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LENGTH: Epic Novel
SENSUALITY: Carnal

Cover art (c) Eliza Black 2006
ISBN 1-58608-931-5
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Trade Paperback ISBN 1-58608-844-0
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A woman of Victorian England teetering on the brink of sin...

Helen Rivenall is a woman bound to sin, according to her abusive uncle, but it is not until she finds herself drugged and auctioned off in a London brothel that Helen discovers a man who makes her believe that sin is a pleasure.

A man who values his iron-willed self-control...

The secrets of his past haunt Sebastian Rockwood, Earl of Melton, honing him into a man who values control above all else, but when he finds himself bidding on a woman in a private auction, he discovers even his iron will can not protect him from the ultimate obsession.

Rating: Contains graphic sexual content, adult situations, and explicit language.

OBSESSION

By

Monica Burns

© copyright July 2006, Monica Burns

Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright July 2006

ISBN Number 1-58608-931-5

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Chapter 1

London, 1888

The inside of Chantrel’s was quiet as a tomb as Sebastian Rockwood, Earl of Melton stepped through the establishment’s front door. Popular among men of the peerage, the exclusive brothel was known for its unique offerings. The sole proprietor of her establishment, Chantrel, trained her girls to speak and act like women of nobility, except in the bedroom. There, her pupils performed with an enthusiasm that was often lacking in the lives of most noblemen.

Sebastian handed his top hat and cane to the footman on duty as he asked to see the owner. As the servant hurried off, he turned to survey the empty parlor opening off the foyer. Why would the brothel be so quiet at this time of night? The man next to him cleared his throat.

“Bad business this, if what Caleb says is true,” said Devin Morehouse, Viscount Westbrook.

With a sharp nod of agreement at his friend’s observation, Sebastian frowned. The occasional mistress easily addressed his sexual needs, so his knowledge of Chantrel’s was by reputation only. In fact, the only reason he’d even agreed to visit the place tonight was to keep his younger brother from doing something rash.

Earlier this afternoon, in typical Rockwood fashion, Caleb had stormed into Sebastian’s office like a man possessed. Unlike his siblings, controlling his emotions was a skill Sebastian had learned a long time ago. He could only wish his siblings would do the same.

It had taken him more than a quarter of an hour to learn that Caleb’s ladylove had been missing for more than a day. From what little information his brother had provided him, the girl had uncovered evidence of brothels kidnapping innocent young women and selling them against their will.

“I doubt the girl is here,” he murmured. “But I truly believe Caleb would have torn this place apart if I hadn’t agreed to come this evening.

“Unlike his older brother’s controlled and methodical approach, of course.” Wry amusement threaded his friend’s words. Sebastian arched his eyebrow in response to the jibe.

“There’s a great deal to be said for exercising restraint in all matters.”

Looking around, he studied his surroundings closely. The silence in the brothel wasn’t just unusual, it made him uneasy. Something about this place set his teeth on edge, and for the first time since Caleb had burst into his study, he realized his brother’s worst fears might well be true. It was quite possible his brother’s ladylove was in grave danger. Leaning toward his friend, Sebastian tipped his head in the direction of the blue and gold salon adjacent to the foyer.

“I’m beginning to wonder if we’re even in a brothel given the selection is decidedly nonexistent.”

“I agree,” Devin nodded. “Usually a fellow can expect at least one or two ladies available for the unexpected customer. Is it possible the murder in Whitechapel yesterday is affecting business?”

Sebastian considered the possibility. Although the murder of the Nichols woman had been more brutal than most slayings, he wasn’t sure the incident would have been enough to threaten the daily business of a well-known brothel like Chantrel’s. If this were any other house of ill repute, he might think business was bad, but this wasn’t just any brothel. The exclusivity of it set the house apart from any other of its kind. There had to be another reason why the parlor was empty.

He shrugged as the sound of a door opening made him turn his head. A statuesque woman passed through the doorway. Sailing into the foyer, she presented the picture of a figurehead on a sailing ship. Swathed in red taffeta and gold fringe trim, the gown brazenly proclaimed her for the madame she was with its decadent sleeves and low cut bodice. The taffeta, draped artfully over her bustle, rustled softly as she moved toward them.

Madame Chantrel greeted them with a smile and a look of speculation in her eyes. “Lord Melton, you honor me with your presence. What may I do for you this evening?”

Sebastian bent over the hand she extended to him, his lips brushing the air over Chantrel’s knuckles. “My friend and I were hoping for some special entertainment this evening. Naturally, I thought of you and your ability to offer us something unusual ... different.”

As he straightened, he watched the woman’s face. Hesitation and avarice flitted across her features. Avarice won out as her eyes narrowed slightly. The hesitation was enough to increase his concerns. Damnation, if Caleb were correct, it would not be easy finding the girl or proving the brothel was involved in selling women against their will.

“Actually, my lord, we have a most unusual form of entertainment tonight.” Chantrel smoothed the tight fitting material swathed around her waist. “My guests this evening are my most frequent patrons, but there is always room for fine gentlemen such as the two of you. I think you both might find it amusing. Won’t you come this way?”

With a practiced sweep of her hand and the skill of any noblewoman, Chantrel ushered them into a large salon. Red and gold couches, divans and chairs littered the room, serving as seating for the twenty or more men lounging about. Dark cherry walls, trimmed with gold molding, gave the room a heavy, decadent air.

Studying the room’s occupants, Sebastian only recognized two or three men. The others were strangers to him. To his disgust, he noticed the Marquess of Templeton standing in one corner of the room. A notorious gambler and womanizer, the man’s luck was exceeded only by his bad temper.

The last time Sebastian had met the man, it had been across the card table. It had been a pleasurable experience--beating the man at cards--but he realized he’d also made an enemy. Templeton hated to lose.

“Templeton,” he muttered to Devin who stood at his side. “If he’s here, we can expect something perverted.”

The brothel owner had excused herself and moved to stand at the foot of a small dais shrouded by a burgundy velvet curtain. Clapping her hands, the woman smiled at her patrons.

“Gentlemen, my lords, if you please. I’m delighted you could join us this evening as we have something highly unusual and special for your enjoyment.” The woman turned and nodded her head at a tall, slender man standing at a nearby door who immediately tugged on a gold rope. A smile on her face, Chantrel turned back to the men in the room. “Tonight, I’d like to offer up for auction a delectable flower, ripe for the picking.”

As the brothel owner spoke, the curtain behind her slowly parted to reveal a woman seated on a gilded chair of immense proportions. A flowing, white silk chemise barely covered the woman’s lush body. To his surprise, Sebastian’s groin responded to the sight immediately.

Seated in the chair with her legs slanted to one side, her figure was luxuriant, exotic and tempting. The delicate chemise, deliberately cut to reveal a long expanse of leg, hinted of more treasures beneath. Even from a distance, the woman’s enticing legs looked soft as silk.

Red color heightened the fullness of her mouth, and it tugged at him, filling his head with images of her pleasuring him with those delectable lips. Lustrous locks the color of uncut wheat tumbled down over creamy shoulders in soft curls. The thought of entwining his hand in her hair, while his other hand traced the sensuous curve of her thigh, was more than just a pleasurable thought. It excited him. The prospect of being the first to introduce this siren to the decadent and erotic delights of sex was intoxicating. The thought made his cock stir like an unruly beast.

He swallowed hard. What the devil was wrong with him? He’d come here in search of Caleb’s ladylove, not to contemplate buying a woman. Despite reminding himself of his reasons for being in the brothel, it was impossible not to notice the succulent shape of her breasts.

Barely hidden by the transparency of her white chemise, her breasts were full, and his palm itched to cup them. The thought of suckling on those dusky peaks produced a knot in his throat, which he immediately tried to swallow. Damnation, he was hard as rock. It had been a long time since he’d been this aroused simply from looking at a woman.

Determined to regain control of his senses and libido, he focused his attention on the woman’s face. She reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t recall whom. Could this be Caleb’s woman? Mentally, he shook his head. No, his brother had described his sweetheart as having dark hair.

His gaze returned to the woman’s red, sensuous lips and the way they parted in such an inviting manner. The thought of tasting the sweetness of her mouth tightened the muscles in his groin. Just as quickly as the image flittered through his head, he knew the girl was far from willing. The seductive pout she wore was an illusion.

Revulsion, not enticement, gleamed in her wide green eyes. The repugnance in her gaze had to be the reason for her rapid breathing. Yet she didn’t try to escape. She simply sat on the dais’ throne with a mixture of panic, disgust and a blazing anger glowing in her luminous eyes.

“Who’ll start the bidding for one night with this rare creature, gentleman? Who will be the first to introduce her to the art of lovemaking? Do I hear a starting bid of one hundred pounds?”

“A hundred pounds,” a stout gentleman shouted.

“Two hundred,” another voice called out.

“Good God,” Devin growled beneath his breath. “Caleb was right about the auctions. Now what in the hell do we do?”

Sebastian’s stomach knotted with disgust. The disgust in Devin’s voice matched his own inner turmoil. Thank God, he’d convinced Caleb to let him investigate the matter. The moment this auction had started, his brother would have begun tearing the place apart without any thought to his safety or the girl’s.

Somehow, he needed to discover whether Chantrel had already auctioned off the girl or if she was even in the brothel. Either way, they needed information before they did anything. If the girl was still here, she could easily be spirited away. Should Chantrel suspect someone was about to expose her illegal, yet lucrative, side business, she would remove any incriminating evidence.

Chantrel wouldn’t be the first madame to hold a woman prisoner and sell her to the highest bidder. However, the laws had changed, and this type of crime carried a stiff penalty. Was Chantrel involved with other brothels in this scheme or was she practicing this unsavory business alone? And the woman? His gaze returned to the tempting vision in white. What was her story?

“Five hundred pounds.” Lust and something else filled Lord Templeton’s voice. Sebastian turned his head to study the man’s salacious expression. The marquess licked his lips in a lascivious manner. Sebastian had never cared for the man, and now he understood why. There was something malevolent about Templeton.

Beside him, Devin shook his head in disgust as the bidding continued. “I’ve seen enough. I’m leaving.”

Sebastian didn’t answer as Templeton raised the stakes one more time over another bidder. The way the bidding was going, the Marquess would soon add another filly to his debauched stable of women. His gaze returned to woman on the dais. Something about her tugged at him--prevented him from leaving. How could he possibly leave here without saving her from a fate worse than death?

Templeton’s reputation for sordid sexual acts was well known. The image of her at the Marquess’ mercy twisted his insides. He was certain he’d feel this way if it was any other woman on the dais. The voice to the contrary was quickly silenced.

“A thousand pounds.” The Marquess’ bid drew a gasp from the men, and the room went silent.

“One thousand pounds, gentlemen. I have one thousand pounds to Lord Templeton. Do I have any other bidders? One thousand going once, twice--”

“Two thousand.”

Sebastian couldn’t believe his ears. He’d actually placed a bid on the woman. Had he lost his mind? The back of his neck tingled with the weight of censorious eyes. He didn’t have to turn around to know what his friend thought about his behavior. If anyone was astounded, it was he.

Tightening his mouth, he slid a glance toward Templeton. The man was livid. So he’d managed to unbalance the marquess. He smiled, savoring the pleasurable sensation. Chantrel, extremely pleased by this new competition, smiled broadly at Sebastian.

“Two thousand pounds to Lord Melton, do I hear any other bids? Going once, going twice--”

“Three thousand,” Templeton snarled.

“Five.” Sebastian didn’t hesitate. Silence filled the room, and he slowly turned his head toward the marquess. The other man’s face was beet red with fury. Sebastian studied him in silence, taking care to keep his own features impassive. Templeton shook his head at Chantrel.

“I have five thousand, do I hear more? Going once, going twice, sold to Lord Melton for five thousand pounds.”

The room erupted into a loud frenzy of conversation. At his side, Devin hissed. “For God’s sake, Sebastian. Do you realize what you’ve just done?”

“Yes.”

Devin stared at him in open mouth astonishment, but Sebastian turned away to watch Chantrel approach. Steeling himself for the matter at hand, he bowed as she stopped in front of him.

“My lord, you surprise me. I expected Helen to enchant everyone, but for you to pay so much for her, I never would have guessed it.”

Studying Chantrel’s jaded features he frowned. Something about her reminded him of a well-fed cat expecting to indulge in consuming the mouse once it finished playing with the creature. Forcing himself to smile, he bowed. “Might we discuss our business arrangement in private?”

“But of course, my lord.” The woman laughed, her eyes gleaming with calculation. With a grim smile, he followed her out of the salon. As they walked down a narrow hallway, the train of her gown forced him to stay at least three feet behind her. Entering a private office, he took a seat as Chantrel skirted a large oak desk to sit before him. The room’s lack of ornamentation reminded him this was the seedier side of the business.

“Now then, my lord, shall we discuss the matter of payment?”

“Of course, I believe the bid was five thousand?”

“Yes, my lord, and I know you’ll find it money well spent.”

“I’m sure.” He nodded with derision. “Naturally, you’ll allow me to pay another thousand to take the creature off your hands permanently.”

The brothel owner started violently, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not sure I understand, my lord. The auction was for one night with Helen and nothing more.”

“Of course, but no doubt you’re an astute businesswoman, Chantrel. I’m sure you’ll agree that for an additional one thousand pounds, you’ll give--Helen did you say--into my care permanently. I’d hate to see you lose any money over such a lucrative transaction as this.”

“I’m not sure how I could possibly lose any money, my lord.”

“Don’t you? I’m certain a business such as yours relies heavily on the discretion of its clientele when it comes to special events.” Sebastian flicked an imaginary piece of lint from the black broadcloth of his jacket before sending the woman a hard look. “It would be a tragedy if one of your patrons disclosed unsavory information to the authorities.”

He looked up to see the woman glaring at him, but there was a hint of fear in her eyes as well. When she didn’t respond, he pulled a wallet from inside his jacket. Removing a calling card, he leaned forward and picked up the fountain pen on Chantrel’s desk. With fluid strokes, he wrote his marker on the back of the card and slid it across the desktop toward her.

“Have Helen and all her possessions placed in my carriage immediately.” He rose to his feet and headed toward the door.

“It appears you leave me with little choice, my lord.” Chantrel snapped.

Ignoring the woman’s bitterness he left the office, the door closing quietly behind him. He moved down the corridor to the front hall at a furious pace. He was acting completely out of character tonight. What was he thinking to buy a woman like a prize mare? Reaching the foyer, he snapped his fingers at a nearby footman and demanded his overcoat. As the servant scurried away, Devin emerged from the salon, his face grim.

“So have you settled your account?” Devin sent him a look of disgusted disappointment.

“Yes.” Sebastian nodded. He chafed at the expression on his friend’s face. It wasn’t as if he intended to bed his expensive purchase. Although the tantalizing thought had definitely presented itself.

“What the hell were you thinking to bid on the woman like that?”

“I couldn’t bloody well let Templeton have her, could I?” Sebastian shot a glare in the direction of his friend. Retrieving his favorite watch from his vest pocket, he examined the face of the timepiece then snapped it closed.

“But what happens to her after tonight? In case you didn’t hear Chantrel, the auction was for only one night with the woman.”

Ignoring his friend’s grim disapproval, Sebastian accepted his hat, cane and gloves from the footman. “The auction might have been for one night, but I bought her freedom.”

His friend stared at him with his mouth agape. Somehow, Devin’s stupor rankled deeper than he thought possible. Did people really think him devoid of compassion? Simply because he was meticulous and methodical didn’t mean he couldn’t feel sympathy for those in need. In all good conscience, he couldn’t have just left the woman for Templeton.

Angry, he scowled at his friend and the footman who was curiously watching their exchange. His behavior in the past hour had been irrational and impulsive--the exact opposite to his usual manner. It was infuriating.

“And now that you’ve bought her freedom, what to you intend to do with her? You can’t just throw her out onto the street,” Devin snapped.

“Damn it, man, I might prefer to live my life without the galling encumbrances of a wife, but I’m not completely without sympathy for the woman’s situation.” He tugged his white evening gloves on in a deliberate fashion and kept his eyes averted. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must see to my prize. Although heaven knows what I’ve gotten myself into.”

The last part of his statement he muttered beneath his breath as he strode out the front entrance of the brothel and down the steps to pace the sidewalk as he waited on his carriage. Damnation. What had he been thinking when he’d bid on the woman?

Templeton. He’d been thinking about how pleasurable it would be to steal the man’s prize out from under his nose. And it was quite understandable why the Marquess had wanted the woman. Images of a voluptuous thigh and full breasts teased his thoughts. God almighty. Had he really bought the woman out of pity or was it because he wanted to rut with her. His body tensed at the erotic images darting through his head. Suppressing a groan, he tried to think about where he could send the woman. A place where she’d have the opportunity to make a respectable living.

The sound of his shoes scraping against the stone walkway grated on him, much in the way the entire day had. Attending to the woman’s needs was the first order of business, then he had to formulate some type of plan to see if Chantrel was holding Caleb’s ladylove hostage. Heaving a sigh, he frowned as the face of the woman he’d just bought filled his head. There was something very familiar about her. Where had he seen her before? He shrugged with exasperation. It would come to him eventually.

His pacing ceased at the sound of carriage wheels rumbling over cobblestone. What had happened to the self-control he prided himself on? The rest of the Rockwoods were habitual in their irrational behavior, but not him. Not since childhood, had he succumbed to such illogical or unexpected deportment. Behind him, he heard Devin leaving the establishment. The memory of his friend’s censure still stung as the man stopped at his side.

“Sebastian, I apologize for doubting your intentions. You did right by the woman.”

“Perhaps,” he replied gruffly without looking at his friend. “Then again, perhaps not. We both know what sort of man I am, Devin. I’ve never had much patience with women, and I’m too old to start now.”

“Good God, Sebastian.” Devin laughed. “You’re only thirty. Hardly a doddering old man.”

Far from feeling humorous about his present situation, he opened the door of his carriage as it halted in front of him.

“Then why the hell do I feel so Goddamn old?” He choked out with restrained frustration. “I’m not equipped to deal with a female guaranteed to wilt at the sound of my voice.”

Without waiting for an answer, he climbed into the vehicle and threw himself onto the padded leather seat. Across from him sat his high-priced acquisition. He barely cast a glance in her direction before staring out the window. What in the blue blazes was he going to do with her?

He sighed wearily and closed his eyes. With the addition of the woman to his household, his schedule would be in shambles tomorrow. He’d somehow have to see to her clothing, determine what skills she possessed and then seek possible employment for her. Why the devil hadn’t he just contacted the police? Then the woman would be someone else’s problem. The answer irritated him. He didn’t want her to be someone else’s problem. For some strange reason, he wanted to protect her.

Furious with himself, he clenched his jaw. It was quite simple, he was mad with lust. The woman had teased his senses and he’d had no choice but to buy her. But now he was in his right mind again. He swung his gaze back to the woman opposite him. A veil obscured her features, and it made her even more enticing.

She hadn’t moved since he’d climbed into the carriage. Come to think of it, she’d not even uttered a sound. What was wrong with her? Something inside him stirred. He wanted to see that succulent figure of hers again. See those wide green eyes. See if she truly was worth the five thousand--no, six thousand pounds he’d paid. After all, forbidden fruit always stimulated the senses.

“Lift your veil,” he said in a tight voice. She didn’t move. Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek. The woman wasn’t going to make things easy for him, was she? Didn’t she realize he was trying to help her? “Damn it, woman. I want to see what my money bought me.”

Still she didn’t stir. She could have been a statue if not for the soft flutter of her veil as she breathed. Outside, the clouds parted and moonlight suddenly streamed through the carriage window. The cape she wore had fallen open to reveal her voluptuous curves, and he sucked in a sharp breath as the glow of the moon poured over her.

Up close, her body was every bit as sensuous as he’d imagined. His gaze lingered on the rose-colored tips of her breasts. They were stiff beneath the sheer fabric, and his fingers itched to touch her. Would those delicious nipples taste hot against his tongue? Tasting her right now would give him more pleasure than he’d had in a long time. Far too long. It had been months since he’d parted with his last mistress. That’s why this woman had captured his interest. She intrigued him. Tempted him. Christ Jesus, how she tempted him.

Just the sight of her wearing next to nothing made him rock hard. His gaze dropped to the dark triangle of hair peeking through the sheer white fabric of her chemise, just at the apex of her thighs. The thought of filling her with his cock made his mouth go dry. He wanted her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman as badly as he wanted this one. Mesmerized by the erotic visions flashing through his head, his hand stretched out toward her.