Gambling on a Scoundrel

by Sheridan Jeane

  Boothby delivered the cloak and promised to pass on her message to Ernest. Within a matter of minutes, Clarisse was safely ensconced in her carriage and traveling home.

  Lucien locked his office door. He was done. He'd fulfilled his commitment to Tempy. He tossed a couple of logs into the fireplace, sending up a flurry of sparks, and then walked back to the bottle of champagne. He lifted it, held it up to the light to check the level of liquid within it. Even though it was still half full, he set it down with a thunk. The thought of finishing this bottle of champagne alone left him feeling empty.

  What he needed was something much stronger than champagne. He crossed the room to the side table, where he picked up the whiskey decanter and poured himself a generous serving, sloshing some onto the granite tabletop. Carrying the glass, he took a couple of strides toward the chair by the fireplace, and then stopped and turned around to retrace his steps.

  This time, he picked up the decanter as well and carried it with him to the chair.

  He planned to get good and drunk.

  For a brief moment, he felt a twinge of guilt for his behavior. After all, this was his last night in the casino. He should be spending time with his former employees, assuaging their fears about the new owner of Hamlin House. But he quickly drowned those nobler feelings.

  How could he possibly bring himself to walk out there?

  Lucien knew what he'd see. Tempy with Ernest. They would be reunited. She would be glowing. Reveling in her success at winning Ernest back.

  Draped in his mother's diamonds.

  He lifted his tumbler to take another sip of whiskey and realized it was empty already. Good thing he'd brought the decanter with him.

  He sloshed more into his glass, clattering the neck of the decanter against his tumbler.

  As he set the decanter back on the small side table, he heard something smack against the door.

  33 - On Second Thought

  Tempy hurried back into the casino and glanced over her shoulder, but fortunately, Ernest had the good sense to stay hidden behind the curtain of the alcove.

  Her chin held high, Tempy moved toward the roulette table as she scanned the casino floor, searching for Lucien. She didn't know what his plans were for distracting Clarisse, but he couldn't have gone far.

  She tried to look casual as she scanned the room, examining each of the alcoves in turn. She caught sight of movement in one of them, but the gentleman who emerged wasn't Lucien.

  Ernest slipped out of his alcove after about five minutes, and Tempy turned her back to him.

  What if Lucien wasn't in here? What if he'd taken Clarisse to his office?

  Anger swept through her as she envisioned Lucien handing Clarisse a glass of champagne. Smiling down at her. Locking gazes with her as his head descended...

  No.

  Tempy spun on her heel.

  Things would not happen this way. She would not let that witch Clarisse steal another man from her.

  Tempy did not glide. She did not insinuate herself across the room. Tempy stormed across the casino floor. People moved to one side when they saw her bearing down on them, startled expressions on their faces. But Tempy didn't care. She had only one goal in mind.

  She stalked toward the door to Lucien's office and then grabbed the knob and tried to turn it with a jerk. She pressed her shoulder against the door but stumbled when it wouldn't open.

  He'd locked it.

  Good Lord, he'd locked it.

  Tempy smacked the flat of her palm against the door in frustration. "Lucien," she called. "Lucien, I know you're in there."

  A man entering the casino turned to stare at her.

  "Lucien, this is embarrassing. Open the door, please."

  She heard a click, and when the door opened, she almost fell through it in her rush to enter.

  "I want that woman out of here," Tempy demanded. She spun around, searching the room. "Where is she?"

  "On her way home," Lucien said. He locked the door again and then turned his back on Tempy as he walked over to his desk. He leaned back on it, his legs wide and his hands curled around the edge, and then stared down at his feet.

  Tempy looked around and noticed the open bottle of champagne on the side table. "What's this?" she asked.

  He glanced at her and then over at the bottle. "A prop. Every show needs props. How can I play a part without props?"

  "So you plied her with champagne and kissed her?" Tempy's throat was tight.

  "Wasn't that the plan?"

  "Is that your favored method of seduction? Champagne?" Her eyes began to burn, and she knew she would cry soon if she couldn't get her emotions under control.

  "Why are you acting this way?" Lucien asked in a cold voice. "Did Ernest reject you?"

  "Of course not," she snapped. "I rejected him." She took a couple of steps closer to Lucien. "It worked, just the way we planned, but then when everything was within my grasp, I realized that I couldn't do it. Not like that. Not with tricks and manipulations." And not with Ernest. Not ever.

  He smiled half a smile that only lifted one corner of his mouth. "So you came here to rescue me?"

  "To stop you. I couldn't bear the thought of the two of you..."

  "The two of us...what?"

  She blushed.

  "Ah," he said. "Shall I tell you what happened?"

  He pushed away from his desk and crossed over to the side table. There he poured two fresh glasses of champagne.

  He came back to her and handed her one of the flutes. "It went something like this," he said. "I handed her a glass, and she immediately drank half of it." He paused, waiting.

  After a moment, Tempy realized that he wouldn't continue unless she played her part in this pantomime. So she lifted the glass and drank half of it. "I refilled it." He frowned. "Let's skip that part. It didn't end well."

  She narrowed her eyes at him. "Go on."

  "Then she got this look in her eye and came closer." He paused again, so Tempy took a step closer to him.

  "Closer than that."

  She blushed, but moved closer. He crooked a finger, and she came even closer, so that they stood only a few inches apart. She could smell the whiskey on his breath, but she didn't move.

  "That's about right. And then she leaned just a bit closer. I could tell that she wanted me to kiss her."

  Tempy closed her eyes, not wanting to see his face when he said the next words.

  "And then I bumped her glass and spilled champagne all over her dress."

  Her eyes flew open. "You what?"

  He reached out, plucking her champagne flute from her hand, and then set it on the desk. "I spilled her champagne. She seemed quite upset, so I'd rather not make that mistake again, even if it did serve to extricate me from a difficult situation."

  Tempy stared at him, bemused.

  He leaned back against the desk with his legs splayed and reached out to pull her against him. "You came here to save me?"

  Lucien slid his fingertips along the diamond necklace, sending a shiver down her spine as his fingertips brushed against her neck. She swallowed, and his fingertips touched the hollow of her throat. "To save you," she echoed.

  "That was valiant of you." His hand slid up the side of her neck and cupped her head.

  She sighed. Lucien pulled her toward him, and Tempy put the palm of her hand on his chest as she leaned into him. Ever so gently, she pressed her lips against his.

  This was what she wanted. This was where she should be. With Lucien. In his arms.

  Lucien responded immediately. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and kissed her roughly at first, his lips insistent against hers. Their tongues swirled together, and she tasted the smoky liquor he'd consumed.

  Tremors of excitement ran through her, making the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She dug her fingers into his thick, dark hair, relishing the silky feel of it as his kisses threaded their way down her neck.

  He lifted his head and then pulled
her tightly against him. She could feel him fumbling at the ribbons on her back that held her bodice in place. She knew she could pull away, but she didn't want to.

  She only wanted Lucien.

  In just a moment, the bodice loosened, and Lucien was tugging at it, trying to free her from its confines.

  She paused to help him, unfastening the row of silver hooks down the front that held it closed. This might not be the smartest thing she'd ever done, but it was what she wanted more than anything else.

  His eyes widened as her breasts fell free. Her half-corset stopped below them, and Lucien reached forward to cup each breast in his hands. He dipped his head and kissed them as his thumbs brushed against her nipples.

  They immediately stiffened at his touch, becoming more sensitive than ever before. Tempy gasped sharply at the sensation. He dropped one of his hands to her waist, where he searched for the closure for her skirt. After a few tugs, her skirt and petticoats were falling to the floor.

  Tempy stood before him, wearing only her half-corset, pantaloons, and shoes. But the look of awe on Lucien's face made her feel confident, not exposed.

  But now, she wanted to see more of him. She slid her hands up, under his jacket and over his shoulders, pushing his frock coat off.

  He shrugged out of it and then began tugging at the fabric around his neck while she worked free the buttons on his waistcoat. The only sounds in the room were from the crackling of the fire and their heavy breathing.

  Once the buttons were undone, Lucien pulled everything off over his head, leaving his chest bare for her to see.

  And for her to touch.

  She breathed in as she rested her palm on his smooth chest. His skin felt hot, and his muscles trembled at her touch.

  He leaned back against the desk again and pulled her between his thighs. Her bare breasts pressed against his chest, and she tilted her head back in an invitation for a kiss.

  He didn't disappoint. Their mouths merged and Tempy slid her hands over his velvety-soft skin. She wanted to touch him everywhere at once, and she hungrily moved her hands over his chest and arms.

  She felt his fingers tugging at her waistband once more, and a moment later her pantaloons were falling from her hips. Lucien slid his hand down her back and cupped her bare bottom, causing her to jump in surprise. She leaned into him and felt something hard between his legs. He pressed her hips closer to him and then exhaled as she felt his body tremble against hers.

  He took her hand in his and slid it down, between them, and cupped it around the hard length of him. She squeezed slightly, feeling the outlines, and he let out a soft moan.

  She pulled her hand away, surprised, but he found it again and put it back.

  The next few moments passed in a blur of sensations. They moved from the edge of the desk to the oriental rug in front of the fire, and they both were naked. At some point, Lucien had turned the gaslights down low so that the dim light cast faint shadows onto the floor.

  Lying on her back, Tempy watched as Lucien spread her thighs and then centered his hips between them. He lowered his body over hers, supporting his weight with his arms as he gazed down at her.

  His eyes were dark, the pupils dilated as he seemed to try to memorize the moment. Tempy lay naked before him except for the diamond necklace.

  Lucien lowered his head and nuzzled her breast, kissing it and then taking it into his mouth. He pressed his face between her breasts, and then his mouth moved slowly as it left a line of fire trailing down her body along her belly.

  Tempy moaned as he moved his hands between her thighs. He slid his fingers between the folds of her cleft, and she was surprised by the slick moisture there as his fingers moved inside her.

  The sensations he aroused in her made her head feel light, as though all the blood was rushing away from it. She moaned again as his fingers slid deep within her, thrusting in and then sliding out so that she writhed with pleasure under his attentions.

  She wanted something more. More of him. She slid her hand between them and cupped the hard length of him, just as he'd shown her. She gave it a light squeeze, and as before, he let out a small moan of pleasure.

  "Are you sure this is what you want?" he murmured. Tempy's brain couldn't seem to form the words to say yes, so she nodded. To make sure he understood, she ground her hips against his hand.

  He lifted up and away from her, but only for a moment. Then, he was between her thighs. She felt him press into her. She expected pain, but there was none. Only a slick fullness as he slid inside her. The pleasure that he'd already wrought in her began to increase. He slid his hand between their bodies, just above the point where they joined together, and then began making small circles around a nub of intense sensation.

  His fingers created spasms of pleasure that pulsed from the nub. Her body rocked with jolts of pleasure, and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him inside her as far as possible. Throwing back her head, she moaned, and then he kissed her, devouring her lips and tongue with a passion that matched her own.

  He pressed into her then and threw his head back as his eyes widened. His body convulsed over her as he shuddered. "Tempy," he said in a moan. "Oh my God. Tempy."

  He kept his arms straight as he held his body above her, and then slowly bent his elbows and pressed his body into hers. His skin was like a furnace, and she could feel the heavy beat of his heart against her chest.

  After a few moments, their breathing eased. Tempy closed her eyes, and Lucien rolled to one side. Then he lifted her head and wrapped his arm around her so that her head was pillowed on his shoulder.

  34 - A Few Hours Later

  Something woke Tempy up.

  One side of her body was quite warm. Almost hot. And the other was chilled. She opened her eyes and lifted her cheek from the firm pillow on which it rested and looked down at Lucien's face. His eyes were closed and he breathed deeply, still asleep. From this angle, it looked as though he might be smiling. Without turning to look, she knew that the fire was out. That was why her backside was feeling so chilly. She must have been asleep for a while.

  She heard a knock at the door, and her body jerked in surprise. That must be what had woken her. Lucien's arm tightened around her in his sleep, pulling her closer to him in a protective gesture.

  "Mr. Hamlin," she heard Boothby say through the door. The doorknob rattled as someone tried to turn it. Fortunately, it was locked, since she was sprawled naked across Lucien.

  She pushed herself up on one arm and shook Lucien with her free hand. He opened his eyes, looking rather bleary-eyed at first, but then his eyes snapped open. "Wake up," she whispered as she climbed to her feet. "Someone's at the door." She moved so quickly that by the time his eyes focused on her, she already had her pantaloons on and was loosening the crisscrossing ties on her corset so that she could put it back on.

  He smiled at her. It was a sated, male smile that made her knees weak for a moment as she remembered the cause of it.

  And then Boothby knocked again.

  "I don't wish to be disturbed," Lucien called out, holding up a hand, indicating that Tempy should be quiet.

  She batted his hand away, annoyed with him. What did he think she was doing? Singing opera? Of course she would be quiet.

  "I'm sorry, sir," Boothby said. "But it's Miss Bliss. Her carriage is still here, but nobody has seen her in a few hours."

  Tempy's eyes widened in horror. She redoubled her efforts to dress, swinging her corset around her body with a practiced hand and fastening the row of steel hooks down the front.

  "Give me a moment," Lucien called back to him, "and I'll come sort it out."

  Tempy turned so that her loose corset strings faced Lucien. He stepped closer, tightening them until she held up a hand, indicating that he should stop. He was strong and had made quick work of the task.

  He dressed quickly, and she envied him the relative simplicity of his clothes.

  Lucien tossed a log on the fire while Tempy pulled on her sk
irt and petticoats. She tied the drawstrings of her petticoats and fastened the hooks on the waistband of her skirt. Then she shrugged into her bodice. She fastened it and then rushed over to the mirror by the door to check her reflection.

  Lucien stepped up behind her, glancing at her eyes in the mirror before checking them both for telltale signs of what had just transpired. He tucked one of her sparkling hairpins more firmly in place and then gave a nod of approval. Apparently, he thought they'd both pass muster.

  She agreed.

  "They must think I'm still in the casino somewhere," she whispered as she turned to face him. "My cloak is in the coatroom and my carriage is out front."

  Lucien glanced at the clock and frowned. "It's just past one. I'm sure many of my patrons are still here. You can't leave unnoticed, but you can't stay either."

  "Tell Boothby I fell asleep in here."

  Lucien shook his head. "He'll never believe that."

  "Perhaps not, but I don't think that matters. I'm certain he'll help us."

  Lucien buttoned his frock coat, and Tempy reached out to smooth a stray lock of his hair back in place. But before she could touch it, he grabbed hold of her hand to stop her.

  He looked troubled. "This should never have happened. I took advantage of you last night when my judgment was clouded with drink. I apologize."

  Gentlemanly though his words were, she hated the idea that he regretted what they'd done. She pulled her hand from his grasp. "Don't say that, Lucien. I wanted it as much as you did."

  He shook his head. "I'm not sure you did. You left my office last night intent on winning back Ernest, and then returned and gave yourself to me. I find it difficult to accept that you could abandon that dream so easily and so irrevocably. I'm afraid that in the light of day, you'll regret what transpired between us."

  She flinched at his words. He sounded angry. Hurt even. "But I want you. Not Ernest. You're the one who helped me and encouraged me. You're the one who likes me exactly as I am. Not Ernest."