The Price of Desire. Jo Goodman

      

      THE PRICE OF DESIRE

      “We are of a kind, you and I,” Griffin said quietly. “I think you know it’s true.”

      Then he bent his head and laid his mouth over hers. There was very little pressure in the kiss, just a touch, a tender brush. Sweetness and solace. He offered only as much as he thought she could accept and was uncertain from the beginning if she could accept any of it.

      His hands slid from her elbows to the small of her back. He resisted the urge to pull her closer and instead let her find her own way into the shelter of his embrace. She edged closer, her mouth parting. He changed the slant of his mouth, licked her lower lip with the damp edge of his tongue.

      He caught the scent of lavender on her skin and the taste of mint on her mouth. The fragrance made him think peculiarly of innocence—the taste of things fresh and unsullied.

      Olivia raised her hands, then let them fall back to her side. She hadn’t quite known what she wanted to do with them. Touching him, her fingers on his shoulders, at the back of his neck, drifting into the curling ends of his dark hair, all of it seemed too much, or possibly it was that it wouldn’t have been enough.

      His kiss made her remember emptiness and longing. It made her think of what she could have in the moment, but would always be denied in the forever. In spite of that, or perhaps because of it, the kiss stirred her….

      Books by Jo Goodman

      The Captain’s Lady

      Crystal Passion

      Seaswept Abandon

      Velvet Night

      Violet Fire

      Scarlet Lies

      Tempting Torment

      Midnight Princess

      Passion’s Sweet Revenge

      Sweet Fire

      Wild Sweet Ecstasy

      Rogue’s Mistress

      Forever in My Heart

      Always in My Dreams

      Only in My Arms

      My Steadfast Heart

      My Reckless Heart

      With All My Heart

      More Than You Know

      More Than You Wished

      Let Me Be the One

      Everything I Ever Wanted

      All I Ever Needed

      Beyond a Wicked Kiss

      A Season to Be Sinful

      One Forbidden Evening

      If His Kiss Is Wicked

      The Price of Desire

      Published by Zebra Books

      THE PRICE OF DESIRE

      JO GOODMAN

      ZEBRA BOOKS

       Kensington Publishing Corp.

       www.kensingtonbooks.com

      For some of the people who’ve dropped seeds in my life.

       You may never see this,

       never know,

       that your seed was nourished and thrived.

       Recognition is long overdue.

      Mary Alice Dambaugh

       Barbara Keller

       Dr. Dietrich

       Amy Yohn

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Prologue

      London

       January 1823

      “The debt is £1,000.”

      Griffin Wright-Jones, Viscount Breckenridge, closed the book of accounts slowly, running his forefinger along the spine before he neatly squared it off so it was parallel to the edge of his desk. He set himself back just a fraction in his chair, inclining his back and resting his elbows on the wide, burnished leather arms. It was only then that he deigned to look up, one dark brow lifted in an expression of such mild curiosity that it could have been mistaken for indifference. He did not expect that the man standing at attention on the other side of the desk would make that error. Alastair Cole had too much at stake—£1,000, to be strictly accurate—to misjudge the situation.

      “I admit that at long last you have impressed me,” Breckenridge said.

      Alastair Cole said nothing. Did nothing.

      “If you schooled your features so well at the table, you would have discharged this debt handily. Mayhap you would not have amassed it.”

      “I will honor it, of course.”

      “Of course.” Breckenridge paused deliberately, though not overlong. Still, it was enough time to observe Mr. Cole shift his weight ever so slightly from his right foot to his left. This infinitesimal movement was accompanied by a shift in Cole’s gaze. “You are a gentleman, after all,” Breckenridge said. “I would expect nothing less.”

      “I am gratified you know it.”

      Breckenridge nodded slowly. “Your reputation is important to you, I imagine.” He noticed that Alastair Cole did not flinch, but he did blink. Twice. Breckenridge’s hands closed soundlessly in an attitude of prayer. He pressed the tips of his fingers together, making a steeple of them as he continued to regard Cole, considering. “You will likewise be aware that my reputation is important to me.”

      “My lord?”

      Breckenridge was now quite certain that Cole’s voice box was as tautly stretched as his nerves. There had been an alarming squeak as the man had uttered these last words. Judging by the scarlet color that rose above the stiff points of Cole’s collar, he had heard it as well.

      “I collect what is owed,” Breckenridge said. “That is my reputation. Do you understand?”

      “Yes.”

      “Good. Then you will not take offense when I ask how you plan to cover your losses.” Breckenridge permitted himself a small smile at Cole’s discomfort. Clearly the young man was offended at having the question put to him—a gentleman was taken at his word, after all—but he also seemed to sense that a toplofty tantrum was an indulgence he could ill afford. Breckenridge held up one hand, palm out, forestalling Cole’s answer just as the man’s lips parted around the lie he was about to tell. “And, pray, do not say you mean to ask for an advance on your quarterly allowance. We both know that such a request is unlikely to be granted.”

      Alastair