Taboo

by Michaels, Jess

• ISBN13: 9780061657719
• ISBN10: 0061657719
• Edition: 1st
• Format: Paperback
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publications

Summary

Every indiscretion has its price...Cassandra Willows has made a name for herself as one of London's most sought-after seamstresses-and as the creator of intimate "toys" much beloved in the bed chambers of elite ladies and lords. But her success cannot soothe her guilt and pain over a most devastating betrayal.Nathan Manning, Earl of Blackhearth, will never forgive the exquisite Cassandra for abandoning him without a word on the day they were to elope. Now he is back in London and hungry for revenge. Armed with scandalous, provocative memories, the handsome, vengeful nobleman blackmails his former lover into a most illicit affair...and reignites the raging fire that once consumed them both.But by losing themselves in the throes of erotic ecstasy reborn, Nathan and Cassandra are courting gravest danger-vulnerable to a past that threatens to destroy their lives and passion still; at risk from dark, unspoken secrets that are shockingly, perilously...taboo.

Excerpts

Taboo

Chapter One

The Earl of Blackhearth, Nathan Manning, had once considered the heat of a summer's day in India to be stifling. But now, after waiting in the parlor of his great aunt's London home for almost half an hour, surrounded by his mother and two younger sisters, he truly understood what it meant to be stifled. At this point, he would prefer July in India on the back of an unwashed elephant. Anything but this.

And yet he had no choice but to be back in England.

"Nathan, your aunt has been tittering all week about your visit," his mother said with a conspiratorial smile at his sisters, Adelaide and Lydia.

Nathan arched a brow and gave his mother a look that could not be misinterpreted. His aunt, Lady Worthington, was not a woman prone to "tittering" over anyone. And Nathan had clear memories of her once berating him quite savagely when he was a child. He had never been her favorite.

But when the prodigal son returned, it seemed he was remembered as everyone's favorite. Which was why he had been paraded around all week, giggled over, pinched, and basically treated like a piece of meat—rich meat that would soon set out to find a wife.

Before Nathan could answer his mother or she could react to his look, the door to the parlor opened and his aunt stepped inside. Nathan got to his feet to greet her. Just as he recalled, she was a tall, thin, stern woman with little light or joy in her expression.

Still, she spared the group with a small, tight smile before she said, "Do forgive me for making you wait. I was just finishing up with my seamstress. I shall return momentarily."

Nathan suppressed a yawn and turned away from the door to pace the small parlor. Outside, he heard his aunt speaking to someone, her strong voice coming in clear into the parlor.

"Thank you so much, Miss Willows, for your help. I much look forward to seeing the gown."

Nathan stopped pacing and lifted his head. Miss Willows? No, it couldn't be. It wasn't. There was no way it could be . . .

"You are more than welcome, Lady Worthington. I shall be certain your dress is ready long before the ball."

Nathan spun around, the voice of the other woman piercing into his body, penetrating his very soul. He found himself moving toward the door, almost against his will. When he reached the barrier, he stopped, peering into the foyer that was just a few feet away.

And there she was—Cassandra Willows. Just as he remembered her from four years earlier. Except more beautiful, if that was even humanly possible.

Her dark auburn hair was bound against the nape of her neck and little strands fell around her face. The face that had lost some of its innocent roundness, the fullness to her cheeks. Now it was quite slender, her pale skin luminescent, and the freckles he had fallen in love with were long gone.

And her dress. No longer did she look like the daughter of a middle-class merchant. Her clothing was the height of fashion, fitted perfectly to her full breasts, then sweeping down dramatically over her form.

Nathan opened his mouth, but found he had been rendered speechless as he stood staring at a woman he had not seen in four years—a woman whose voice he'd last heard telling him she loved him . . . right before she did not show up for their planned meeting. Right before she reneged on her agreement to run away to Gretna Green and threw him over for another man.

In that moment, there were so many emotions bombarding Nathan that he could scarce name or place them all. But two exploded to the forefront, making themselves known in powerful, almost equal measure.

The first was lust, a need that heated his blood to a surprising level and made his hands shake with a desire to reach out and cup the swell of those luscious breasts. He was startled by a powerful drive to feel this woman writhe beneath him in ultimate pleasure as he claimed her again and again.

The second was anger. Anger he had tried to tamp down and deny during his years away in India. It was a strong emotion he thought he'd mastered until this moment, when it washed over him in a wave that threatened to drown him. This woman had lied to him, betrayed him, and played him for a fool.

And for some reason, he still gave a damn about that fact, even after all this time.

"That sounds perfect, Miss Willows, I shall see you then," his aunt said with a smile that was far warmer than those she gifted to most people.

Cassandra opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped. She turned slightly, almost as if she sensed his stare burning through her clothing. Her gaze slipped to Nathan, standing in the doorway like a fool. The moment stretched out between them for what felt like an eternity, though in reality it was little more than a few seconds. All the blood left Cassandra's already pale cheeks, she swallowed hard and blinked a few times.

But then all the reaction was wiped clean from her expression. She returned her attention to Nathan's aunt. "Good afternoon, Lady Worthington."

Without so much as a second glance in his direction or a word of acknowledgment for his presence, Cassandra turned away and departed the house. Nathan could do nothing but stare at her retreating back until his aunt's servant shut the door behind her.

"Great God, Nathan, you look as though you've seen a ghost. Have I changed so much during your years in that savage country?" his aunt snapped, as she grasped his arm and almost dragged him back into her parlor."O-Of course not, Aunt Bethany," he stammered, finding his voice with much difficulty. "I was simply admiring your fine home."

Taboo. Copyright © by Jess Michaels. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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Excerpted from Taboo by Jess Michaels
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.