Page 5 of A Touch Wicked
Alexandra’s voice was low as she murmured, “You have no idea how many of them long to seduce a man of their choice.” She shrugged. “Or a woman. Sometimes both at the same time.”
Having a French mother, Emma was no stranger to rumors of women being intimate with one another, but the secrets of the Englishtonsurprised her. She supposed talk in Paris about the English being cold, passionless lovers couldn’t be all true. She’d heard enough about Lord Kent, after all. She’d fantasized about them for hours while touching herself.
“Seduction is certainly part of it, yes.”
The other part has to do with desiring intimate relations with your brother and I’m a complete fool for entertaining the notion.
“And the rest is—” Alexandra’s lip curved into a knowing smile — “curiosity?”
They both went silent as another lady and her maid passed them on the path. “The Dumont curse,” she whispered to Alexandra once it was clear again.
“The what?”
Emma sighed. “A silly notion I have.” At Alexandra’s expectant look, Emma explained, “Every woman in my family were mistresses abandoned by their lovers. I thought this would be a way to become intimate without . . .”
“Attachments? Risk of abandonment?”
Without falling in love.
But she didn’t say that. Emma didn’t wish to explain that it wasn't being a mistress she feared. After all, it was a valid social position for many.
No, the Dumont women always had their heart broken by titled gentlemen.
Emma herself was the result of her mother’s elicitaffaire d'amourwith the Duke of Southampton during his frequent visits to Paris. That is, until he abandoned them, stopped paying for their apartment, and moved on. Just like that.
Easy.
The Masquerade was Emma's chance to indulge in her desire for Lord Kent without consequence. He wouldn’t know who she was. She’d be someone else, someone mysterious. One night would leave no risk of falling in love with him and ending up like her mother.
She'd be the one to leave this time.
Easy.
“It doesn’t matter,” Emma said. “I don’t have a mask.”
Alexandra leaned in with a wicked smile. “I know someone who does.”
Chapter 3
James stood outside the white bricked building in Mayfair as his hired hack pulled away.
From the outside, it looked completely inconspicuous — quiet, even. There was no hint to what went on inside. If James didn’t know any better, he would have said the place looked empty. The curtains were drawn shut, and not a sliver of light penetrated to the outside.
Mask in hand, James crossed the empty, dark street and went around back as the invitation had directed him.
There it was: the heavy double doors that lead inside. James made certain he'd arrived fashionably late — well after midnight — so no one would be on the street by the time he entered. There was still a battle occurring between his brain and his arousal and frankly, the fantasies he envisioned were too erotic to ignore.
This gives you the opportunity to bed a woman in complete anonymity, no attachments. Hell, go bed several. Just make sure it’s enough to last a lifetime.
Damn it to hell, his fantasies won.
James slid the mask over his face and knotted the ribbons tightly at the back. Then he knocked on the heavy wooden door.
A small panel in the middle of the door slid open, but he could see no one’s face. A man’s deep voice asked, “Yes?”
James cleared his throat. “Tu peux garder un secret?”
The panel slid shut and not a moment later the heavy wooden door opened. It led to a small, dark receiving room with only flickering candles for light.
