Free The Scoundrel's Lover by Jess Michaels

sometimes all but overtook her in her bed and made her fingers work wildly over her sex. She wanted to be his .
    The thoughts made her jolt in shock, and she pressed her hands to his chest and shoved.
    “No,” she said, but the word had no heat behind it.
    Despite that fact, he immediately released her and retook his seat on the edge of his desk. He said nothing as she backed away from him, but watched her with such intensity that she had no choice but to turn away just so that she could remember how to breathe.
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Rivers. I’m certain you must think very low of me,” she whispered.
    “Why would I think any less of you, Annabelle?” he asked, his voice soft and seductive over her shoulder. She couldn’t help but turn and found his expression utterly unreadable. “I believe it was I who kissed you.”
    She swallowed. That was most definitely true. She might have wanted to kiss him, in that dark place she needed to destroy, but she never would have been so bold as to actually instigate the caress.
    “But I—I responded,” she said, shaking her head as she relived that response in every nerve ending of her shaking body.
    “Yes, you did that. But again, I couldn’t judge you. In fact, I very much enjoyed it.”
    Heat filled her cheeks, and Annabelle fought hard to remember her goals. Her desires. Respectability would not be found with a notorious club owner who awakened the worst longings in her.
    “Still, I can’t,” she whispered. “So I shouldn’t have so eagerly allowed this transgression.”
    “You can’t, Annabelle, or you won’t?”
    Annabelle clenched her hands. His question was at the core of her current situation. Yes, she could give in to what her body seemed to want more and more. She could march over to Marcus’s desk and continue what they’d started.
    But she wouldn’t, because she knew once she surrendered to that part of herself, that very Flynn element that haunted her every thought and action, there would be no going back. And for a woman like herself, there would very likely be ruin and pain.
    “Either can’t or won’t, the result is the same,” she said. “I am not like them. I can’t be. Or won’t be. You can take your pick if it pleases you.”
    He didn’t look pleased as he stared at her, holding her as if he had pinned her to her spot. She had no idea of his thoughts, and she found she wished she did. Rivers was…fascinating.
    He got up and moved around to sit properly at his desk. The barrier between them made it somehow easier to breathe, and she allowed herself to ease back toward him as she awaited his response.
    “Your brother is a regular visitor here on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” he said, his tone brusque and professional again. “He comes at other times during the week, but those are the times I can almost guarantee he will be here. He comes around ten most nights.”
    She blinked. “Are you saying you will allow me access to the club to watch over him?”
    He hesitated, and she could see this was truly a struggle for him. Whether it was because he didn’t want to the trouble of her coming here or because he felt she would be in danger or he simply was upset that she had pulled away from his kiss, she didn’t know.
    After a moment, he said, “Yes, you may come on those nights. And I will attempt to inform you of other times Crispin comes to the Masquerade.”
    Her heart leapt and she stepped closer. He watched her as she did so, and her body reacted accordingly. She ignored the tingling response.
    “Tomorrow is Thursday,” she stated.
    He nodded. “Yes. If you come, be sure to bring a mask and put it on before you leave your carriage. Make sure your maid has one as well, if you insist on bringing her as you did today. She will be taken to the servant area.”
    Annabelle worried her lip. “Will Deirdre be safe there?”
    “You think the debauchery here continues below stairs?” Marcus asked, brow arched.
    “It would be foolish to assume