Reckless Rakes: Hayden Islington

“I remembered for you.” Logan corrected.

Hayden grinned. “Same thing. That’s why I keep you around.” he joked. “You’re the brains behind this operation and I know it well.” Ice racing had been his idea but it had been Logan who knew how to sell it, how to turn it into a profit-making venture and it had been Logan who created this notorious celebrity of his that allowed him to strike out on his own and break free of his past.

“Does that mean you want to see her?” Logan asked sotto voce as they neared the group of businessmen gathered outside the tavern door. There would be warm drinks, plentiful food and a private parlor waiting beyond that door, all for the chance to meet him and discuss possibilities.

“Yes, after I finish with the merchants. Give me an hour.” There was no time to say more. Logan drew him forward with a flourish and the voice of a showman.

“Gentlemen, I give you the champion of Lake Kendal, Mr. Hayden Islington.” There was applause and back slapping. He caught the phrase, ‘What a jump!’ as they ushered him inside and put a liberally rummed hot toddy in his hand. Miss This Afternoon would be here later, his belly would be filled, and his purse was full. Oh yes, it was good to be him.

An hour later, on cue, Logan slipped into the parlor and moved the discussion to its close. “I’m sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but Mr. Islington has other business to see to today. However, if you’d like to continue your discussion with me, I can assist you but Mr. Islington is needed next door.”

It was all very skillfully done. Logan was a master of tact. The men were in high spirits and eager to get a contract inked. He said his goodbyes and let Logan whisk him to the parlor next door, not that he’d be there long. He’d be taking Miss This Afternoon up to his chamber and he’d be there until supper. He could think of worse ways to spend a cold winter afternoon.

Hayden stepped inside the parlor behind Logan and came to an abrupt halt. Whoa! Miss This Afternoon was stunning. Not only could he think of worse ways, he could think of worse people to spend it with. Red hair indeed! Logan’s description had not done her justice. It was more like the shade of rich red chestnut, a perfect match to the horse that had gone down on the ice, a silky combination of caramel and russet that begged a man’s hand to sink into its lustrous depths.

She stood in profile to them, warming her hands at the fire and showing off other parts that begged a man’s hand too, starting with those breasts. High and firm in the well-tailored carriage ensemble, they would fill a man’s hands nicely — particularly his. The elegantly-done jacket nipped in at her waist showing off a trim figure and reminding a man how neatly his hand would rest at the curve of her hip. Lucifer’s balls, there were a lot of things his hands might do with that body!

The cynic in him, who understood sex was a game like any other, wondered if she hadn’t planned it that way? Logan had only an hour to track her down and confirm the meeting. Yet she was already here; her outerwear, a warm-looking fur-trimmed cloak of brown velvet, already removed and laying on a chair with her gloves on the small table beside it. She’d wasted no time making herself at home in the parlor. Surely a woman of her looks was not unaware of them or of how she might best engineer a scene to provoke a certain male response?

Hayden’s gaze lit on her face and all thoughts stopped right there. The sharp green eyes that met his suggested she knew exactly what was going through his head and she did not approve. He also had the distinct feeling Miss This Afternoon would not swoon over blown kisses, which only fueled an entirely male stab of desire all the more. What man didn’t want what he couldn’t have? But that wasn’t quite true was it? He was Hayden Islington, ice racer extraordinaire, lover nonpareil. He could have her. He merely had to apply himself.

Hayden gave her a confident grin. She might set herself up to be something of a challenge, but she was here all the same. Challenge or not, the conclusion was foregone, and what a lovely conclusion it would be to peel that carriage ensemble from her luscious form, to caress those breasts, to trace the curve of her hip, to test in practice with his body, what his mind already knew in theory; she would be delicious in bed. Hayden looked about the parlor taking in the possibilities; Or on a table, up against a door, with her back flat on the floor. This was starting to sound like a bad rhyme from the schoolroom, the kind tutors used to drill prepositions into their pupils’ heads. Still, if his tutor had taught grammar that way, he might have remembered it better.

“Hayden, this is Miss Jenna Priess.” Logan was making introductions. Hayden dragged his thoughts away from erotic school lessons designed to keep adolescent boys’ interest. He would have been one hell of a schoolmaster. But that wasn’t the point just now. He needed to pay attention. It wouldn’t do to forget her name so soon after hearing it.

Hayden bent over her hand, a very well-kept hand with perfect rounded nails, he noted; his eyes careful never to leave hers while his lips made contact with her knuckles. “Miss Priess, Jenna, how do you do?”

“I’m quite well.” Her tone was as formal as her eyes were sharp. Just now, those sharp eyes flicked over the length of his body ever so subtly he might have imagined it. But then, he was Hayden Islington. He knew when a woman was looking him over. There was no doubt Miss Priess had definitely just perused his form. And, he might add, she had done so in a manner that spoke of some experience and skill in the art of the discreet scan.

She was taking his measure, quite literally. It had been awhile since a woman had bothered. Most of them had already decided he’d pass muster before they even met. Reputations were handy things that way. She pulled her hand away with the slightest of tugs and he let her. She could feign indifference all she wanted with that haughty tone of hers but he’d caught her at her wicked little game and he knew better. “Is everything to your liking?”

Her fabulous eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her posture stiffened at the reprimand or perhaps at the insinuation behind it. To her credit, her gaze never wavered in embarrassment or in acknowledgement of having been found out. “I’ve come to offer you a proposal.”

Hayden flashed her a grin. “Is that so?” He let his eyes roam her form, deliberately copying her actions. This was becoming more interesting by the moment. “Carry on then, Miss Priess. I find I’m quite in the mood for being propositioned.”

Chapter Two (#u8fe957ca-ca02-55d3-aaff-ff55f49f6526)

The lovely Miss Priess did blush at that but her tone remained firm. “A business proposition.” Her blue eyes flicked briefly in Logan’s direction, making a discreet request for privacy. He would take that as a good sign and if she wanted to refer to her proposition as ‘business’, that was fine with him too. The outcome would be the same and that was all that mattered in the end.

Ever the master of nuance, Logan took the hint, making excuses about returning to the gentlemen next door. “Refreshments are available, if you desire anything.” Logan nodded towards the side table set against the wall. It was his way of indicating Hayden was free to pursue whatever course of action he wanted. There would be no interruptions from the inn staff delivering food.

“Ah, mulled wine. Shall I pour you a mug?” Hayden offered to ease the transition of Logan’s departure. It was just the two of them now. Perhaps a little courtesy would thaw her frosty tone, the wine wouldn’t hurt either. Heaven forbid she actually be here to discuss real business. She had the wrong man for that. That was Logan’s specialty.

“No, thank you. This won’t take long.”

Hayden raised an eyebrow and helped himself to the wine. “I’m in no hurry. I have all afternoon.” Clearly, she didn’t know him very well. He liked speed, but not in bed where it was all about slow and steady winning the race. “Please, have a seat, Jenna.” He took a chair near the fire and gestured for her to do the same. Lord, she was a beauty. He watched her arrange her skirts. There were long legs beneath them, he’d wager. He was a breast man himself, but long legs never hurt.

Hayden settled back in the chair, stretching his legs out until his boots rested on the fender of the fire place. It was time to get comfortable. “What is it that you’ve come to, ah, ‘discuss’? The race? Did you see it? There was quite the situation out there on the turn. That can be dangerous when a horse goes down, it puts all the riders in jeopardy.”

Her features settled into a frown of impatient tolerance. “No, Mr. Islington, I’m not here to talk over the race. I’ve come to discuss something else entirely.” “Well, that’s alright by me. We don’t have to discuss anything at all, if you’d prefer not to.” Maybe what she meant was that she was eager to get down to business and not waste time on small talk. Hayden yanked on his cravat and pulled it free. Now they were getting somewhere. “Perhaps you might give me a hand with my boots?” He could already imagine that derriere of hers bent in his direction as she tugged at his boots.

Unfortunately, Miss Jenna Priess didn’t share his enthusiasm for the activity. “Mr. Islington, let me be blunt. I am not one of your swooning ladies who are dying to get into bed with you. I’m not even here about racing. I’m here because you were once an investigator and I have need of one.”

Hayden froze. The past had finally reared its ugly head, here in this remote industrial town. He’d not been expecting it, not here, not now, not from this woman he didn’t know. She might as well have said she needed an escort to the moon. Hayden took a swallow of wine to hide his surprise, to marshal his thoughts.

“I’m an ice racer now, Miss Priess.” His investigation days were long behind him. His celebrity on ice had long since eclipsed any public recollection of what he used to be and for the better, if you asked him. That she even knew he’d been an investigator was nearly as big of a surprise as the initial request. It provoked a host of questions, not the least being how did she know? Perhaps it had been mentioned in passing in an article promoting the race. He’d have to tell Logan to watch the releases more carefully. The other question was how to play this? He had two choices, give in to the curiosity and shock of her request and ask his questions or brush it off with flirtation and innuendo. Perhaps if he flirted hard enough, she would forego her intentions and forget all about wanting an investigator.

Always err on the side of discretion. It had been his motto during his investigatory days and it had kept him alive more than once. If he’d always heeded that advice, things might have turned out differently. Hayden let slip the slightest of wicked grins and decided to play a little in the hopes of drawing her out. “So you do need me?”

He got the reaction he wanted. He’d rather expected he would. Even if she wasn’t indifferent to him, she’d come for real business. She had her pride and she would choke on it before she admitted to the possibility of anything more sensual between them. Miss Priess rose abruptly and pulled on her gloves with short, forceful motions, jamming her fingers into them. “Not in the way you are insinuating, Mr. Islington.”

“I’m not insinuating, I’m clarifying. Do you need me or not?” He rose too, putting himself in close proximity to her, too close to be decent. But he wasn’t a decent man and it was time she knew it.

“I need an investigator.” Her green eyes flared but to her credit she did not back away. “While we’re clarifying, I understand your naughty innuendo perfectly well, and to that I say, not in a million years.”

She might have made a striking exit at that point but she’d forgotten where she’d placed her cloak. Hayden spied it first. His grin widened. Her eyes narrowed as she divined his intent and she moved fast to pre-empt it but his legs were longer and he moved faster. Hayden picked up the cloak and held it out for her, knowing full well it would gall her to take even this small gentlemanly gesture from him.

His hands lingered at her shoulders deliberately as he bent his mouth to her ear, breathing in the welcoming scent of her. “Never is a long time. You might want to keep your options open, Miss Priess.” Lord, she smelled wonderful, like cinnamon and spice, all the good things of a winter kitchen, like a home; nothing at all like the smells he was used to — the sour smell of taprooms, of stale, spilt ale.

Her neck curved forward as she focused her attention on the fastenings of her cloak — too much attention for a task she’d performed a thousand times before and could likely do blindfolded. Hayden smiled. She wasn’t unaffected by him. He could change her mind about leaving. All he had to do was drop a kiss on the nape of her exposed neck, run his hands down the length of her arms. He shouldn’t. It would not be in his best interest in the long run. There was only trouble and ghosts down that path. It didn’t matter what she wanted him to investigate. He simply wasn’t in that line of work any longer. She would be the persistent sort if he let her stay. What he needed, what he wanted was for her to leave and take her notions of investigating elsewhere.

“I need an investigator, Mr. Islington.” She turned to face him, effectively removing his hands from her shoulders and taking away his chance for kissing in any case, her words affirming his perception. He’d guessed right about the persistence. He took her hand, encased inside smooth, expensive leather. The woman had good taste and the money to indulge it from the fur at her neck to the gloves on her hands.

He kissed her knuckles one more time. “I regret to inform you, an investigator is something I haven’t been for a very long time, Miss Priess. It’s a wonder you even knew to ask. How did you know?”

“A little bird told me.” She pulled at her hand but this time he didn’t let it go. He needed to know. He pressed on with a sly rejoinder.

“Really? Haven’t they all flown south for the winter?” This was a sharper flirtation than earlier. They were fencing now. She’d encroached on private territory and he was forced to defend it.

“I haven’t time for your games, sir. I have several mill workers who have gone missing and a father who may be wrongly accused of crimes he has no knowledge of if I can’t find the workers. I came here looking for honest help.” She gave him a derisive look. “And what I found was you.”

That stung. She had definitely prodded a sleeping bear with her sharp tongue. Hayden folded his arms across his chest, common sense warring with his pride. He was an ice racer now. His investigatory days were over and for good reason. He couldn’t help her, he shouldn’t help her. Yet, that fatal twinge of chivalry, that desire to help others which had driven him into investigation work in the first place was starting to stir. It didn’t help that the woman standing before him was beautiful, proud and desperate.

Oh she was desperate alright, a classic casebook study of desperation in fact. He’d learned to see the signs. The prouder someone was, the more they tried to hide how desperate they really were. She’d hidden it in her frosty tones, in the fine impeccable quality of her clothes, all of it designed to suggest she was a woman who didn’t need anyone when in reality she needed someone badly. Quite badly if she’d resorted to looking for him.

“I have obligations while I’m here. My time isn’t necessarily my own.” Hayden iterated his excuses — very valid excuses, he thought. He, Carrick and Logan were slated to be here for the latter part of winter, however long that lasted. Hopefully until the first of March if the ice held. They had the race today, a few races later and then they were using Kendal as a base for other visits nearby.

“It may not take that long and I can pay you handsomely. Two hundred pounds.” she pushed, her stubborn pride perhaps sensing an opening in what others would have taken as a polite refusal. He’d meant to use his commitments as an excuse. But she saw the hope in it for her. Commitments bound him to the area. He would be here for the duration. She swallowed hard. “Please.”

Hayden could feel himself starting to prevaricate. There were so many reasons he shouldn’t do this. It went against the grain of common sense. It was a side of his life he’d left behind. And not the least of those reasons — Logan would be furious. Yet, looking at her, seeing her desperation, he didn’t not want to do it. Nor did he like the insinuation that he had somehow fallen short of her expectations.

So be it. He would leave it up to her. Hayden issued a dare-wrapped dismissal. He let go of her hand and swept her a bow. “My regrets, Miss Priess. What you see is what you get. As you said, you came looking for an investigator and you found me. If you think you can settle for that, come back tonight.”

Come back tonight? Did he think her utterly naïve? Or did he still believe she was another desperate doxy eager to get into his bed? Neither of the options were flattering depictions of her character. Jenna was still fuming over his challenge when she arrived home. Hayden Islington was a cad. A heart-stoppingly gorgeous cad, but a cad nonetheless.

She’d come to him with an honest inquiry and he’d answered her with flirtation and innuendo, which to her shame, she’d not been unaffected by as much as she would have liked. If he’d meant his playful overtures to act as distractions, they’d worked to some degree. Hayden Islington was an undeniably handsome devil of a man with sharp blue eyes that weren’t afraid to laugh, a tousled, tawny mess of thick hair the color of wild honey and that mouth of his was quite possibly the wickedest mouth she’d ever seen on a man — not that she should have been noticing given the nature of her business. But she had noticed. With the merest of smiles, that mouth invited her to envision kissing those lips, or being kissed by them. Her imagination had taken that invitation.

If her business with him had not been so dire, she might have been derailed from her purpose altogether. He flirted quite nicely, quite expertly and what red-blooded woman with an ounce of fire to her didn’t appreciate that sort of attention once in a while. Once in a long while. That sort of attention could get a girl into trouble and well she knew it. She’d been too innocent for her own good once. Just once, but that had been all it took for her to learn her lesson when it came to handsome devils.