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

He sat down in the chair opposite the desk. His jaw set in a stubborn line. ‘Yes. You do.’

She squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Do you know what they will think if you run around town standing up for me? They will think I am your mistress.’

His dark eyes gleamed, but his face remained deadly serious. ‘After last night, you are.’

‘Well, it won’t matter what you say in that case. They will listen politely and once you leave they will do as they wish. As my my

‘Lover,’ he said, raising a brow.

‘Very well. As my lover, you will have no influence at all. And my reputation will be ruined into the bargain. I have to deal with these men every day. I need their respect. This will only garner ridicule.’

He leaned back in the chair, kicked out his legs and folded his arms across his chest. ‘Not if I pose as your fiancé.’

She stared at him. ‘Why? You were vehemently opposed to this idea barely a few hours ago.’

‘I won’t leave you to face this alone. It wouldn’t be right.’

She blushed. ‘You owe me nothing. No. I don’t need your help. Caro and I can manage this for ourselves.’

He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Your choices are fiancé or lover. Either way I will speak to them today.’

Blackmail. Brass makes t’wheels turn. Only he didn’t lack for money, and, unless she was completely deranged, he still wanted her.

‘It’s a mickle for a muckle, then,’ she said.

He stared at her blankly.

‘Is’t not plain as the nose on your face? I’ll be your mistress while you play the fiancé. ‘Tis a fair bargain and when it is done, there’s no obligation on either side.’

His eyes flashed. ‘There you are with the outrageous statements in that dialect again. I’m not looking for damned payment. What kind of man do you think I am?’

She glared at him. ‘What? Is it beneath you to make an honest bargain? Smell too much of the shop?’

A blank look crossed his face. He took a deep breath. ‘It’s a matter of honour, Merry. Surely you understand?’

Unfortunately she did. A man who thought his honour was at stake would never give in. Her heartbeat quickened. Her pulse raced. The thought of him remaining here for days, no doubt. The temptation of having him close by.

Caro would be furious.

She glared at him. ‘You said you were in Yorkshire on business. I suggest you continue on your way.’

A dark brow flicked up. ‘Suggest all you want, I am speaking to these men and that is final.’

He meant it. This man was as stubborn as she was. And if he succeeded, she would be beholden to him. Every good turn deserves a reward. Asking him to tie his name to hers deserved a far greater reward than one night in her bed.

‘And you won’t accept payment.’

A muscle flickered in his jaw. Anger. Pride. Well, she had her pride, too.

‘But you won’t turn me away if I come to your bed of my own free will.’

He closed his eyes briefly as if he battled demons of his own.

She half-expected him to back down. The other half waited desperately for his answer. Because if he rejected this offer, she would know he despised her indeed and his offer of help was out of the question.

A long sigh escaped him. ‘No, I would not turn you away if you came to me of your own free will. I’m damned well not made of stone.’

She let go a breath of her own. She’d actually been holding it while she waited for his answer. ‘Then we have a bargain.’

Dear God, what would Caro say? She’d be angry, and disappointed, but she’d have to admit, eventually, it was the best solution. She’d have to forgive her, eventually.

Her insides trembled. He was staying. He would be hers tonight and tomorrow and into the future. The pen dropped from fingers weak at the thought of nights in his arms.

He leaned forwards, elbows on his knees, gazing at her intently. ‘Now that is settled, let us start with who you think might have tried to damage your carriage.’

Merry could quite happily drown in those dark brown eyes.

Concentrate, Merry. She shook her head. ‘I’ve gone over and over it in my mind. I know some of the mill owners and clothiers hate dealing with a woman, but they were Grandfather’s good friends. I can’t believe any of them would do me harm.’

‘Businessmen are notoriously ruthless,’ he said reasonably.

She rose to her feet. ‘But they are not murderers. I won’t believe it. I’ve known these men all my life.’

He held out a hand. She walked around the desk and took it, feeling its strength. He enclosed her hand in warmth. ‘You can’t let soft emotions cloud your thinking.’

‘I’m not one of your sentimental women who doesn’t know about harsh realities.’ She pulled at her hand. He gave it a tug and somehow she ended up sitting on his knee, enfolded in his arm, resting against his chest. It was so easy to lean against him.

He placed a warm hand on her thigh. His heat scorched her leg through the wool. ‘Merry, listen to me. Someone tried to kill you, no matter how you look at it.’

‘But why? I’ve done no one any harm.’

A finger toyed with the fine hairs at her nape. A shiver ran through her, not cold, searing hot. Her insides turned to liquid.

His voice was a gentle murmur when he spoke as if he, too, felt the rise of passion. ‘Let us think it through together. What is the reason behind their dislike of the asylum you established? It is not unusual for towns to help those less fortunate. Indeed, every parish is obliged to help their poor.’

‘It might be their wives egging them on. Because of the kind of women we sought to help.’

‘Ah,’ he said.

‘What do you mean, “Ah!”?’ Indignant, she pulled away.

He hauled her back against his chest. His chuckle vibrated against her shoulder. ‘Nothing like an angry woman to move a man to action.’

His hand caressed the underside of her breast. Oh, heaven help her, was that his his erection against her thigh? Desire flooded through her. She turned her face up. His dark eyes were glimmering with light, yet his expression contained concern. For her. As if he cared.

The door burst open.

Merry tried to jump to her feet. She found herself restrained as she looked into the startled face of her manager. ‘Mr Prentice?’