Selfish Is the Heart Read online

  Selfish Is the Heart

  Megan Hart

  Published: 2010

  Rating: ****

  Tags: Man-woman relationships, Fiction, Romance, General, Paranormal, Fantasy fiction, Forced marriage, Erotic fiction

  Product Description

  The national bestselling author of No Greater Pleasure delivers a new novel featuring a reluctant student of seduction.

  To escape an arranged marriage, Annalise Marony decides to become a Handmaiden of the Order of Solace. But she is thwarted at every turn by Cassian, a teacher of the faith, who must test her dedication. Older than most of the girls, Annalise knows that she will be expected to please a patron in pleasures of the flesh-and she is not shy about teasing Cassian. And as they both play out the game of master and student, the secrets in their souls will either tear them apart-or bind them together forever.

  About the Author

  Megan Hart is the bestselling author of several erotic novels and e-books. She lives in Pennsylvania with her family.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Praise for Megan Hart and her novels

  “Ms. Hart is a master . . . I am absolutely in love with [her] writing and she remains on my auto-buy list. Take my advice and add her to yours!”

  —Ecataromance

  “Megan Hart is one of my favorite authors . . . The sex is hot and steamy, the emotions are real, and the characters easy to identify with. I highly recommend all of Megan Hart’s books!”

  —The Best Reviews

  “Terrific erotic romance.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Unique . . . Fantastic.”

  —Sensual Romance

  “Megan Hart is easily one of the more mature, talented voices I’ve encountered in the recent erotica boom. Deep, thought provoking, and heart wrenching.”

  —The Romance Reader

  “Probably the most realistic erotic romance I’ve ever read . . . I wasn’t ready for the story to end.”

  —A Romance Review

  “Sexy, romantic.” —Road to Romance

  “Megan Hart completely wowed me! I never read an erotic book that, aside from the explicit sex, is [also] an emotionally powerful story.”

  —Romance Reader at Heart

  “Uplifting . . . Fascinating worldbuilding.”

  —Dear Author

  “Enjoyable erotic romances . . . Strong characters and intriguing . . . plots.”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  Berkley Sensation titles by Megan Hart

  PLEASURE AND PURPOSE

  NO GREATER PLEASURE

  SELFISH IS THE HEART

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,

  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2010 by Megan Hart.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / October 2010

  eISBN : 978-1-101-44393-4

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Hart, Megan.

  Selfish is the heart / Megan Hart.—Berkley Sensation trade pbk. ed. p. cm.

  I. Title.

  PS3608.A7865S45 2010

  813’.6—dc22

  2010027177

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  Once more for my family

  Another time for friends

  And of course to Superman,

  who always tells me I can do it, no matter what it is

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks must go to the artists who provided me with the music I listened to while writing this book. I could write without music, but I’m so glad I don’t have to. Please support their work through legal means.

  Little Fox—Heidi Berry

  Look After You—The Fray

  Come Here Boy—Imogen Heap

  You’ve Been Loved—Joseph Arthur

  Labor of Love—Michael Giacchino

  Night Minds—Missy Higgins

  And extra-special thanks must go out to Mick Lynch and Kevin May, The Guggenheim Grotto, whose song Lost Forever made me weep every single day for months in a row and was the one that most contributed to this novel. Thanks, guys—you’re just as lovely in person as you are streaming from my iPod.

  Chapter 1

  If I didn’t care for you so greatly, cousin, I’d surely hate you.” Caterina Marony turned from Annalise’s bedroom window to stare at her cousin. “You’ll be next.”

  Annalise, who’d not yet bothered to dress in the formal gown she’d be wearing to her sister’s wedding, gave Caterina an uninterested grunt and bent back to the task of lacquering her fingernails. “After six weddings, my parents are hardly in any position to provide me with the sort of splendor in yonder garden. If Allorisa’s betrothed was not wealthy enough, and besotted enough, to provide my sister with the finest party she could ever hope for, they’d be stuck having tea sandwiches and cordial, the same as I expect to suffer.”

  Caterina, Annalise’s junior by but a year, frowned and let the lace curtain fall over the glass. She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not the party that matters, Annalise. It’s the marriage.”

  Annalise blew on her
nails to dry them. “Surely you still cannot envy me my marriage if that’s what you truly think. Not when you know as well as I that it’s an arrangement, not a union of passion.”

  Caterina’s gaze flickered. “But surely Jacquin will be a fine lover. He’s so handsome, and . . .”

  “A flirt? Yes, cousin, I’m well aware of my betrothed’s charms.” Yawning, Annalise got off the bed and went to the ewer and basin to bathe her face. The garden would be insufferably hot, worse even than this garret room, which was cooled only by an ingenious arrangement of vents and the windows that prevented direct sunlight from getting in to heat the room. The water was warm but better than nothing, and she dampened a cloth to press to the back of her neck while she made the rest of her toilette.

  “He is most sincerely charming,” Caterina said.

  “Jacquin,” Annalise replied without looking at her cousin, “has a fine cock and knows how to use it, which is not exactly the same as being a fine lover.”

  Caterina giggled and gasped, and Annalise threw her a sharp look. “What? The use of such frank language has scarcely teased you so, before.”

  Caterina fussed with Annalise’s small jewel cask, mostly empty but for a few good costume pieces. “Oh, well. Perhaps I played at worldliness before.”

  “And now you play at modesty?”

  Caterina looked up at that. “I can still envy you your future place, cousin. It’s especially worth envy when I have no prospects for a ring of my own.”

  Hearing her cousin’s wistful tone, Annalise couldn’t find it within herself to tease. Instead, she hugged the other woman quickly. “You’ve had scads of suitors, Cat.”

  “And my parents don’t approve of any of them!”

  Annalise linked her arm around her cousin’s waist and studied their reflections in the looking glass atop her dresser. Caterina was tiny and dark, with a slim waist and flat bosom, slim hips of a perfect span. Her figure was fashionable, just right for the current high-waisted gowns and straight skirts. In comparison, Annalise had high, full breasts, long legs, and ample hips less perfectly suited to the day’s current style. Not that she’d ever had complaints. She’d had half a dozen lovers, and not a one had been anything but eager to sample her lushness in dress or out of it.

  “Your father simply isn’t ready to let you go, that’s all,” Annalise said. “Whereas mine is probably leaping in the air with joy to be rid of the last of his daughters.”

  Cat grimaced and turned her face from side to side, letting her dark curls tumble over her shoulders. “Even so, I’d far rather have someone waiting for my hand than look ahead to a future empty of a husband.”

  “Your future isn’t empty. It can’t be. Look at you, that beauty.”

  “If it were only beauty that brought me a husband, I’d have no worries!”

  “Ah, well, it was scarcely my face that brought me the offer from Jacquin, as you well know. It was our fathers’ doing more than ours.” Annalise laughed. “Not, mind you, that I’m complaining. I’ve ever found Jacquin’s company to be most merry, and if our fathers feel it will benefit the family businesses to join, well . . .”

  Well, then at least she would be wed and need no longer worry about it.

  Cat snorted lightly and looked away from Annalise. “You’d better get dressed. I hear the bells of the Temple priests’ carriage, and you know your mother will wish you to be there to greet them.”

  Annalise sighed. “I suppose I should, else she work herself into a frenzy. Though why my presence is required for the blessing I don’t know. And why, by the Void, did my sister believe velvet was a smart choice for a midsummer wedding? I shall expire of the heat before they’ve even said half their vows.”

  “At least she asked you to stand beside her.”

  Annalise rolled her eyes. “Dear, sweet, Cat. You know the only reason my sister has me as her maid is because my mother insisted, and our next closest sister is too fully with child to be expected to stand up with Allorisa. And the others must come from too far a distance for her to demand their service the way she can of me.”

  Cat laughed softly. “And you have such a natural inclination toward service, cousin . . .”

  Annalise threw a damp cloth at the other woman, who ducked it, laughing. “I do it for the sake of my sister’s betrothed, who will have to spend the rest of his years soothing her temper. There’s no need for me to tease her into further fury when the wedding itself has sent her into a froth.”

  From outside in the garden, the toll of bells grew louder. The priests had arrived. Annalise could hear her mother’s chatter even through the glass.

  “Come, Cat. Help me into this Void-begotten gown and tidy my hair. I must go stand beside my sister and make certain she doesn’t do something frivolous.”

  “Like faint?”

  “Or run away,” Annalise said with a lift of her brow. “Though what a merry scandal that would be!”

  And another of the stairsteps has found her way to wedded bliss,” Jacquin Kirkol whispered into Annalise’s ear, knowing how it would tickle and make her squirm.

  His fingers tightened on her hip. To anyone watching they would seem quite the happy pair, Annalise thought as his hot breath and the tip of his tongue on her lobe sent a shiver throughout her. Jacquin had been teasing her for the past hour or so as the endless wedding customs her sister had insisted on spun out the day.

  “Just one more dance,” he murmured. “And then you’re free, yes?”

  Annalise turned her face just barely to look at him. “You know I’m standing as her maid. I must attend her for the entire party.”

  “Ludicrous.” Jacquin nipped at her neck so swiftly only someone staring at them would see it.

  “Custom,” Annalise sighed and poked him in the side. “Cease to pitch this woo with me, sirrah, I’ve no time for lovemaking today.”

  Jacquin pulled away with a pout that did nothing to sour his pretty face. “Bother. I might as well go home to Alyria and spend the days before our marriage tied tight in the chains of chastity.”

  Annalise, her eyes on her sister, who would require food and drink soon if she meant to keep dancing with every party guest without falling over, poked him again. Hard. “Hush, you. I know for a fact you came as your grandmother’s escort and for the sake of trade, not for the mere pleasure of seeing me.”

  The music slowed, the dance close to ending. Annalise made to move toward Allorisa, who didn’t look like she wanted to stop dancing, even though her face gleamed with heat and she’d made her way through every partner but for her newly bound husband. Jacquin arrested Annalise with a hand on her elbow, holding her tight. With the shield of her skirts and a turn of his body to keep most anyone from seeing, he pressed his groin to hers.

  Her breath caught and she looked into his eyes. Jacquin had been a guest of her family’s near to every summer since they were both children. He’d ever been fond of kissing and petting her, but as the months drew closer to their impending marriage, he’d grown more insistent about proving his affections to her. Annalise had no issue with this, as she’d long ago relinquished the prize of her virginity and had made no secret to him about it. What was consistently more frustrating was that Jacquin often made much of an effort at wooing her, but very little at actually fucking her.

  “I must attend my sister,” Annalise said through half-parted lips and laughed at his entirely too dramatic groan of frustration. “Surely you cannot expect me to slip away from all of this to service you?”

  Jacquin laughed and kissed her cheek. “You, my darling, are a tauntress.”

  “I could say the same of you.”

  There were a bare few moments before the dance ended. Already Annalise felt the pull of expectation, of what was required. Of service anticipated. The weight of it slouched her shoulders and turned down the corners of her mouth. She could not wait for this day to end so she need no longer dance at anyone else’s whim.

  Allorisa looked as though she never wanted
the day to end. Annalise could scarcely blame her sister, who’d not inherited their mother’s winsome grace or their father’s casual charm, nor any of their shared attractive features. Of all the sisters, Risa was the most like their grandfather in appearance, and though Grandda was a formidable, well-liked gentleman, his face sat rather better on his shoulders than on a young woman’s. Even so, she had a lush figure and lively eyes and was as bright as a new-minted coin—but coupled with a determined disposition and no seeming ability to temper it, her intelligence had kept away suitors by the dozen. The fact that she was the sixth of seven daughters didn’t help, for it meant her dowry was nothing to brag upon. Not that her own was anything to brag upon, Annalise thought as she waited for her sister to finish a last whirl around the slate patio laid especially for this day. But at least Annalise was ebon-haired and dusky cheeked, with a merry sense of humor. At least she had that.

  “Annalise, I’m thirsty,” Allorisa complained the moment her partner had bowed and left her. “By the Mother, the sun has fair roasted me!”

  “Come, sister, and sit in the shade while I bring you something to drink.” Annalise took Risa’s arm and led her to the bride’s bower, hung with expensive, out-of-season flowers and ivy that cast shadows, if not coolness. “Your husband has nearly finished his dancing, as well. He’ll be along soon, I’m sure, and then we’ll have the feast.”

  “I think I know the course of events at my own wedding party.” Allorisa took the mug of chilled grape wine Annalise handed her. She quaffed it back and returned the mug. Her eyes flashed and softened. “Thank you.”

  “It’s hot,” Annalise said with a shrug, as though that made a difference in her sister’s disposition, when they both knew quite well it did not. “I’m fair roasted myself in this velvet.”