Black Silk. Sharon Page

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СКАЧАТЬ I have to find her.”

      Doubt crept in at the edges of her conviction. Several times Georgiana had offered the chance of naughty adventure. A man to make love to her or to do everything but! She’d refused—more out of the fear of giving great leverage to Georgiana. If Georgiana knew she’d made love, she would be a slave to her partner, willing to do anything to protect her secret.

      Though, really, one hint from Georgiana that a Miss Maryanne Hamilton edited erotic books and her entire life would be devastated. It was only the certainty that Georgiana needed her that kept her feeling safe. She’d grown up learning not to trust. Not anyone.

      Rodesson, her father, had made so many promises and had never kept a one. They were never suitable for him, never convenient, and she’d learned, of course, that one rushed to keep promises for someone one was determined to keep.

      “I had to assume her letter was the truth. I couldn’t turn my back on Georgiana’s plea.”

      Swansborough got up from the chaise and patted her head. Even gave her a scratch behind her ear like a favored pup. “You aren’t going back out there, sweetheart. I promise you that Georgiana was not here when I arrived.”

      She heard the hesitation and pounced. “But she could have been here. They find clues, don’t they? And go from one scandalous place to another. What if Georgiana went to the next place?”

      A thought struck. What if Georgiana had planned such a thing all along? Instead of revealing where she really was, she went to the next place in the hunt and directed Maryanne here. All Maryanne needed to know was where to go next.

      She needed one of the clues.

      Swansborough gave her a lazy smile, the sort a lion would to a gazelle trapped beneath its paw.

      “You have the most dangerous look in your eyes.” He had his trousers in his hands. “And considering I can see it even though you are masked, it definitely strikes fear in my heart.”

      Determined, fighting nerves, she got up. Smoothed her skirts—as hopeless as that was. “I need the clue,” she said and gave her explanation.

      His dark brows lifted. “Georgiana is that clever?” At her nod, he shook his head. “Astounding. You do realize you have to be whipped to get that clue.”

      “What?”

      “The lady of each couple is to be tied up and whipped. The gentleman is to receive some anal play from willing wenches while the whipping takes place.”

      Georgiana had sent her here to be whipped?

      “Do you still want a clue, sweetheart?”

      “I don’t want to be whipped!”

      “At the hands of an expert, it can be quite a sensual experience.”

      “You’re mad! No!”

      “I’ve never had a jade be quite so blunt, love.”

      A mistake. Perhaps women readily agreed to be whipped if the suggestion was made by a man like Lord Swansborough. What if Georgiana’s life depended on her submitting to a lash?

      “Not to worry, love.” That generous smile again, this one lighting up his eyes.

      Easy for him to say that.

      “I will get you a clue.”

      “How—”

      “Lock the door behind me, lass,” he continued without pause. “Barricade it if you wish. When I return I’ll knock three times and serenade you.” He fumbled with the buttons on his trousers.

      “You’re drunk.”

      “Not enough to stopping thinking, alas.” He picked up a wing chair and carried it to the door. He wore shirt, trousers, shoes, and an open waistcoat. “Shove the back under the knob,” he instructed.

      She certainly knew how to barricade a door. She had both an older sister and a younger one.

      The instant he closed the door behind him, and she was alone, Maryanne sprinted over, turned the key in the lock, and jammed the chair in place.

      Now all she could do was wait.

      And think about how exquisite it had been to hold the broad vee of his back and surge up to meet his thrusting cock.

      Or she could think about being ruined. Think about being pregnant, possibly.

      Think about how gloriously she had thrown away her life.

      He had promised her the clue, and now he must live up to his promise. Besides, he needed the clue, too.

      The brandy began to taste sour in Dash’s mouth, and his head buzzed with the descent from lust and alcoholic madness.

      He’d thought his cousin hadn’t known.

      Murderer.

      The word still rang in his head. His cousin Robert thought he was responsible for an innocent man’s death—for the death of Robert’s older brother, Simon.

      He needed to shove aside those thoughts. He wished he could go back to Verity to obliterate his memories with ecstasy. To obliterate his mind.

      There was drink to be found everywhere—carried on silver trays by half-naked footmen. He threw two glasses of champagne into his belly. The dull roar in his head focused once more.

      The couplets of the clue that brought him here danced in his head:

      Dark pleasures on the fringes of Mayfair for the daring, the bold

      Bindings at slim wrist and ankle fair, the flick of a lash to behold

      ’Til torment and ecstasy shatter the voluptuous lass

      And willing wenches use clever tongues to pleasure a gentleman’s ass

      The last line was raw, blunt, designed to titillate. He enjoyed anal play, especially from a woman’s tongue—it was a treat rarely bestowed. A soak in the tub followed by a woman lying between his thighs, licking cock, ballocks, and anus. Such a rare boon, he had to admit he’d be almost tempted to take Verity to the dungeon, if she were to enjoy the same fun and avoid the whipping. But genuine horror had shown in her brown eyes at the thought of birch work.

      Scavenger hunters—in couples—held the clue cards and raced toward a plain wooden door set in the wall of one of the back rooms of the town house. He’d been here months ago—Dante’s Dungeon was famed amongst those who sought dark pleasures.

      As he followed the crowd down the narrow, twisting staircase, he overheard snippets of conversation. All the women expressed the same fear: “Am I really to be bound? To be whipped?” And the men laughed about their fate with the wicked jades awaiting them—a pretty pink tongue thrusting in their asses.

      Dash joined the crowd that stood in the shadows of the punishment cell. One nude auburn beauty was being shackled in place. She gave her partner a fetching smile. A proper СКАЧАТЬ