A Regency Courtesan's Pride: More Than a Mistress / The Rake's Inherited Courtesan

Why not take advantage of the chance that brought him into her house? a voice whispered in her mind. Why not? A night of pleasure they would both enjoy. It would only be one night. No ties. No obligations. No tit for tat.

She’d kept him at a distance this evening, despite the way her body hummed each time he came close. Was still humming with the after-effects of his kiss this afternoon. Oh Lord, and the pleasure of his touch last night.

In spite of her coldness toward him tonight, there was no doubt of his desire when he kissed her hand. She rubbed the back of her hand as if she could erase the feel of his lips against her skin.

Lust.

Unrequited passion.

What if he rejected her? But if she didn’t ask, how would she know?

Chapter Eight (#ulink_c9a7c552-3b19-538d-8202-4944c25f1808)

Tired! Hah! Charlie hadn’t felt less tired in his life.

Used to awakening in the smallest hours of the night, he always kept the candles alight to ward off the hated sensation of suffocation brought on by total darkness.

At home, when it got really bad, he’d go for a ride. His servants were used to his odd ways. But here, there would be questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.

He rarely had trouble falling asleep. Only when the dreams started did he feel the need for escape. Tonight was different. He tossed off the brandy he had poured. It added to the heat in his blood, increased the thud of his heart.

Desire for Merry.

An urgent pressing lust.

Never had he felt like this about a woman. Naked, with the fire almost dead, he didn’t feel the least bit cold. The vaguest thought of the woman had his blood running hot, had him rousing.

She’d certainly taken him by surprise this afternoon, asking him to pretend to be her betrothed. God, he’d like to pretend to be her husband.

His shaft jerked with pleasure at the thought. He could bring himself to release. A youth’s trick, something he’d given up long ago in favour of control. If a man couldn’t control his own base urges, what hope did he have of controlling his life? Or his bloody dreams?

He got up and strode to the window, thrusting back heavy brocade curtains glinting with gold bullion knots and twists. The cold permeating through the casement seared his overheated skin. He breathed in the smell of old wood and frost on the windowpane.

He placed his palm on the glass and thawed the ice.

The world outside looked ghostly. Snow glittered where the moon cast its path. Here and there, dark patches ruined the purity. A thaw well under way. Tomorrow he would leave.

Drive away from temptation.

Slowly, painfully slowly, his erection subsided, chilled by the cold air, or the thought of departure.

It didn’t matter which.

Sure he would now sleep, he let the curtain fall and returned to the bed. The candles had hours of life left. They would last until dawn.

Stretched out on top of the covers, he closed his eyes, kept his mind deliberately blank and breathed deeply.

A sound by the door.

A mere whisper of noise. His gut clenched.

Nothing. It was his mind playing tricks. He forced himself to ignore it, the way he had ignored far worse indignities after Waterloo. He would sleep. He must.

He resisted the urge to toss and turn. Forced his limbs to remain quiet and once more emptied his mind.

More rustling.

The bed sank in one corner.

Heart drumming, he shot upright, staring wide-eyed at the foot of his bed.

Merry? ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘I beg your pardon.’ God damn it, he was naked. He flipped the edge of the counterpane over his hips.

Her gaze remained on his face, but she must have seen, when she walked in, that he was stark naked. Once more, blood headed for his groin. Damn the woman. ‘What did you want?’

‘I couldn’t sleep.’

That made two of them. ‘So you thought you’d wake me to share in your lack of rest. Hand me my robe.’ It lay beside her across the foot of the bed.

She bit her lip and handed it to him. ‘I’m sorry.’ She slid off the bed and walked to the hearth, looking down at the fire, while he pulled the banyan around him.

She spun around as he finished tying the knot. ‘I did not intend to disturb you.’

Disturb. Hah! He couldn’t be more pleased. Or at least one part of him couldn’t. The rest of him wasn’t so sure. He waved off her apology. ‘How can I be of service?’ A bad choice of words. The low thrum in his blood had become a steady pounding beat. He could smell her, the scent of lavender and soap, and a woman fresh from her bed. He wanted to carry her to his. He wanted to lay her down amid his sheets. He wanted all she would give. But only if she gave it freely.

She looked at him, her head tilted on one side, her full lips parted. Lips he longed to take with his own. He clenched his jaw.

‘I came to apologise,’ she said and pressed those full lips together as if trying to decide what to say next. She clasped her hands at her waist. The firelight behind her shone through the flimsy nightgown and wrap. Outlined in the faint glow, her legs were long and slender, the dark triangle at their apex more imagined than seen. Black as night to match her hair, no doubt, and a delightful contrast to her pale skin.

His teeth ground together. He picked up a candle. ‘Let me escort you back to your room.’

She backed away, thankfully into the shadows beside the hearth. She looked nervous. ‘You cannot deny the attraction between us.’

The clenching of his groin anticipated what might come next, but at what price? ‘I won’t change my mind, Merry, whatever coin you use.’

She flinched. A mere flicker of an eyelash, a minute tightening of her jaw. He’d hurt her. He wanted to apologise and grant her wish. He couldn’t. It had taken all of his powers of persuasion to convince Father to let Robert return. One misstep and all would be ruined.

Yet she did not retire in defeat. It wasn’t in her to give up. Her gaze did not shift away. Instead her bright blue eyes held his gaze boldly. She licked her top lip, leaving it moist and pink. It held his attention as she spoke again.

‘It has nothing to do with’ she gestured vaguely with one hand ‘that. No one would believe you would offer for me anyway.’

Truth was a bitter brew. He wished she wasn’t right. But if she wasn’t here to convince him to follow her plan, then why had she come after her coolness this evening? A bubble of something light and airy restricted his breathing. Hope. Damn it. When he should really be turning her around and sending her out of the door, he nodded for her to go on.

‘I enjoyed our kiss today. I would like to repeat the experience.’

His groin gave a pulse of approval. Why not, indeed? The urge to say yes filled his throat.

He walked to the window, before the words left his mouth. Before he did something he’d regret. ‘You are a beautiful woman. I cannot deny I find you alluring, but I no longer believe the impression you gave me on my first night here. Or my conclusion this morning that you might be an abbess.’