by Lavinia Kent
The captain sat up. “He gave you five thousand pounds and you complain?”
“He gave me the monies on the condition that I never contact him again.” She kept her eyes closed as the memory of that dreadful day filled her. She’d had almost no contact from her father that last year of her mother’s life, but still she’d held out hope. He was her father, the man who had tossed her in the air and brought her a tiny tea set. She knew her own actions had caused the rift between them, but until that final day she’d still believed that somehow everything would be all right. “I took the money and then sold the majority of my mother’s jewelry. I still didn’t know quite what I was going to do, but when Madame Noir called with her condolences she mentioned that she was planning to retire. I made her an offer and I have never regretted it.”
That was not quite the full truth. It would have been far more honest to say that she had never doubted that she made the right decision, the only possible decision. She could never have followed in her mother’s footsteps and let one man control her whole life, but there was no place for her in normal society. There was no place that she belonged and so she had created her own situation, determined her own destiny. It might not have been the dream of her childhood, but it was not a bad life.
Derek leaned back against the pillows. “You have grown quiet.”
“I am not sure what else there is to say. I took all the money I had and bought a brothel. I’ve been here ever since, queen of the night.” She tried to laugh, but was afraid the sound fell flat.
Lifting a hand, Derek placed it upon her cheek and turned her face until they were eye to eye. “We all have choices to make and sometimes they are not the ones we want. You have done well with what you were given.”
Had he read her mind? She tried to turn away, but he held her still, staring into her eyes, into her soul. Could he see the doubts that lingered there?
“I have tried. It is not an easy life and I know that society will never understand. I was not the one who made the rules, who decided that a woman in the city could be a wife, a maid, or a whore. And without references the choice drops further. I can only look out for my girls, not change the world they are born into.”
Derek stared at her solemnly for a moment, his eyes filled with understanding. But then something happened. First the corner of his mouth quivered as if he had a tick. Then his eyes crinkled. A snort escaped. And then another. He looked away and pressed his lips tight. She could see the effort he made, in the deepening color of his skin, and the single tear that fell from one eye.
And then he let it go.
He was laughing, laughing at her, at her heartfelt confession.
She pulled back, affronted, but he caught her arm and held her. The struggle to suppress his mirth was clear. He was nearly choking with the effort, but it did not calm her.
Struggling, she attempted to move across the bed.
“No, no. Be still.” He coughed loudly, trying to get out the words. “You are taking it wrong.”
“Then how should I take it?” Her voice sounded brittle.
Taking a great gulp of air, he finally succeeded in holding back his laughter. “I was just comparing the crimson-haired seductress I first met with the angel who came to my bath and then realizing that in truth you are a crusader. I would never have imagined that, but I do respect it. And I do believe you watch out for your girls. And I do know that circumstance determines the choices we have. I know it better than most.” The humor faded even from his eyes as he spoke.
Only as it seeped away did Ruby realize how much she had enjoyed his momentary pleasure despite it being at her own expense. He did not smile enough. In fact, this might have been the first genuine grin she’d seen since meeting him. She was almost sorry he had stopped.
Leaning forward, she kissed him lightly on the corner of his mouth. “I am not quite sure I understand, but given that we have only tonight, perhaps we should concentrate on the fun and not the sadness. You do not need to know the torrid pieces of my life and I do not need to know yours.”
Chapter Eight
Perhaps Ruby—or Emma, as she’d named herself—was right. Perhaps they should put deep thoughts and feelings back in the box and concentrate only on the pleasure of the moment. In the morning he would leave to look at textile mills in Manchester, and take care of that other matter he tried so hard to avoid thinking of, and Ruby would—Ruby would go on being Madame Rouge.
He was not sure why the thought made him frown. He’d planned this trip long before he set sail from Rhode Island. It could change both his destiny and that of his family. And as for Ruby, of course, she would go on being Madame Rouge. What other choice was there? It wasn’t as if he wanted to take her with him. No, it certainly was not.
He quickly shuttered the image of her spread across his captain’s bed. A woman like Madame Rouge would never be happy onboard ship. And why was he even thinking such thoughts?
He turned his mouth and met her kiss full-on. Pressing lips tight, slipping his tongue between her teeth and into the waiting warmth. Her own tongue met his and the dance began. Parry. Thrust. Parry.
He pulled back and stared down at her desire-fogged eyes and swollen lips. God, she was perfect.
Bending again to the kiss, he let himself grow lost in it. His own mind fogging with the sheer pleasure of the moment. Warmth and moisture. Skin and velvet. The feel of sweet breath against his cheek. The swirl of tongues. This was what made life worth living. He could have stayed here, lips locked together forever.
The thought was enough to pull him back.
Kissing. He was only kissing and he was prepared to stay here forever?
That couldn’t be right.
No matter what his mind and his brain were telling him, a man needed more.
Only it didn’t feel that way.
He drew back again. Ruby’s head lifted from the pillow following him, her hands reaching out to tangle in his hair.
It brought the smile back to his face. “Eager, aren’t you?”
Her blurred eyes looked back at him and then she grinned. “I hoped to get you smiling again. It is quite becoming on you. You should do it more often.”
“I don’t often find reason to smile.” And that was far too true. Life was hard and demanded constant work. There was little time in the day for frivolity.
“And yet you choose to smile for me. I will forgive you all for that compliment.” Her eyes lit with an inner glow. Her hands fell from his hair and she pushed herself up until she reclined against the high mound of pillows, white damask surrounding creamy flesh. Those magnificent breasts slipped from the sheets again and yes, he was a man and a man did need more than kisses. Those rose-pink nipples cried out to be suckled and nibbled. He could see the faint imprint of his teeth from earlier and his cock throbbed at seeing his mark upon her.
It felt so primitive. He felt so primitive.
Well, why not? He moved forward, stalking her like a great cat, until he could lay his mouth over his mark, not quite biting, but definitely tasting his brand.
“Hmmm,” she whispered, letting her body sink back into the pillows. “Do you think we can take it slow this time? I’d really like to relish the experience.”
“We can try. Although I’ve never been much for slow.” He lifted his head. “And did you not relish it the last three times?”
“You are such a man. And I am not sure that relish is quite the right word for what I experienced the last three times.”
Lifting his hips he pressed his arousal against her thigh. “I certainly hope I am a man.”
—
What was it about him? Never had a man moved her between laughter and intimacy with such ease. “I will not debate the subject.”
“Should I take that as a win?” He cocked a brow.
“I will let you take it as you choose. And my gods, where did you learn that look? You could be a duke. Perhaps dukeness is seeping from the bed onto you.”
“�
�‘Dukeness’? I do not believe that is a real word, and to the best of my knowledge I have never even met a duke. I do have a cousin once removed who is an earl, Lord Willis, but I’ve only met him on rare occasion. I am invited to a masquerade he is throwing this summer if I am still in London, but I believe he is actually inviting all of London, so he is trying to please only my mother with the invite. I do not believe that he either believes I will make it or will even notice my presence if I do.” He rolled onto his back.
Yes, he was endlessly confusing. One moment stern, one aroused and ready, one laughing, and the next telling her secrets with an air of confidence. Not, she supposed, that it was truly a secret who his cousin was, but Ruby had the feeling that he didn’t often share the fact.
Turning on her side, she stared at him through a veil of mussed blond curls. “So what is happening between us? What is it you want?”
She’d never seen a man stiffen so fast—and not in a good way.
What a fool she was, Madame Rouge, the woman who knew all about men and how to manage them. “I phrased that wrong. I know that there is no surer way to send a man running than to ask him to define the relationship he seeks with a woman.”
Reaching out, she ran a hand along his thigh, not touching anything crucial, but making her intent clear. There were some things about managing men that she did remember. His warm skin shifted at her touch, and he turned toward her.
“What did you mean then?” he asked.
How to phrase it? “I am confused and I do not like being confused. When I came to the bath tonight I had one idea of what would happen between us, and to be frank, it did not include much conversation. I rarely share things about myself with others and I sense that you are the same. Am I wrong?”
“No, you are not wrong.”
She focused her gaze on the indent below his throat, such an innocent spot, a vulnerable spot. “Let me give you choices. A, tonight was the end, a simple meeting of flesh for mutual pleasure and to relieve the pressure of desire. B, this was wonderful, more than expected. Let’s do it again when chance permits. C, you love me and want to stay with me forever. Let’s do this again and again and then you’ll sweep me away to wedded bliss.”
He chuckled deep in his chest. “Not the last, but then you knew that. And you’d probably say no.”
It was her turn to chuckle. “Yes, I would. Why give up all this and be respectable?” Sitting in bed, letting the sheet fall to her waist, she gestured about the chamber.
His eyes fastened on her bare breasts.
Ah, men, always the same.
“Are you calling me respectable?” he asked, his grin widening.
Where had this man come from? He was certainly not the same one she’d escorted to this chamber last night. “No, I would never dream of it, although I think you care for the title more than you would ever admit.”
“And I might say the same.”
She would ignore that. Thinking about respectability never led anywhere she wished to go. “Are you avoiding my question? If this thing between us could go anywhere you wished, where would that be?” She let her face turn serious. He might not wish to answer the question, and she had little wish to pressure him, but she did need to know.
“I don’t know.” His own grin dropped. “All of the above. Yes, there is even a bit of C. I might not wish to wed you, but I could fuck you forever.”
And wasn’t that just what every girl dreamed of hearing? Sliding from the bed, she picked up his fallen shirt and wrapped it tight about herself as she went to peek through the closed drapes. The streets were dark, save for the faint glow of the oil lamps, but she did not care. She was looking more into her soul than out the window. She had asked, she could not blame him for answering.
And what did she want anyway? She certainly did not want forever. Although, as she cast a glance at him over her shoulder, admiring the way his long naked form filled the bed, she did have to admit that she too could have fucked him forever. It was pointless to let his words disappoint her. Madame Rouge was far beyond disappointment.
Pushing her cheeks up in a smile, she turned back. “Forgive me. I am discovering that even I, like other women, can become a trifle emotional after sex. I know it is not what men want to deal with. I think at heart my question was more practical in nature. I refuse to have it known that I have taken a lover. It would, in truth, cause me nothing but difficulties. We could meet here perhaps one more night, but then my staff will begin to wonder why you are willing to pay so much for a room you occupy alone. Neither of us wants that speculation.”
He sat on the bed, swinging his muscled legs over the edge. “You are correct. And I do understand.” He ran a hand through his hair and it was hard to imagine the laughing man of moments before.
What did she want his answer to be? One was always more likely to succeed if one actually knew what one wanted.
She wanted him.
That was easy.
But for how long?
And under what circumstances?
Those questions were much harder.
She was making this too difficult. It wasn’t like she had to answer these questions for a lifetime. She only had to answer for right now.
“Will I see you tonight?” she asked.
His fingers ruffled those sunny locks one more time. “I am supposed to be traveling to Manchester in the morning. Family business.”
“Hmmm.”
“But I would like to see you when I return. I am happy to make arrangements if…”
“No, I can make arrangements. But do not tell me to unless you are sure. You do not need to lie to me. I am a woman who likes the truth. I do not need sweet words. I need honesty. Now and always. That is the one thing, the only thing I will require of you. If you do not wish to tell me something, fine. But do not lie. I have had enough lies in my life.”
He looked at her, stared deep into her soul. For a moment she thought she saw something in his eyes, something not happy, something to be wary of, but when he spoke his voice was steady. “I can do that.”
“Good.” She smiled at him, let the shirt fall open, very aware of the picture she must present, flushed, naked skin, soft white linen, blond curls all atumble. She never wore white when she was Madame Rouge, but her natural coloring became almost angelic when paired with virginal white. The captain clearly liked it.
She let her eyes drift down to settle between his legs.
Yes, he liked it a lot.
She stepped forward, licking her lips, leaving them glistening.
Stopping a few feet before him, she looked up into his eyes. “I do want you to know that whatever happens in the next hours is not influenced by whether we plan to see each other again or not. If you change your words and tell me this is it, then I will be all the more eager to enjoy what time we have. I am not a woman who lays a hidden cost on things.” Then she did smile. “I am always very clear about the price up front.”
He snorted, an actual snort. “I had heard that about this establishment. That and that bartering was no use.”
“Yes, you always get exactly what you pay for with me.”
Another snort.
She was glad he caught the humor in her words and did not take them at their face value—at least not completely.
With grace she’d learned from a Arabian dancer, she sank to her knees before him. Placing a hand on each firm thigh, she leaned forward, blew.
He danced before her. It was her turn to snort at her own fancy.
“There are moments when a man does not like to be laughed at.”
Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss on his hard length. “It doesn’t seem to bother you, but I am sure you know that I am not laughing at my dragon.”
“Your dragon? I do believe this youthful bit of folly is distinctly mine.”
“And don’t you wish me to claim him?” She followed the kiss with a long, slow lick, the entire length of his cock.
“I might be willing to grant
you temporary ownership.” He slid forward on the bed, spreading his legs farther.
“You might? I am not sure that I think there’s much ‘might’ about it.” Turning her face, she stared down at the dragon’s head, reaching up to trace his maw with a finger. “I don’t know why I find him so fascinating. I know it’s just ink and skin, but he seems so alive.” A soft kiss upon the dragon’s mouth. Letting her tongue travel down the emerald neck and along the strong, scaled back, Ruby tasted and enjoyed.
Derek quivered beneath her touch, his hands rapidly tightening to fists. Enjoying his excitement, Ruby nipped at the arch of the dragon’s back, that tender spot where skin grew taut over the jut of hip bone. Then, working her way down that ridge of muscle that led to his groin, she followed the dragon’s tail until it reached the base of his cock. She paused there, considered. How to approach this?
Reaching out with one hand, she circled the base, her fingers not quite meeting. She stroked up, holding the skin tight, stretching the curling tail. With her own smile of satisfaction, she brought her lips back to his flesh, letting them settle upon his skin, watching the dragon move at her touch.
“You are killing me.” It was a flat statement.
“Hmm, and I was just thinking how alive both you and your dragon seemed.”
“So he’s mine again?”
“For the moment. I have always wanted to slay a dragon, although yours does seem to rise again. Perhaps he is, in fact, a phoenix. Should I see if he bursts into flame?”
She gave him one last smile, and then rounded her lips about the head of his cock, drawing the helmet deep.
His only answer was a long, drawn-out groan.
Her lips tightened about him as her tongue darted out to press against the pulsing vein that ran along the lower side.
Another groan. “God, it’s better than I imagined—and my imagination painted quite the picture.”
She pulled back enough that she could speak. “Do you mean when I came upon you in the shower bath?”
“How did you know?”
“Your focus at the time was as much on my lips as on my breasts. It was not so hard to guess.” She moved her lips back, relaxing her throat to take him deep.
