Simply Wicked. Kate Pearce
there? Two men acting like women?”
“Two men loving each other.”
“Men don’t love each other. They fuck to gain power, to win, to emerge as the winner.”
“Not all of them.”
Lord Minshom reached out and brushed his thumb over Anthony’s lower lip. The subtle caress made all Anthony’s senses come alive. He swallowed hard as Lord Minshom shoved his thumb into his mouth and moved it back and forth.
“I fuck to win.”
Anthony jerked his head away and swiped his hand over his mouth. “I know. You’ve proved that to me many times.”
“And you didn’t like it? You didn’t beg and plead for more?”
“I was a fool.”
“You are a fool. You can’t change your nature, Sokorvsky. You’ll always be down on your knees begging for it.”
Anthony closed his eyes as Lord Minshom’s hand closed around his cock and squeezed hard. Like a lapdog, he was responding, his shaft growing and thickening at the other man’s demands. He grabbed Lord Minshom’s wrist and wrenched it away from his cock.
“No more. I’m done with you.”
A slow smile illuminated the other man’s face, drawing attention to the exquisite lines of his cheekbones and pale porcelain skin.
“Now that is amusing, Sokorvsky. You, having the nerve to tell me you’ve had enough. I didn’t think you had the balls.”
“Well, think again. I’m done.”
“We’ll see about that. Perhaps I was a little hard on you last night. When you’re feeling better, you’ll be back for more.”
“Don’t patronize me. I mean what I say.”
Lord Minshom bowed, amusement clear in his narrowed eyes. “I’m sure you do—tonight. I’ll see you in a couple of days, naked and bound in the punishment corner, eager to do my bidding as usual.”
He nodded and walked away, leaving Anthony shaking. It seemed that no one believed he was capable of changing. He shoved away from the wall. Damn them all to hell, he’d take Marguerite Lockwood out and show them all how wrong they were.
3
“You did what?”
Marguerite Lockwood swung around to face her siblings who sat together on the small blue chaise longue in her shadowed drawing room.
“We asked Lord Anthony Sokorvsky to squire you around town.” Lisette tried to look innocent. “Why are you so upset?”
“Because…” Marguerite spread her hands wide to express her inability to know where to start. “I don’t need you interfering in my life.”
“You do.” Christian stood up and towered over her. “You’ve been holed up here like a fox avoiding the hounds for almost two years. Isn’t it time you got on with your life?”
Marguerite narrowed her eyes and glared at them. The twins’ self-composure continued to surprise and irritate her. Sometimes she felt as if she were the baby of the family.
“I am quite happy as I am. I enjoy every luxury. I don’t have to worry about paying the rent…”
“You never go out.”
Marguerite frowned at her brother. “Of course I go out. I haven’t become a hermit!”
“All right, you never go out with a man.”
“I’m a widow.”
“Whose first marriage lasted barely a month.”
Marguerite clenched her fists so hard her fingernails bit into her flesh. “Why are you being so cruel, Christian?”
He shrugged. “Because we’ve tried everything else and nothing has worked. You hardly ever even lose your temper anymore. We’re all worried about you.”
“A fine way to show you are worried by picking at me.” Marguerite returned to her seat opposite the twins and glared at them.
Christian sighed as he too sat down. “I’m not trying to be cruel. I just want you to go out and enjoy yourself a bit more.”
“With a man I’ve never met?”
“Anthony Sokorvsky is the second son of the Marquis of Stratham and a frequent guest at the pleasure house. He is perfectly respectable.”
“And his presence at the pleasure house is supposed to recommend him to me?”
“Your husband visited Maman’s establishment, and you liked him well enough.”
Marguerite forced herself to ignore that unwelcome reminder and concentrate on the problem at hand. “And why would this Anthony Sokorvsky agree to escort me anyway? Is there something wrong with him?”
“Of course not. Like most young men, he is merely trying to avoid the matchmaking mothers. If he seems to be devoted to you, he hopes they will leave him alone.”
Marguerite stared hard at Christian, aware that he wasn’t quite telling her the truth, but as usual with her wily brother, she was unable to decipher exactly which part was the lie. She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back.
“I still don’t want to go out.”
“Marguerite…”
She scowled at them both. “I don’t have to do anything you tell me to.” Now she sounded like they were back in the nursery. “I’m an independent woman.”
“Who never has any fun.”
“I’ll leave that to you two.”
Lisette smiled and reached across to pat Marguerite’s knee. “We just want you to be happy. Will you at least agree to meet him? If you hate him, I promise we’ll stop bothering you.”
Marguerite shrugged off Lisette’s gentle touch. “All right, I’ll meet him if it means you two will stop nagging me.”
“Absolutely.” Christian bowed and turned to help Lisette up. “We’ll bring him for tea today at four.”
Marguerite watched the twins leave, their satisfaction evident on their smiling faces. Silence descended over the house as the front door shut and she was alone again. She smoothed the folds of her lavender gown. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps it was time for her to stop hiding.
With an abrupt movement, she left the drawing room and hurried up the stairs to her bedroom. The miniature of Justin that his mother had reluctantly given her sat on a table beside her four-poster bed. She sat on the quilted cover and picked up the gold frame, scrutinized his ordinary features, the smile in his brown eyes and the subtle curve of his mouth. She touched the cold glass with a fingertip and then set the miniature on the pillow.
It was becoming harder to remember what Justin had really been like. His warmth, his beauty, the feel of him naked in her arms, moving over her, inside her. Marguerite shuddered as she contemplated her perfectly made bed. So cold now, so lonely after experiencing a man’s love.
Maman had tactfully suggested Marguerite take advantage of the joys offered at the pleasure house. At first, she hadn’t been able to bear the thought of another man touching her or even watching anyone else enjoy what she could not. Now…she felt as empty as a dried-up lake. She stared at the frozen image of her husband. Would Justin understand that? Would he want her to be happy again?
She snatched up the portrait and kissed it, then she laughed at her own stupidity. Perhaps she was a little bored, but there was no need for such anxiety yet. She’d only agreed to meet Lord Anthony Sokorvsky, not go to bed with him. In a swirl of petticoats, she got up and hurried to find her bonnet and pelisse.
A