Even with Jonathan’s assurances, Rawson’s direct gaze still looked dubious. “It isn’t that easy.”
“My concern isn’t your scheme or anything related to the shipping company. My thoughts lie with my brother and myself. I want to know why our involvement is so important.”
“I don’t know.” Rawson’s face appeared clear, without guile, but Jonathan wasn’t satisfied.
Resting his palms on the table, Jonathan pushed himself up out of the chair. “Then please excuse me. I can’t be late for my meeting with Dudgery.”
“Wait,” Rawson pleaded, his eyes wide with fear. “I will tell you what I know.”
Reclaiming his seat, Jonathan folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. “I’m listening, but afterward I will determine if you’ve relayed enough to ensure my silence.”
“I lost a substantial amount of money to Dudgery across the gaming table. My father refused to pay as he usually does, and instead left me with no way of settling my debt to the earl’s satisfaction.”
“How can you be an investor if you have nothing to offer?”
“I haven’t made any financial contribution, but I have offered my services to pay off my debt. Then as you discovered, Sideon offered me a portion of Dudgery’s investment.”
Jonathan took a moment to absorb the new information. All this time he thought Rawson had been the one with the power and the earl blindly following along. However, considering Dudgery’s title and wealth, this scenario made more sense.
“So did Dudgery or Sideon put you up to convincing Stanwick to invest?”
“Dudgery. He insisted you and my father invest in this company. When you decided to end the feud, he saw it as his opportunity to have the two of you go in together.”
“What does Berwick say about all this?”
“He’s not interested in investing. Dudgery has a terrible temper and will not be pleased that neither one of you are taking advantage of the opportunity.”
“Don’t you mean taking the bait? I already know there’s no shipping company.”
Rawson shrugged. “It isn’t the best investment.”
“Well, I suppose you have given me enough for now, but I may seek you out in the future should I need anything else.”
As Rawson strolled away, Jonathan noticed his demeanor had changed. He no longer acted the overconfident, cocky man. The card tables didn’t receive much attention from him as he continued out the front door. Jonathan felt a hint of satisfaction considering this day would survive without overly increasing Rawson’s gambling debts.
Hours later, no patrons remained. Jonathan and Nathaniel closed the doors early and then sat to share a brandy. Jonathan couldn’t remember how many times they’d sat together at the close of the day, drawing out potential threats to the club and retaining information to stop problems. He would miss this.
“Did you find out what you wanted from Rawson, or do you need me to keep an eye on him?” Nathaniel asked.
“I’m finished with him.” Jonathan set his brandy down and faced his friend. “I asked you to stay late for another reason.”
“All right,” Nathaniel answered hesitantly.
“The ownership of the club will be changing soon. Actually Mr. Spinner will be arriving tomorrow morning with the final papers. I will remain as an investor, but you won’t have me to answer to any longer.”
Nathaniel remained quiet for a while as he looked at Jonathan with sadness in his eyes. “Why? Is ownership that much trouble for you?”
“No. As I delve deeper into Linwood’s account books, I’m realizing I should be there. Considering my life has drastically changed, I need to accommodate for the new situation I’m in.”
“Who’s purchasing the club?”
“I’m not selling, merely transferring. I have a person under my employ who is very deserving and has worked over and beyond his responsibilities. My gift of Ravenhurst is my way of saying thank you. After all, you deserve it.”
Nathaniel’s wide eyes stared at Jonathan. “Me?”
“Ravenhurst will be yours tomorrow morning after we complete the paperwork.”
Nathaniel said nothing as the news settled. Producing a slow smile, he offered, “Thank you. I will not let you down.”
“I know you won’t. Now why don’t you go home to tell your wife? I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed to learn of your news.”
After a few more rushed thank you’s, Nathaniel happily took his leave. Although hating to give the club up, Jonathan knew he’d made the right decision. Nathaniel would take care of Ravenhurst, and Jonathan would still earn a profit.
As Jonathan prepared to lock up for the night, he heard a faint knocking. Curious, he followed the sound until he realized someone knocked on the door. Unsure of who would come this late at night, he threw open the door hoping to disarm the other person.
A hooded figure stood outside. Before he could open his mouth to question their purpose, the fabric fell back. His breathing stopped as his heart seized. Catherine.
Chapter 9
Catherine’s body shivered as nerves engulfed her. Jonathan stood in the doorway with a stunned expression and no indication he intended to move. Would he let her in? What would she do if he refused? It had been difficult to escape and returning home now brought an acute ache to her chest. Had the downstairs maid not sympathized with her plight with her uncle, she never would have sneaked from the house unnoticed, nor would she be able to get back in.
“May I come in?” Her voice came out hesitant, weak. She hated the apprehension she heard in the tone.
Jonathan stepped aside.
As she followed him through the club, her wide eyes drank in the sight of the forbidden gentlemen’s retreat. The décor was dark, but inviting and very masculine. The smell of stale alcohol and cigars reminded her of her father. She could imagine this being a place he would have frequented.
After Jonathan led her into an office, he turned to face her. His expression remained unreadable, which only increased her discomfort. Keeping her elbows locked into place, she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself.
“What are you doing here?” Fury dripped from Jonathan’s words.
Shock rendered her silent for a second. “I . . . I wanted to see you. However since I see I’m not welcome, I will make my way back home.” She spun around and fled from the room.
Tears burned her eyes as she made her way through the gaming tables. Everything her uncle had said about Jonathan was right. Now that he’d bedded her, he’d lost interest. After declining to meet her in Hyde Park, she should have realized he had finished with her. She’d made a fool of herself by coming here.
“Wait,” he called out when she stood steps away from the front door.
The desperate sound of his voice sent chills up her spine. Although she wanted him to say she’d been wrong and that he welcomed her presence, she knew the truth and wanted to leave before the agony of his rejection overwhelmed her.
“There is no reason to prolong this,” she forced out, not looking back. “I may have missed the hint, but I see clearly now.”
“You misunderstand. I’m not discarding you.”
Rage burned off the unshed tears as fire burst through her body. Whipping around to face him, she threw her shoulders back and ignored his apologetic face as she glared at him.
“Really? What do you call this? You have no idea what I had to do to get here tonight. Then you send me away without a—”
He pressed a finger against her mouth, silencing her and forcing her to draw in her breath. She’d been so angry, she hadn’t realized he’d gotten so close.
As he sighed, his eyes softened. “You showing up here brings me such joy.” His fingers stroked her cheek. “I’ve been thinking of you all day, wishing I would have canceled my plans in order to see you this morning.”
Her skin tingled as his fingers continued down to her neck and shoulders. The urge to close her eyes and lean into his caress overwhelme
d her, but she kept herself rigid. His sugar—filled words were a direct contradiction to his frosty welcome.
“If you are to be believed, you have no skill with how to treat a woman.”
His low chuckle brought warmth to her cheeks. “I know exactly how to treat an unattached woman. A betrothed one, however, poses a problem for me.”
She reared back, stunned by his admission. Although she firmed her decision regarding Lord Dudgery this morning, she had not informed anyone. She would address that tomorrow. Tonight, she longed for one last night of freedom.
“What makes you think I am spoken for?”
“I ran into your cousin earlier today. He informed me of Lord Dudgery’s proposal and your family’s happiness with the alliance.”
Catherine stood there with her mouth open. She couldn’t believe Kenneth had taken it upon himself to spread erroneous news about her. Whether her cousin targeted Jonathan or openly informed everyone he crossed, she didn’t know, but the result remained the same.
“He’s right except for one minor detail.”
“Which is?”
“I haven’t accepted his suit.” She lifted her chin.
“But you intend to.” It wasn’t a question.
“Not now.” She shrugged. “Not tonight.”
His face appeared torn, which didn’t provide her with the reaction she hoped. Dejected, she refused to remain standing here watching his indecision. If he wanted her, he would harbor no reservations.
“I’m sorry I disturbed you.” She cringed at the hurt she heard in her voice.
Immediately his distrusting attitude fell, and he reached out and swept her into his arms. Although she didn’t want attention given out of pity, she laid her head against his chest, unable to deny the pleasure of being in his arms one last time. His warmth surrounded her as the smell of brandy mixed with a scent inherent to him invaded her senses.
When his hand lifted her chin and his lips crushed hers, fire singed her from the inside. The kiss sent flames of desire through her and brought out an intense urgency. Too long had she survived without this. Gripping his shirt, she pulled and tugged at the fabric, wishing it anywhere but separating them. She wanted to see him. To touch him this time.
He drew back and plucked her fingers from his shirt, but he didn’t release her. Unwilling to accept that this would be the last part of him she experienced, she pulled her hands free of his and grabbed his head, pulling his mouth back to hers. He didn’t resist, but the kiss ended much too soon.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm.” He ran one finger down the side of her face. “But there is no reason to rush.”
Realizing he didn’t intend to allow her to leave, her body almost melted in relief. His hand encircled her fingers as he led her back to the office they’d vacated. As soon as the bolt slid into the lock, he turned around and leaned against the door.
“Well, you came to see me, and you’ve accomplished that. What else do you desire?” His gaze moved from her head down to the tip of her toes.
“You’re mistaken,” she corrected, feeling empowered by the fire in his eyes. “I haven’t seen you, at least not all of you.”
She trailed her eyes down the length of his body, emulating his perusal of hers. His answering smile filled her with excitement. He kicked off the door while he lifted his shirt from his trousers.
“True. However, I have rules for this situation.”
“Which are?” Her mouth dried as he unfastened the top button.
“To begin with, I never undress for ladies who won’t do the same for me.”
“Oh,” Catherine squeaked, unsure if she could comply. The idea of standing unclothed in the middle of the room disturbed her. However, watching his hands stop just as a small amount of flesh peeked out dissolved her discomfort. “What other rules?”
“I require your full, unquestionable trust.”
“Done.” She already trusted him with everything inside of her.
As his hands continued their task, he lifted a challenging eyebrow. Following his example, her fingers fumbled with the buttons on her dress, grateful she wore an outfit she could remove herself.
Her eyes never left his progress, and by the time he finished, she only managed to unfasten two buttons. She stopped. Waiting for the fabric of his shirt to part, but he held it closed. Confused, her eyes met his.
“Your sluggish pace indicates you have no intention of following through with the rules.” His eyes sparkled. “I believe you need my assistance.”
Remaining silent, she waited as he stalked toward her. When he reached for her dress, she grabbed his shirt and yanked it from his shoulders. With his arms tangled in his sleeves, the expanse of his chest became available to her.
She tentatively stroked her fingers across the light dusting of hair covering his sculpted muscles. Her breath caught as she felt the rapid beating of his heart that matched the rhythm of her own. Absorbed in her exploration, she didn’t realize he’d freed his arms and unfastened her dress until he tugged it over her head.
Tossing the dress aside, he leaned back on his heels and gave her a smug grin. Unconcerned with his attitude, she circled him, examining every angle. Her body tingled as she trailed her fingers along the smooth texture of his skin. When behind him, she leaned forward to breathe in the heady scent of him. Giving in to the urge, she pressed her lips against the flesh on his back. His heat seeped into her, robbing her of breath.
“Have you seen enough?” he asked, his voice raspy as he faced her. “Because it’s my turn.”
He grabbed at her chemise, but she spun away from him before his fingers could close around the fabric. His answering growl didn’t sway her. Her body felt too alert, too inflamed to remove her last bit of protection. She wanted his trousers off before he touched her and stole her wits.
“I must say, I’m quite disappointed.” Jonathan crossed his arms, displaying his muscles more prominently.
She didn’t respond and instead took a deep breath and tore her gaze off his bare arms, and back to his face. Concentrating proved much harder than she thought. Just the simple sight of him reduced her to a panting heap of desperation.
“In all my years, I’ve never suffered such a reaction,” he grumbled.
“Well, you should accustom yourself to it. If you intend to break your own rules, I will not be the last woman who complains.” She refrained from wincing at the thought. It bothered her to think of him with another woman, but she knew the reality.
“Obviously we have a different interpretation of the rules.”
She shook her head. “No, they are clear. You agreed to undress, but you have yet to fulfill your promise.”
His lips slowly curled upward. “Tell me what you want.”
“Take off your trousers,” she whispered, unable to say the words any louder.
“Not my boots?” His voice held amusement, but she didn’t know what he found entertaining.
Ignoring his tone, her eyes fell to the article in question. “Then remove them first.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure I can manage without my valet.”
“You are jesting. The man who has spent the majority of his life in and out of women’s beds can dress and undress himself.”
He cast his eyes downward, as if embarrassed. “One would think so, but I fear I’m inept. Would you assist me?”
Looking into his earnest eyes, she couldn’t deny him. Although she didn’t understand how he managed to maintain such a reputation while accepting assistance undressing, she couldn’t see any help for it.
“What do you need me to do?”
His grin sparkled with mischief, making her wonder how he thought this would provide him an advantage. She shrugged. He must enjoy having a woman complete tasks for him.
“Come here.” He went to the sofa, sat down, and lifted one booted foot up. “Just pull. And make sure to brace yourself. I would hate for you to topple backwards and harm that delectable bottom.”
Still
unsure what his ploy was, she tentatively grasped his boot. After tugging, she realized she had a better chance of dislodging Jonathan from the sofa than the boot from him. Determined, she leaned over and clutched the offending item by the back and yanked as hard as she could. When the boot slid off, she glanced up at him to offer a smug smile.
Her smile froze on her face to discover what he’d gained from her task. His eyes fixed upon where the chemise hung loosely as she bent over his foot. He had cheated his way into seeing her bare chest before he removed his clothing.
Desperate to maintain some level of control, she straightened and moved on to the second boot. Although not as easy as the first, she managed to remove it without awarding him an opportunity to look at her again.
“All right. I’ve helped you. Now, take off your trousers.”
Jonathan chuckled as he stood. Catherine looked glorious in her thin chemise, her hair tousled, and determination shining from her eyes. He could hardly believe she’d come to him tonight, and he refused to waste one second of their stolen time together.
“I have never encountered a woman as demanding as you.” He shook his head in mock disapproval.
Her eyebrow rose as she put her hands on her hips. Clearly she would not be deterred. Keeping a close eye on her reaction, he placed his hands on the front of his trousers. He would have much preferred to strip her naked while keeping the layer of protection over him, but he felt as though he owed her this time. Their first encounter should never have happened the way it had, so he would offer reparations tonight.
After removing the last bit of fabric from his body, he tossed the material aside and straightened. Catherine’s eyes widened as they rested upon him. She didn’t move or say a word, and he wondered what she thought. Was she frightened or repulsed? He’d heard of women who were disgusted by the male form. Was she one of them?
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