Page 27 of The Heiress Masquerade (Dollar Princess #2)

The carriage ride to Wilheimer’s Dorset estate had been excruciating. Harrison had spent the four-hour trip doing his best to keep his knees and thighs from touching Aimee, who was sitting directly across from him, while Mrs. Holbrook sat next to her.

Being so close to Aimee had been torture, when all he kept thinking about was pulling her onto his lap and kissing her senseless, despite his ultimatum to her yesterday that he wouldn’t unless she agreed to marry him. His lack of self-control when it came to her was confounding, but having Mrs. Holbrook there meant he had to control himself. He just hoped he could do so for the entire weekend.

Thankfully, they were nearly at Wilheimer’s estate, and he’d have a cold shower when he got to his room—which he desperately needed, given all he could think about was how damn good it had felt touching and pleasuring her, and how much he wanted to be inside her again. Damn it, why couldn’t she just say yes and then he could happily continue where they’d left off?

But she was far too stubborn for that. What he needed was to convince her that marriage to him was worth giving up on her dreams for. But was it? His own dreams had been what saved him as a boy when despair nearly took over. Could he ask her to give up her dreams to marry him? He didn’t think he could. But how else could he rectify the situation of dishonoring her?

In the distance, he saw Wilheimer’s estate come into view, an enormous Tudor-style mansion, fully restored to its former glory and looking like something out of a gothic novel. A backdrop that would play a pivotal role in determining Harrison’s future, which should be what he was focusing on instead of Aimee.

He glanced over at Mrs. Holbrook, who was snoring lightly with her head propped against the side padding of the carriage, before he turned to stare at Aimee, who was peering out the window up at the carriages slowly winding their way up the drive.

“What was your take on Wilheimer and his grasp of English?” He broke the silence that they’d managed for the entire trip, speaking softly to not wake Mrs. Holbrook. “Do you think he can speak and understand it better than he lets on?”

“Oh, he definitely has a basic grasp of English,” she whispered back, turning her attention to him, her big blue eyes piercingly gorgeous in the early afternoon sunlight. “But no, I don’t think he understands it enough to discuss business principles or the legalities and intricacies of a company buyout. He was genuinely surprised and furious to find out he’d been lied to by the translator.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, rubbing his chin in thought. “What if he was behind the interpreter misinterpreting everything?”

“Anything is possible,” she replied with a light shrug. “But why would he have insisted I come along and interpret this weekend if that were the case?”

“Aside from the obvious fact that you’re stunning, and the man probably wants to add you to his harem of mistresses?”

“His harem of mistresses?”

“He has a wife and at least three mistresses on the side.”

“That is practically a harem. But the man must be in his mid-sixties; what’s he doing with three mistresses and a wife?”

“Staying physically active, I’d say.” Harrison winked at her. “I can only wish for that sort of stamina when I’m his age.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, an expression of acute distaste on her face. “Do you intend to have a harem of mistresses, too?”

He laughed at that. “I can’t even keep the one lady I intend to marry happy. How on earth would I manage even one more?”

Aimee pressed her lips together before quickly glancing over to Mrs. Holbrook, who was starting to stir. “Perhaps you can’t keep her happy because you keep mentioning the M word, which she doesn’t want anything to do with.”

“That’s only because she’s somewhat naive about the inevitable.” He managed to keep a straight face, even when her eyes narrowed and he could tell she was biting her tongue to keep from berating him and waking Mrs. Holbrook.

“An interesting way of describing her behavior,” she whispered. “When one might call you delusional for even thinking she’d agree to marry you in the first place, when you know she’s more likely to shoot you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, thoroughly enjoying bantering with this woman more than he had with anyone else in a long time. The realization stopped him short. He did truly enjoy spending time with her, even when they butted heads. The woman was quick-witted, bold, and didn’t step on eggshells around him. She fascinated him without even trying to.

And when all his other paramours had tried to corral him into marriage, here she was running for the hills. Who’d have thought a Dollar Princess would ever say no to marriage with a future earl?

Would that change if he loved her? Not that he did, even if he’d never felt this way about anyone before. But liking her a lot, probably more than he’d ever liked another woman before, wasn’t love, was it? Certainly, he enjoyed her company, and if he was being honest, he even looked forward to spending time with her. But that wasn’t love, either. He couldn’t feel love for anyone. That emotion was far too dangerous to fall into. Even if for some reason, the idea of it suddenly wasn’t so foreign or terrifying as he’d once believed it to be.

Mrs. Holbrook stirred and then blinked at them both, a sheepish expression in her eyes as she slowly woke from her nap. “Oh dear, did I fall asleep?”

“Yes, but you waking was good timing as we’re practically here.” Aimee pointed out the window to her right, to the estate ahead.

A few minutes later, the carriage crested the drive and began to slowly wind its way to the front entrance where Wilheimer and a woman were greeting the new arrivals from the carriage ahead of them.

“His wife or one of his harem?” Aimee asked Harrison, with a raise of her brow.

“The man has a harem?” Mrs. Holbrook gasped.

“He has a wife and three mistresses,” Aimee replied.

“Good gracious!” Mrs. Holbrook exclaimed, and both he and Aimee grinned at the woman’s expression of outrage. “How shocking.”

“It is, isn’t it,” Aimee replied. “One wonders why women even get married when their husbands carry on like that.”

She directed her last words straight at Harrison, and he frowned. He’d never cheated on any of the women he’d had liaisons with, and he had no intention of doing so when he did marry. “There are many benefits to marriage, Miss Jenkins.”

“For a man, Mr. Stone,” she pertly replied. “Not a woman. In any event, I’m sure the lady with Wilheimer is his wife.”

“Given his mistresses are half his age, you’re probably right.” He looked over to the woman next to Wilheimer, noting she was probably in her early fifties, with a trim figure. “Though he’ll probably have one of his mistresses here, too, tucked away for the weekend.”

“You say that without blinking an eye,” Aimee said with a frown.

“It’s just how it is,” he replied, to which her frown turned into a furious scowl. He grinned and held his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s not what I would do, but it’s generally how gentlemen in Society behave.”

“That’s because most of Society don’t marry for love,” she said. “So they go looking for it elsewhere.”

“One doesn’t have to marry for love to be faithful, especially not if there’s an attraction and desire for each other present.” For a moment, he couldn’t disguise the hunger for her in his eyes. And if Mrs. Holbrook hadn’t been there, he would have hauled Aimee onto his lap and kissed her until she was moaning his name aloud.

Thankfully, the carriage came to a halt and the door opened, bringing Harrison back to his senses. The two ladies exited, while Harrison followed behind, stepping out onto the path as Wilheimer and the lady stepped forward to greet them, their butler beside them.

Wilheimer extended his hand and Harrison took it in his own, shaking it thoroughly while staring intently into the man’s eyes. Wilheimer returned his stare before Harrison released his grip, and the man turned to both Aimee and Mrs. Holbrook and said welcome in a heavily accented English. He then bent down and kissed both ladies on their gloved knuckles, while Harrison did likewise with the woman next to Wilheimer.

“Mrs. Wilheimer, I’m presuming?” Harrison asked the lady as he straightened, frowning when from the corner of his eyes he noticed Wilheimer’s hand lingered a bit longer on Aimee’s hand than it had on Mrs. Holbrook’s.

The lady’s eyes followed his, an expression of resignation crossing her features before she masked it and turned back to regard Harrison. “Yes, I am Maria Wilheimer, and my husband and I welcome you to our country estate,” she replied in a heavy accent.

“You speak English well,” Harrison commented, wondering again how much English Wilheimer did or didn’t speak.

Maria shrugged. “Enough to be understood. Seeing Franz still refuses to learn.” She glanced over at her husband, who was now watching Harrison like a hawk.

“Deutsche M?nner k?nnen sehr stur sein,” Aimee said.

The woman’s gaze swung with great interest over to her. “Du sprichst Deutsch?”

“I do speak German,” Aimee replied in English. “It’s the reason Mr. Wilheimer requested I attend this weekend so I could translate.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s the reason he wanted you to attend,” Maria replied, with a small sigh.

Wilheimer said something in German, and his wife frowned before replying back to him in rapid German, too.

“He wants to discuss business with you,” Aimee said to Harrison. “But his wife is saying later.”

“I’d rather discuss it now, too,” Harrison replied, subjecting himself to a frown from Maria.

“Business later,” Maria said with a definite shake of her head, her gaze pinning first Harrison and then Wilheimer with a no-nonsense glare, until both men reluctantly nodded. “Good,” she said with a bob of her chin. “Now, you follow my butler, who’ll show you to your rooms where you can freshen up. Everyone will meet for tea and cake in two hours out in the greenhouse in the far gardens.” The woman gestured over to the entrance behind her, while the butler ushered them to follow.

With a reluctant nod to their hosts, Harrison followed Mrs. Holbrook and Aimee as the butler led them through the foyer and up the marble staircase to the first floor.

“That was interesting,” Aimee said over her shoulder to him as they followed the butler down the hallway.

“How?” Harrison asked, somewhat distracted by the alluring sway of her hips in the deep sapphire-blue skirt that molded her figure to perfection. His hands itched to draw her to him and press himself against her softness.

How the hell was he going to get through a weekend without touching her? At least Mrs. Holbrook was there to play chaperone, which he imagined she’d do well, given she’d been suspicious of them both all week.

“Well, Maria Wilheimer clearly speaks English. Not enough for the intricacies of a business transaction, but enough that Wilheimer could have made use of her skills to discuss the basics with you,” Aimee replied, pausing in response to the butler stopping and showing Mrs. Holbrook to her room.

“If you both don’t mind,” Mrs. Holbrook said as she paused at the door and glanced back at them both. “I might have a small lie-down as I’m feeling a tad unsettled in the stomach.”

“Can I get you anything?” Aimee asked, her face crinkling in concern.

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll call for a pot of tea but otherwise, rest is what I need,” Mrs. Holbrook said. “I’ll meet you both down in the greenhouse in two hours.”

Mrs. Holbrook entered her room then closed the door, while the butler continued ushering them down the corridor to their rooms.

“This way, please,” he said to them, striding down to the end of the hall and turning right.

Aimee and Harrison quickened their pace to follow as the butler walked down to the end of the hall and turned right. A few moments later, he showed them both to their rooms, adjoining rooms, which made no sense given Harrison was certain Wilheimer had asked Aimee here with a view to try to charm her himself.

“If you need anything, there is a bell pull in each of your rooms,” the butler said. “The greenhouse is in the far back gardens, about a five-minute stroll from the back of the residence, through the gardens and forest. There will be some footmen along the way to guide you.” He then nodded to them both and turned on his heel, striding back the way they’d just come.

“Adjoining rooms, how convenient,” Aimee said, walking over to the adjoining door and opening it. “And it’s not locked, either. How handy.” She glanced back at him and grinned.

Harrison blinked. “Excuse me?”

The minx had the audacity to wink at him. “We’ll make good use of these doors into each other’s room this weekend, won’t we?”

“We will?” Was she really talking about what he thought she was? Suddenly, his necktie felt suffocatingly tight.

“Yes, to discuss the Wilheimer deal, of course.” She was staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers. “Did you think I meant something different?”

He caught the little twitch at the corner of her lips and knew the woman was teasing him. Tormenting him, too, given the images that had arisen over just what they could get up to without interruption…images he was having a hard time shaking.

“Are you purposefully trying to provoke me?”

“Perhaps.” She grinned at him. “Is it working?”

He couldn’t help himself. He stepped into the room, kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot, then strode over to stand in front of her. Glancing down into her bright blue eyes, eyes that he could have sworn were sparkling brighter than the stars, he realized she really was quite the most gorgeous woman he’d ever known, and it wasn’t just her looks that made her that way.

There was a vibrancy about her, a zest for life and adventure that he was drawn to, despite all his reservations to the contrary. She was the light to his darkness, and he needed to feel her again, to be surrounded by her warmth and her essence. His marriage ultimatum be damned.

Almost tentatively, he reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand, a fission of heat scoring his palm and shooting down his spine. “It’s working.”

“Good, because I’ve been wanting to do this for days.”

And before he could gather his wits, she launched herself into his arms, winding her hands around his neck and bringing his head down to her, until their lips met in a clash of pent-up heat and frustration. All thoughts of why he shouldn’t be doing this with her fled in an instant, as an all-consuming desire filled him to the point where nothing else mattered but her.

They tore at each other’s clothing, pulling at the material in a frenzy as they stumbled over to the bed, their hands and mouths all over each other.

They fell onto the mattress, Aimee on top of him. She unbuttoned his trousers, her fingers flying over the material, and Harrison lifted his hips to help her, his cock springing free of the confines a moment later.

He shuddered in pleasure when her fingers began to stroke his cock, but then when her mouth replaced her hand, he nearly came on the spot. He dug his fingers into the sheet, desperately trying to control himself, but her tongue flicked across his shaft, teasing and tasting him until he didn’t think he’d be able to stand it.

He flipped her over onto her back and pulled her skirts up and pushed down her drawers. Then he buried his head in her curls at the junction of her thighs.

“Oh my,” she moaned, her wet passage tasting like the sweetest nectar he’d ever sampled. He sucked on her nub and gently pushed his fingers inside her, her hips thrusting against his hand, as she began panting and grabbing at the sheets, too. He flicked his tongue against her and feasted on her mound, until she began bucking under him, screaming in pleasure.

He replaced his mouth and fingers with his cock, pumping inside her over and over until she began writhing under him again, and her wet passage squeezed tightly around his cock. As she orgasmed again, he began to pump his seed inside of her, waves of ecstasy gripping him, before he collapsed on the bed beside her, completely spent, but feeling so goddamned satisfied that he never wanted to let her go.

But rather than the thought scaring him, he wrapped his arms around her and breathed her in as she snuggled against him. And as exhaustion began to overtake him, he realized he felt something he hadn’t ever before.

He felt at peace.