The Sweetest Sin Read online

  He got into the carriage and settled back as it began to move. He hated when his thoughts turned so maudlin. When he couldn’t get her out of his head. Why couldn’t he forget her after all this time? Why couldn’t he get it through his skull that she had chosen to pretend that their marriage had never happened and given herself to another man at her father’s bidding? Why couldn’t he get passed that Juliana hadn’t trusted him enough to fight for their love?

  “Our love,” he spat, laughing at himself, though he found no humor in the situation, even with the benefit of years between them.

  Clearly there was no love on her part. And over time, his love had soured. Twisted. Turned to anger. Sometimes even veered toward hate. It colored everything in his life. And forced him to work harder, longer, be driven. People respected him for that, but if they knew the truth, they wouldn’t think he was so strong.

  The carriage pulled to a stop outside his home on St. James Street. Landon looked up in surprise. He’d been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized the journey had passed. Well, it was time to go inside and drown those thoughts away. First a bottle of gin. Then perhaps another of sherry. By then he’d be good and sauced and hopefully he would sleep without dreaming of Juliana’s mouth. Her hair. Her touch. Her everything.

  He went to his door and sighed as it opened before he even lifted his hand to the knob. Trust Winston to be waiting, even though Landon was early.

  “Good evening, sir,” he said as he took Landon’s hat, gloves and coat in turn.

  “Winston. Any messages?”

  Landon had only been in London for a few hours, but he was sure his arrival was known. There were several issues to be discussed amongst his political circles and he wasn’t surprised when Winston retrieved a small stack of cards and messages from the silver platter beside the door.

  “And you have a visitor, sir, as well.”

  Landon looked up from a missive sealed with the Prince’s mark. “I had a visitor?”

  “No, sir. You have one presently.”

  “Right now?” Landon repeated, surprised. He hadn’t invited anyone tonight since he knew he would be dining with Hawk and Bianca.

  “Yes. I tried to tell the lady that you would not return until very late, but she was quite insistent.” His butler gave him a look, one that said the lady had forced herself in and might not have been particularly ladylike about it.

  “A lady?” Landon cocked his head. This mystery grew more fascinating by the moment. “Who?”

  “Lady Breckinhill, sir,” Winston said, completely unaware that he had just plucked Landon’s heart from his chest and ground it beneath his heel.

  Landon reeled back. “Juliana? Juliana is here?”

  * * *

  “Breathe,” Juliana told herself as she paced around Landon’s front parlor. “Just breathe.”

  Damn it to hell, that wasn’t working. She couldn’t breathe. She was surprised she could walk considering how utterly terrified she was. Terrified and filled with wild anticipation in equal measure. Landon. Landon would be here soon.

  She fisted her hands as she went to the window and stared out at the dark gardens below. All she could see were shadows, but it didn’t matter. The full, glorious sun could be shining down and she wouldn’t have seen anything more than she could now. Her thoughts kept her from attending to anything around her too closely.

  The door creaked and she tensed, even though she knew it was likely only Landon’s stodgy butler to insist, once again, that his master would be out all night.

  Where was he when he’d only just arrived in London? With his political cronies? With his family?

  Perhaps with some woman. She shivered at that thought. Just because he never had any public trysts didn’t mean he wasn’t having a secret affair. A man of his passions…

  No, she couldn’t think of his passions. That wasn’t why she was here, despite how her body quickened, flushed when she thought of him.

  “Juliana?”

  Against her will, Juliana spun on the voice at the door. And suddenly, he was there. Not one of her many fantasies. Not a dream. But him. Landon Hawkins.

  He looked so much the same, yet so different. The intervening years had broadened his shoulders, angled his face. His dark hair was a little longer, too. She had seen him from across the room a few times, slim as they were, since she had avoided any place where he might be and always fled before she got too near. But now he was within a few steps of her. Looking directly at her. And something was very different about him.

  He was still the love of her life.

  But he despised her. She saw it in his gray eyes. She saw it in the way he clutched the doorframe with white knuckles. The way his face was taut and tense with anger and other equally powerful emotions. She heard it in the way he spat her name as if it was a curse.

  “Landon,” she breathed. It was a stupid thing to say. She should have said something better than just his name, but for the moment that was the only thing she could remember. That and the images of every time he’d touched her, loved her.

  He didn’t step into the room further. He didn’t shut the door to give them privacy.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, straightening up as he gathered his composure. “I should call you Lady Breckinhill, shouldn’t I?”

  Juliana flinched. “M-My husband is dead, surely you heard.”

  His eyes widened and darkened from light gray to stormy, dangerous seas. She remembered what that meant. Landon’s eyes only darkened with two emotions. Desire. And hatred.

  Somehow she doubted it was desire that made him tremble.

  He stepped inside, slamming the door with such a loud bang that she winced. He stalked toward her in three long steps and reached for her. She readied herself for his touch, but it didn’t come. Just before he caught her arms, he stopped.

  His breathing came short. His eyes wild. And then he said, “Your husband isn’t dead, Juliana. We both know full well that you are looking at him.”

  She turned away, unable to stare at him when he had such deep, abiding rage in his eyes. Knowing that the anger was directed entirely toward her. And fully deserved. She just hadn’t expected him to still care so much after so long.

  The knowledge gave her a very brief, but equally powerful, thrill.

  “Our marriage was annulled,” she whispered, looking at the carpet below her feet instead of him.

  “On false pretences,” he said, his voice dangerously, deceptively quiet.

  She heard the strong emotion coursing through every word and knew it wouldn’t take much for him to explode. He would never hurt her, she knew that even now. Landon could never lay a finger on her, unlike her late husband. Unlike her father. He wasn’t that kind of man.

  But she still shuddered to think what the results of his pent up rage would be. So she didn’t answer his statement.

  And that made it worse. He didn’t touch her, though he easily could have grasped her arm and turned her to face him. Instead, he walked around so that she was looking at him again.

  “You lied to the vicar. You told him you were forced to wed me and that our marriage was never consummated. You even claimed that you were not in your right mind when you said your vows. You lied, Juliana and that is the only reason you were granted an annulment.”

  She shut her eyes. God, it hurt to see him. To be so close that she could smell the spicy scent of his skin. He smelled the same. Still a little exotic. She would forever associate that smell with love and laughter and powerful passion.

  “That may be so,” she said, tilting her chin up. “But only you and I know that. In the eyes of the law, we are no longer married. In fact, we never were.”

  Again, his hand stirred at his side and again she waited for him to grasp her arms, to pull her closer. Yet he wouldn’t allow himself to touch her. She felt him battling with the desire to do so with every fiber of his being. And though she knew the touch would be harsh, she longed for it. But he denied her.

>   “The eyes of the law are not what matter. In the eyes of God and in my eyes, you are my wife. My faithless, lying wife.” He spun away, stalking the room like a lion pent up in a cage for far too long. His muscles all but rippled with indignation beneath his crisp shirt and well-tailored jacket. And his boots made heavy, angry foot falls with each step.

  “Landon-” she began, longing to explain, though the reasons for what she had done all those years ago were inexplicable. Even to herself. Telling him why wouldn’t make things any better. It would only result in both of them having to live with the bitter truth. It was hard enough to do that on her own. She couldn’t put Landon in that position. She’d almost rather live with his scorn.

  He cut her off, his voice low and harsh, but no longer angry. Just weary. “Why are you here, Juliana?”

  She hesitated. She had her own questions about the virtue of being here, but she had no choice. “I came here because-because I need your help, Landon.”

  He barked out a harsh laugh and it was the ugliest sound she’d ever heard. She winced despite her efforts not to let him know how deeply his contempt cut her.

  “You need my help?” he repeated as he leaned back on the arm of a nearby chair and folded his arms. “Well, that is certainly intriguing.”

  She drew in a sharp breath and forced herself to continue with her explanation. “Do you remember my younger sister?”

  For a moment, he only stared at her and she thought he might simply throw her out of the house without hearing her plea. Her hands began to tremble with fear that he would do just that. Where would she go then? Who would help her?

  But then he nodded. “Yes. Evelyn.”

  Tears pricked behind Juliana’s eyes, but she blinked them back with all her might. She would not cry in front of Landon. She would not, no matter how much she wanted to throw herself into his arms.

  “She is- missing,” she choked out.

  Landon’s eyes narrowed. “Missing?” he repeated. “Or did your father sell her to settle a debt?”

  He remembered everything too well. Juliana’s knees began to tremble and she sank into the nearest chair. Covering her eyes, she willed herself to remain calm. It was difficult, but falling apart wouldn’t help Evelyn. And it certainly wouldn’t convince Landon to assist her.

  “Yes, my father sold her.” She sighed, never looking up, but feeling Landon’s stare burn through her. “His gambling has increased recently. Mostly with one small group of men. At first he won, won quite a bit, actually.”

  “Every man hits a lucky streak, even your father,” Landon scoffed.

  She nodded. The lucky times fed her father’s need to game all the more when he started to lose. She hated them even though he bought more things for her and Evelyn when fortune was on his side.

  “But then someone started calling in his debts and my father grew desperate. He wagered more and more to pay back what he owed and lost more and more in the process. He won’t tell me whom he sold my sister to, where they are or even for how long he made a bargain for the blackguard to keep her…but one of the men in his circle has Evelyn. And I-I-”

  She had tried to remain strong for her sister’s sake. For two days, she’d fought to keep her composure as she questioned servants and looked through her father’s paperwork, but now the severity of the situation overwhelmed her. When she thought of Evelyn, alone and frightened with some bastard who was probably raping her even as Juliana sat there helpless…

  A sob broke past her throat. She tried to bite back a second, but she couldn’t. Tears began to fall down her cheeks, silent and hot against her cold skin.

  “Juliana,” Landon whispered.

  Her eyes darted up at the gentle, soothing tone of his voice. He hadn’t touched her to comfort her, but his voice was so kind. So sweet. So…Landon. The Landon of five years ago who had vowed to protect her.

  Their eyes met and for a moment she was the girl he had married and he was the man who still loved her. But when she blinked, the illusion was gone and the hardness returned to his stare.

  “And why did you come to me?” he asked, his tone cold and even again.

  She shivered as she swiped at the tears. Slowly, she stood. This was no time to waver. “Because you are powerful, Landon. You have connections my family couldn’t dream of. I heard how you intervened when Hawk’s wife was missing. You put the force of the entire city into finding her.”

  “There are others who could do that for you.”

  She dipped her head. “If word of this got out…Evelyn would be ruined. The details would destroy her, just as much as whatever she is going through now is probably destroying her. And I-I know that you won’t tell anyone about her shame.”

  He cocked his head, curiosity lighting in his stare. “Why do you think I wouldn’t tell anyone?”

  “Because you never told anyone about our marriage, even though you could have ruined me. And you despise me. I don’t think you’d hurt Evelyn if you wouldn’t hurt me. She is innocent.”

  He pushed off the chair arm and walked to the window where she had been standing when he entered the room. He looked outside with eyes just as unseeing as hers had been.

  “I never told anyone about our marriage because it would have hurt me as much as it would hurt you,” he said softly.

  She didn’t respond. The barb was meant to hurt her, but she couldn’t allow herself to be hurt. She needed him to help Evelyn. She had to endure whatever punishment he doled out. She would to protect her sister.

  God help her, she had done far worse in the past.

  “Will you assist me? Please.”

  * * *

  Perhaps it was because she said please. Or perhaps it was because the last time she said that word, it was gasped out in passion as she begged him to give her release from sensual torment. But when Landon looked at Juliana, ready to refuse her outrageous demand, something in him cracked.

  The hard shell he built around himself after she deserted him was formed by necessity. Love had scarred him before and he let no woman touch his heart. Very few touched his body. He never let desire or need rule him.

  But a fire, always present but hidden beneath his mask of propriety, suddenly exploded when he looked at Juliana. Her lips were parted, red from nibbling them in nervousness. Her cheeks shone from emotion and her eyes were wide and wet. She looked so innocent. So sensual. And he wanted her.

  Despite everything, his whole body thrummed with need. He felt more alive than he had for…well, for five years. And he liked it. He’d stuffed the wild side of his personality away for a long time, but now it peeked out. And it wanted Juliana. On her back, in his bed, screaming his name.

  “You require my help,” he croaked. “I can do that.”

  She breathed a loud sigh of relief and some of the tension left her eyes. “Thank you, Landon. Oh, thank you. You don’t know what this mean-”

  “I am not finished, my lady,” he barked, cutting her off. “There are terms to this deal. There are stipulations.”

  Some of the pink color drained from her cheeks and her eyes widened. “Stipulations,” she repeated.

  “Yes.” He was remembering how good it felt to be a little wicked. Ignoring the rational side of him that told him to put her out on the street and drink until his sanity returned, he stepped closer. “You see, I want something from you in return for my assistance.”

  He watched her slender throat work as she swallowed. He couldn’t help but look at her swollen lips and remember what they had felt like wrapped around his cock the last night they spent together. His erection, which had half readied itself upon seeing her, moved to full attention at the memory.

  “What do you want?” she rasped, but her wide eyes had already strayed to the thrust of his trousers. She knew he desired her.

  And was that triumph that lit in her stare?

  “Whether the law recognizes it or not, my dear, I am your husband,” he drawled, moving even closer. “And you have been sorely remiss in
granting me my husbandly rights. I want them.”

  She was out of the chair, stumbling away before he could take another breath. Her hands fluttered to her cheeks and she covered them, though he saw the red tinge of a blush darken her lily-white skin. Damn, her face nearly matched her auburn locks.

  “You don’t mean… you don’t want… you want to make love with me?” she asked, shaking her head as she tried to understand. Tried to convince herself that she hadn’t heard him clearly.

  He smiled, though he was anything but good humored. “No, Juliana. I want to fuck you.”

  She flinched at the vulgar term and he flinched along with her. What did this woman do to him that she had him saying something so lewd in front of a lady? Landon Hawkins, member of the House of Lords, would never do such a thing.

  But he had. And his cock lengthened.

  “I will conduct a very quiet, very thorough search for your sister during the day. I will bring every resource of the Hawkins name into play to determine who her captor is, where he has taken her and to bring her home safely,” he explained. “But my services are not free. Each night you will come to my home and pay me with your body.”

  “Landon,” she murmured, but despite her shocked expression, he saw, deep within her eyes, a flicker of powerful arousal.

  He stalked another step closer. “You will give me whatever I desire. Wherever I desire. Whenever I desire. You will not refuse any demand I make. Your body will be mine from dusk until dawn.”

  Her lip quivered, but her thin gown couldn’t hide the tightening of her nipples. God, he wanted to touch her. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He wouldn’t stay in control if he did. And he needed her to acquiesce to his demands before he let himself go. Before he indulged in every dark, lusty fantasy he’d had of Juliana since she left him.

  Struggling to make his face as hard as his cock throbbed, he said, “Those are my terms, Juliana. Take my offer, or find someone else to help you.”

  Chapter Two

  Juliana should have been shocked by Landon’s demand. It was demeaning. It was cruel. It was a calculated way to get revenge.