She was flush and boneless in my arms, her fingers twirling in the overly long hair at the nape of my neck. I could barely restrain myself from undressing her and taking her right there.

I needed her to agree to multiple nights.

"Sweetheart," I whispered against her temple. "I am dying for you. Positively stark raving mad. I'll agree to any conditions you set, provided it's more than one night and we are discreet. You want a bank draft? I'll write it. You want a house? I'll buy it. Tell me what you want from me. I'll gladly give it, free and clear."

She eased back to see my face. "You're serious."

"Of course. I won't ever lie to you."

Her fingertip pressed into the divot on my chin. "Men always lie, especially when their cocks are involved."

God, that word on her lips. Proper women wouldn't dare say such a thing, so hearing it fall from Rose's mouth seemed daring and tantalizing. "Say yes. I'm begging you."

"I do like it when you beg, but I'm sticking to only one night, Moore. I understand if you want to walk away, though I rather hope you won't."

Failure tasted like ashes in my mouth. Stubborn, stubborn woman. But I hadn't gotten to where I was in this world without knowing how to skirt a rule or two.

I stroked a fingertip along her jaw, feeling the velvety warm skin. "Just to be clear . . . one night of fucking, then I'll leave you be."

"Yes, that is what I'm saying."

"Then I agree."

Surprise stole over her features. "You do?"

I nodded. "Will you sit with me for a moment so that we might discuss when and where?" Instead of waiting, I bent and lifted her in my arms and carried her to the armchair. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held on until I had us settled.

"I've never been carried like that before," she said breathlessly. "I think I like it."

"You think?"

"No, I do. I definitely do."

I made a mental note of this, then arranged her more comfortably atop my thighs. "Now, let's have a reasonable discussion. Do you have a way to prevent contraception?"

"Yes."

"Good. Where do you live?"

"Downtown, on Sullivan Street."

"No, that won't do. I need you closer. Somewhere private."

She rested her head on my shoulder and her fingers fiddled with the studs on my shirt. "A hotel?"

Her tits were driving me mad, the soft flesh pushed high, nearly escaping her décolletage. I plucked at the strings of her bodice, loosening the constricting costume to uncover the mounds underneath. "A hotel is too public, too great a risk. And I want you to be comfortable."

She began helping me, lowering the sleeves as I loosened the fabric. Her breasts emerged tantalizingly slow to my ravenous gaze, until finally one popped free of her corset. Full, creamy flesh tipped with a hard rose-colored point. Christ, she was delectable.

I cupped the mound in my hand and squeezed. "You're so damn beautiful." Her eyes fluttered closed, the soft lashes kissing her cheeks as I plucked at her nipple. "How do you feel about a townhouse?"

"That seems extravagant for one night."

Moving my lips to her ear, I lowered my voice seductively. "Let me worry about extravagance."

"You want to keep our night together a secret," she said through heavy breaths.

"I don't wish to ruin your reputation or risk your career." As well, the secrecy meant I could shield my mother from any gossip.

I bent her back over my arm and lifted her breast toward my mouth. Leaning down, I licked her nipple a few times, then drew her nipple into my mouth, sucking deep and using my tongue. "I will make you so happy, kitten," I swore against her flesh. "Please say yes."

I bit her nipple gently and she gasped, followed by a long moan. "Oh, god." Her fingers hung onto the back of my head, holding me in place. "Moore, I cannot think straight when you do that."

I released her nipple to murmur, "I want to shower you with pleasure. I want to lick you until you can't stand. I want to give you jewelry and take trips with you. Bend you over the rail of my yacht and?—"

A knock sounded on Rose's door. "Rosie, you decent?" a male voice called.

I lifted my head. Tell him to go away, I mouthed.

"Not quite, Mr. Martin. If you don't mind, I'll find you in a moment."

"Very well," the man said. "I'll be in my office. Five minutes."

I drew on Rose's nipple again with deep pulls of pressure, and she arched back with a curse. When I slipped my hand beneath her skirts, she parted her legs to let me quickly find her center. Wet and scorching hot, she felt like heaven. I dragged two fingers up her seam to her clitoris. I rubbed lightly, a maddening, teasing brush that would give her a hint of what I was capable of but no satisfaction. Her compliance was what I wanted and I'd go to any lengths to get it.

She rocked her hips, chasing my touch, but I pulled back. "Say yes to the town house," I urged.

"This is hardly fair. You're clouding my mind."

"As you clouded mine today." I used my teeth on her nipple, then blew on it as my fingers increased the pressure between her legs, but only for a second or two before receding.

"Damn it, man," she panted. "I'm so close and you're deliberately drawing this out."

"Say yes and I'll take care of you. In all things, Rose. I'll give you everything your heart desires."

"I don't need—oh, god. Yes! Moore, yes. I agree! Just please . . ."

The words trailed as I pressed hard on the bundle of nerves, giving it friction, and Rose began to orgasm, her limbs trembling. She shouted her pleasure to the empty room, and I was too happy to care whether anyone was listening. Rose was mine. Finally .

And all I had to do was keep from fucking her.