Sinful Liaisons
say no? She had to be the most spectacular thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Curvaceous, brazen, utterly sensual. And the way she cried out...
    He tugged on his necktie to straighten it and drew in a breath. If he wanted to go to dinner with a hard cock, he was going the right way about it. But, by God, he’d never heard anything like it. Evelyn was no prim miss, to be certain.
    “Right then,” he told himself.
    No putting it off. He had a performance to put on. He stepped into the long corridor and took a moment to find his bearings. The powder blue hallway led on seemingly forever, lined with gilded portraits and landscapes. The odd table and lamp broke it up and he grimaced. Even Lockwood Manor, the seat of his brother, wasn’t this big. Evelyn’s son was one rich boy.
    Left. He turned. No. Right. He turned again. It was a crying shame but his sense of direction always had been terrible. If he’d have continued walking along that road the previous day, he’d have probably wandered all the way to Scotland before finding civilization.
    Pierce straightened his shoulders in case he ran into a servant so he’d look like he knew what he was doing and finally found the main staircase leading down to the hall. As near as he could tell, Evelyn’s household comprised of only servants, gardeners and stable hands. There was no paid companion or other family members in residence. He gripped the brass banister and made his way down carpeted stairs. It was a wonder she hadn’t taken a lover sooner. She had implied she’d been considering it for a while but apparently none were up to the task.
    Was that apprehension in his gut? Pierce smirked to himself. Not at all. Merely anticipation, was it not? He knew full well he could give Evelyn everything she needed. None of his previous conquests had any complaints and with the desire that burned so brightly between them, how could he fail?
    Except he’d failed many times before. His gut had led him down this merry path many a time, leaving him in this destitute place. Perhaps he would do better not to take his success for granted.
    “Cynfell.”
    His gaze snapped to the woman waiting by the drawing room door. A vision in dark blue silk, she made him freeze on the final step. He curled his hand tight around the brass. He hardly recognised her. The gown cinched scandalously tight and dropped shockingly low, revealing two great swells of breasts. Her nipples appeared to be on the verge of escaping the tight bodice. It seemed she only wore a bustle and a thin petticoat as the length of the gown clung to her figure. So much for not being aroused during dinner...
    And then there was her hair and make-up. She had it coiled artfully around her face, making her appear younger. Rouge and lipstick made her features bolder. He wouldn’t say it but she looked a little like a lady of the night.
    He certainly couldn’t say he found it ridiculously appealing. Why that was, he didn’t know. The painted look of courtesans and whores never appealed before but on Evelyn there was something exotic and exciting about the look.
    “Evelyn, you look...”
    She waved a hand. “We are to dine out tonight, Cynfell.”
    Her gloved hands clasped in front of her and he detected a slight tremble in them. Was she nervous?
    “Indeed.”
    “There is a house on the outskirts of Berkshire—you may know it—where only the very privileged may go.”
    He narrowed his gaze at her. Surely she couldn’t be speaking of Stourbridge House—otherwise known as the House of Vice? Politicians, wealthy titled gentleman and the richest merchants visited to gamble, liaise with mistresses and generally have a decadent time away from the prying eyes of London society.
    “You know where I mean.”
    “I hope I’m wrong,” he replied stiffly.
    “Have you been there?”
    Pierce took the final step down and strode over. “I’ve been to many places but Stourbridge isn’t one of them. Too rich even for my tastes.”
    “I’ve

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