Alec squeezed his eyes shut, as if that could somehow stop her words from shredding him. How could they have both been so stupid, letting things come to this? He longed, with every cell in his miserable, broken body, to deny it. But nothing had ever compared to being with her.
Nothing.
When he had first awoken and found himself alone, his foggy mind was convinced it had been a dream. All of it. The crushing disappointment had driven him from the bed. And to her. Last night she had taken his breath away, dressed in her fine gown and perfectly coiled hair, but she was even more beautiful here in the early-morning light, sleep mussed and bleary-eyed, dressed in a simple nightgown and wrapper. He couldn’t abide the pathetic tenderness she inspired in him. This dangerous desire not merely to have her, but to make her happy.
Lottie curled her fingers against his scalp, mindless of his internal castigation. “Please,” she whispered, tightening her thighs around his waist. “Please, Alec.”
He knew he should push her away. End it all. Tell her to pack her things and leave, but he had absolutely no defense against her begging for it. Begging for him. His cock started throbbing as soon as she set her lips to his wounded flesh. Alec wound her hair tightly around his fist and exposed that elegant white neck scattered with freckles. His breath caught at the faded love bite below her ear. Last night he had left that mark upon her. Only his lips had ever touched that flesh.
“What, Lottie?” He whispered darkly before dragging his teeth along her neck. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” she panted, already mindlessly canting her hips toward him.
An unfamiliar kind of possessiveness suffused through him, and his free hand practically tore the buttons off his trousers. But as he began to enter her, he forced himself to move slowly—as slowly as he could stand. Until he was torturing the both of them.
Her trembling palms scrabbled over his back seeking purchase, pulling him even closer. But it wasn’t enough. He needed to possess her as she possessed him. If only for a moment.
Alec slipped his hand under the back of her knee and pressed it toward her chest, opening her even more. To him. Only him.
I wanted it to be you.
So badly.
Her words from the previous night echoed through his addled mind. She wanted this. Wanted him. The thought would never lose its novelty. Even long after they had parted. Years from now, when this piercing need had once again dulled to an endurable ache, he would remember these few hours as the brief time when he had possessed everything he ever wanted.
He pushed deeper, and deeper still.
“Alec.” At the thread of surrender in her gasp, Alec pressed a heavy palm against the mirror, already breathless. There would be a very obvious handprint to clean later, but he couldn’t think on that now. God, he really hadn’t exaggerated how good she felt. He could have never even imagined experiencing such perfection. Lottie let out a low, dazed laugh and hugged him closer because apparently he said that bit aloud. Alec gave a shake then slowly began to roll his hips in controlled upward thrusts, as gently as he could manage. Despite her enthusiasm, she was still new to the act, and he didn’t want to hurt her more than he already had. But then the little minx started to push back against him, and the sensation was shattering.
“Oh fuck, Lottie,” he babbled. “You can’t do that. I won’t last.” But he was already thrusting harder, unable to control his desire for her.
“I don’t care,” she gasped and continued to writhe against him, using his body for her own pleasure. He moved his hand between their rolling hips to swirl her slickness against the hot bud of her sex, and she instantly clenched around him.
“Oh, God,” she whimpered.
Alec leaned over by her ear. “Look,” he growled as he took her chin and turned her toward the mirror. “See what you do to me?” He pressed his cheek against hers, barely recognizing the man reflected back at him. He shouldn’t reveal such hungry lust, such blatant need. And yet he lacked the will to stop. Their eyes met in the reflection for a few heated moments before Lottie gazed up at him in bewilderment. As if she couldn’t believe the erotic tableau before her. Alec then took that lovely mouth in a hard kiss and wrenched himself from her, no longer able to hold off his own release.
He pumped for what felt like an eternity. As if every desire he ever had for her was bursting from him now.
But that was impossible. Alec would never stop wanting her.
When he had finally finished, he sank against her welcoming body and pressed kisses into the curve of her neck, along her collarbone, and against the hollow below her throat. He couldn’t stop touching her, reveling in her, tasting her. He needed to take whatever he could now.
She let out a squeak of laughter and shifted in his arms. “Your beard tickles. Does it always grow so quickly?”
Alec smiled against her skin. “I’m afraid so.” He wanted his life to be filled with moments like this—her taste on his lips, his seed on her thighs, and her laughter in his ears.
She was giving him a dreamy smile while her fingers played in his hair. But her eyes were edged with sadness. He ignored the uneasiness prickling inside him and moved to place more kisses along her bare shoulder where her wrapper and nightgown had slipped a little. Soon he was sucking at the sensitive place where her neck met her shoulder. Lottie let out a delicious little moan, then pulled back. “Not again,” she said with a short laugh. “Rafe said you’re to meet him at ten.”
Alec froze. “How do you know that?”
“He came here early this morning asking about last night,” she said absently, still moving her fingers through his hair. “Actually, he was under the impression that I was your mistress.”
Something deep and dark rumbled inside him. Alec stilled her hand. “What?”
This time she noticed his displeasure. “Only for a bit!” she added. “But he was still very angry. He thought I was working for someone and trying to sabotage you. He even threatened to have me imprisoned. So I had to tell him who I was. Then he understood. But that was all right, wasn’t it?”
The way she made it sound, as if it was only a little mix-up, made him even angrier. But this time he was mad only at himself.
Alec stared at her and tried to control his breathing. “Tell me he didn’t touch you,” he growled.
Lottie’s eyes widened at his tone. “No. He didn’t. But he…” Her fingers twisted in her lap.
“Tell me, Lottie,” he urged.
“I was frightened, is all.”
“You should have woken me immediately. I could have dealt with him.”
Rafe’s interrogation skills were legendary. Alec had seen grown men weep after only a few minutes with him. Being frightened was the bare minimum of what Rafe was capable of.
“No, it was all fine. He apologized, and we talked for a little while. Then he left.”
An ugly suspicion suddenly came over Alec. He hated it. Hated himself. But he couldn’t seem to control it. “What did you talk about?”
“Nothing,” she answered too quickly, then caught her mistake. “Venice. My plans.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Rafe must have been riveted.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Alec shrugged. “He doesn’t usually bother with idle conversation where work is concerned. Though I suppose he makes exceptions for beautiful women.” He grazed his fingertips along her hip. “Not that I blame him.”
Lottie shivered at the touch. Alec then dragged his hand upward to lazily stroke the valley between her breasts. Her nipples hardened, and those rosy tips were just visible beneath the gauzy nightgown.
“Especially if he saw you wearing only this.”
Lottie glanced away. “It wasn’t like that.”
Alec grasped her chin and forced her to look at him. “It never is, darling,” he said with a cruel smile. “Not at first, anyway. It must have been exciting, being caught unawares by a strange man. Do you find him handsome? Plenty of women do.”
She pulled out of his grip. “Are you actually jealous? We talked about you.”
Alec immediately went rigid. “What the hell does that mean,” he growled.
That was far worse. If Rafe had said one bloody word—
“All this time you let me think you wanted this life. But it wasn’t your choice, was it?” There was no judgment in her gaze. Only sympathy.
It was infuriating.
Alec clenched his hand in a fist and gave no answer. “I can’t imagine what you mean. Of course it was my choice.”
Lottie worried her lip with her teeth. There was still more to come. He clenched his other hand until she finally spoke. “Alec, I know about your mother.”
His uneasiness transformed into a sickening dread. He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. “Know what?”
“I—I found her portrait,” she explained, confused by his caginess. “She wasn’t a laundress at all. And that name, Petrucci—”
“Her husband’s,” Alec finished.
Then she still didn’t know the very worst of it. Alec hid his relief behind a glare. It was short-lived.
“Why did you never tell me about her? All those years…” Her voice trailed off but she had the audacity to look hurt.
As if it were that simple.
As if it hadn’t ruined every bloody hope he had ever harbored for her.
Never tell her? He was supposed to share his greatest shame with the girl who had been utterly adored by her parents? Who had been separated from them only by a horrible accident? Who had never once been given any reason to doubt that she was loved, completely?
Even now, his neck burned with shame. With rage. He suddenly felt like doing something purely destructive, like smashing the mirror behind her or shoving his father’s writing desk into the canal. No. It would have killed him to stand there and tell her the truth. To reveal that his own mother had chosen to leave him, that his father had rather die than live for Alec, and that their choices had taken away his own. Ensured that he would never, ever, be good enough for her.
So he had left instead.
“I don’t owe you anything.” He turned away from her and hauled up his trousers.
“You’re wrong,” she said softly.
Alec whipped his head around. Lottie still sat on top of the dressing table, hands demurely on her lap, despite having just been thoroughly ravished. To think, only days ago he had lost his breath over the sight of her gloveless. “What?” he barked.
“You owe me some honesty.”
Alec glared as he fastened the buttons. Her eyes dipped down to his hands and she swallowed. Christ. The pair of them were like dogs in heat.
“About what?” he prompted.
“I’m right, aren’t I? You came to the house the morning after my ball to see me. But it was Uncle Alfred who made you leave. And told you not to write.”
How pathetic that made him sound. How powerless. It was stomach turning. And every word was true. It had taken Sir Alfred less than a minute to expose Alec’s every weakness, unearth every last doubt.
You can’t marry my niece because you are illegitimate. And even if the world doesn’t know the truth, I do.
“I didn’t write because there was nothing for me to say,” he snapped.
But Lottie just shook her head. “It’s more than that.”
Are you so certain of her love for you? Of what she can withstand? She won’t fully inherit for five more years. Until then you will have nothing.
“Fine. I didn’t write because I didn’t think you cared.” It was somewhat closer to the truth. “And you were entertaining suitors as soon as I left.”
She could be married by the end of the season. If you have any affection for her at all, you won’t deny her this chance to find happiness.
Lottie sucked in a sharp breath. “How can you say that? I was heartbroken when I found out what happened. How you just left without a word.”
The remains of his wretched little heart lifted at the revelation, but it was too late now. He had made his bed long ago.
“And even if you didn’t know how I—I felt about you,” she continued as her voice began to break, “we were friends, Alec. You didn’t even say goodbye.”
If you leave now, I will do everything in my power to help your career. But if you try to contact her in any way, at any time, so help me God, I will ruin you.
It had been an impossible choice, but one he had made all the same. But as Alec stared at Lottie’s anguished face he wondered, and not for the first time, if he had chosen poorly. Guilt ripped through him, tearing open the long-scarred wounds where his love for her had once blossomed. Giving up the chance to court her properly had been agonizing, but it was losing her friendship that had left him a shell of a man. He pushed it all down as far as it would go—all the sorrow, all the regret, all the desire—just as he had been doing for the past five years. What remained of him wasn’t worth her attentions.
Alec gave her a bland look. “Then I suggest you let my actions speak for me in this case.”
“I did,” she growled as she slid off the dressing table. “For years I did.” Then she flashed him the same defiant look she had that first day on the terrace, when she proudly revealed her plan for ruination. “But you should have continued to keep your distance then, if you wanted to keep up the pretense.”
She was right, of course.
Alec’s tenuous control slipped even further. “You think too much of yourself. Do you know what our friendship was born of, Lottie? Convenience. Proximity,” he spat the words, repeating the same ones Sir Alfred had said to him five years ago.
Do you think you would ever have been allowed to consort with someone like her otherwise?
“You were so lonely, so desperate, you would have been friends with anyone who paid you the least bit of attention. What we had was not a true friendship. It was an obligation. And I was glad when I could finally be rid of it.”
Of all the things he had said and done in his wicked life, that was the cruelest.
“You’re lying,” she whispered angrily as tears filled her eyes.
“I have always been a liar, Lottie,” he said. “You just didn’t want to see it.”
She shook her head. “No, no. He already stole five years from us. Don’t give him our past, too. You don’t owe him that.”
“I owe him everything!” Alec roared. “The clothes on my back, the food in my belly, the very thoughts in my head. He paid for it. All of it. For years. And don’t think he ever let me forget it. That is the very least of what I owe him.”
“But—this house,” she stammered. “Your parents didn’t leave this to you?”
He uttered a dark laugh. Unlike her, Alec’s parents were unable to leave him a vast fortune. “They were renters. My mother had no money of her own, and my father spent most of his life deeply in debt. He died a pauper. This house was my reward for Turkey. For having a bullet driven through my flesh. For taking a life. All in service to your uncle.”
“I don’t understand—”
“Yes,” he snapped. “How could you possibly understand what it’s like to be disowned by your own flesh and blood. Beholden to someone else. Someone who didn’t even want you?”
“I wanted you!” She pressed her palm against her chest. “Do you think I never felt lonely, or unwanted? Like a burden to Sir Alfred?”
“It wasn’t the same,” he insisted. “You are his niece. He loves you.”
“But you were loved,” she cried. “By me.” Then she flung herself into his arms. His traitorous hands immediately gripped her. “And I love you still. We love each other.”
Every word felt as if someone was plunging a butcher’s knife deep into his heart. Over and over and over. She wouldn’t stop. She would never stop. Not until he burned everything between them to ash.
Yes, he wanted to say. Yes, but love isn’t enough.
His love wasn’t enough.
“You’re hysterical.”
She pulled back to face him, her eyes wild and desperate. “See? You don’t deny it. For why would you come to the village? And make love to me? Why any of it? You do love me. You always did.”
He shook his head and braced his heart. “Sir Alfred threatened to end my career if I didn’t bring you in.” The threat was true, but Lottie wasn’t the only one who was sentimental. Far from it. Alec would have gone searching for her the minute he learned what had happened, whether Sir Alfred asked him to or not. But it would do her no good to know that. “And even I’m not strong enough to resist a beautiful woman begging me to have her.”
“He could have sent someone else, though. It didn’t need to be you. Don’t you see what this means? He approves now. We can be together.”
The hope in her face was agonizing. It meant nothing of the sort. Sir Alfred had taken a gamble, to be sure, but he knew how deep Alec’s self-loathing went.
The trick to successfully telling a lie is to choose something that is either close to the truth, or something the other person might already be disposed to believe is true. One wrong move, and this house of cards would tumble.
Alec took a deep breath. He would not come back from this.
“No.” He spoke slowly. Calmly. As one might do with a small child. “All it means is that now he will need to find you a husband who won’t care that you’ve been ruined. I could have chosen you five years ago. But I didn’t then, and I won’t now. Nothing’s changed.”
She stared at him in shock for several excruciatingly silent moments while Alec’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. Then something flickered behind those wide green eyes, as if a light was being extinguished. Her Lottie light. Her body stiffened as she slid out of his arms.
When she finally spoke, her tone was even. Free of any emotion. “Yes. Of course.” Her face was as blank as her voice. The mask had returned.
Alec tried to ignore the icy regret currently clawing up his spine along with the clammy sheen of sweat that had broken out over his body and headed toward the door. “Your train will leave soon. I’ll send Valentina to help. Take her with you. If not for your own sake, then for hers.” He hesitated in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. Last time he had just left. But now…
“Goodbye, Lottie,” he murmured.
She winced, as if the very words themselves caused her injury, and he immediately strode from the room.
They would not meet again.