What the Groom Wants

by Jade Lee

  Radley was a duke!

  Meanwhile, Damon had his hand underneath her elbow, smoothly lifting her from her seat. “My apologies, gents, but I require the Green Lady’s attention for a moment. Sara here will keep you entertained.”

  Wendy stood. She had no choice, unless she wanted to make a scene.

  She tucked her thoughts away, forcing her mind to center on the here and now. She was walking with Demon Damon and could not afford to let her wits go begging.

  “Imagine, little Radley’s a duke now,” he said.

  “He was never ‘little’ to either of us.” He’d been older than both of them and taller as well.

  “But look how much we’ve both grown.” He directed her to the stairs, climbing until they looked down at the main floor of the hell. The smoke was not yet thick, so they could see the whole area. Damon preened like a king surveying his kingdom. A king and… Her mind stuttered for a moment, but the truth was hard to deny. Standing here like this, Damon proclaimed to the world that she was his woman.

  “Listen,” he said as he tilted his head to hear better. She had seen him do this often, but had never understood until now. From right here, she could hear nearly everything in the room. The rattle of dice, the murmur of conversation, even the slap of a card punctuated by the bark of a laugh. Or better yet—from Damon’s perspective—the groan when a man lost.

  There was a rhythm here: a cadence and a beat, like the workings of a great beast. And Damon was the one in charge. He was the one who controlled the lifeblood of money and information here.

  Wendy leaned against the railing, feeling the power in a way she never had before. The hell was alive, and she stood beside its brain. Damon didn’t even move when he spoke. If she hadn’t been looking, she could have imagined the words came from the air itself.

  “Have you seen him since he docked?”

  “Radley Lyncott?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes.” She never lied to Damon; it was too dangerous. But she also rarely told him the full truth. “He visited my brother when I was at home.”

  “Did he know about his inheritance?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “So he saw you before even visiting his mother.”

  She flinched, startled that he had been that perceptive. “He did not come to see me. He and my brother…”

  He waved her into silence, uninterested in her evasions. “Look around you, Wendy. This is my world, and I have two more like this.”

  And brothels as well. Not to mention a couple of thieving rings. Damon had his hands in any number of pies.

  “I have wealth larger than any dukedom, and I’m more powerful than Prinny.”

  “That’s treason!” she cried, stunned that he would match power with the crown, even in words.

  He shrugged. “It is the truth. I have more money than the regent, more influence, and a larger circle of people who flow through my doors.”

  She turned away, disturbed by his words, but excited too. After all, she would never stand beside Prinny and banter with him. But she was here with Damon.

  “What has Prinny done for his people?” he continued. “What does he do that improves anyone’s lot?”

  She snorted. “What do you do but line your own pockets?”

  He turned to look at her, his expression sad. It startled her to see such emotion haunt his face.

  “You do not know me as well as you think,” he said. “I am not a monster. I never have been.”

  She shook her head, unwilling to believe anything he said.

  He huffed out a breath. “I have never lied to you. I have treated you honestly, and I take nothing from anyone that is not freely given.” He gestured to the floor below. “What need do I have to steal? They are eager to spend their blunt.”

  “What of your whores? I have heard of your initiation rooms.”

  His eyes narrowed in anger. “I have never forced a woman in my life. There are whores enough that come begging to my doors. I give them fair coin and a safe place to work. Food and clothing as well. I even provide for their get.”

  She nodded, knowing it was true. “The children go to the thieving rings.”

  “Again, I give them food and shelter.”

  “But you know what they do.”

  He sighed as he looked at the floor. But she had the impression he did not see what was below. Instead, he was thinking of something else, remembering the past, perhaps, or envisioning a future that she couldn’t imagine.

  “I have made a place for myself and for countless others in this world. Prinny has done nothing but grow fat and disparage his wife.”

  Wendy had no response to that. She knew nothing of politics and cared even less. But she began to see Damon’s point. The world was filled with vices. He did nothing but profit from them while keeping his employees safe.

  There were other hells in London, but none were safe for a woman to work. In terms of the evil, Damon was perhaps the best of the lot. He was certainly the smartest.

  She shifted uncomfortably beside him, unsure of things she’d once thought were absolutes. “You didn’t bring me here to talk politics, Damon. What do you want?”

  “How is your mother?”

  “She is just fine,” she answered tartly, mostly because she knew his real question. Where will you go now that you have been tossed on the street? “She is packing. We will be sharing the home of…” Her voice trailed away, the truth hitting her hard. They couldn’t stay at the home of Mrs. Lyncott. Not if she truly was the mother of a duke now. The woman hadn’t liked Wendy when they were of the same social status. Now the social gap was too great.

  She swallowed and looked at her hands, trying to hide the panic. They were to leave their home by tomorrow night. Where would they go?

  “Wendy?”

  She didn’t look at him. She knew what he was offering, and more than anything, she didn’t want to say yes. She couldn’t! And yet, what choice did she have?

  He touched her chin, slowly drawing her to look at him.

  “Do you have a place to stay?”

  “Not yet,” she whispered.

  His hand was cool on her skin, and she shivered.

  “You know I have a place open for you two. Don’t let your fear of me put your mother on the street.”

  She wanted to say she wasn’t afraid, but it was patently untrue. She wanted to say she had friends and places to turn to other than him, but she didn’t—not for a place to live. Not on such short notice. Meanwhile, he continued speaking, his voice low and mesmerizing.

  “You are right to be afraid of me. I am a dangerous man. I have killed men and women without a second thought. But I want you, my Wendy. And when your brother was a fool in my club, I seized on the opportunity to pull you to my side.”

  So it was true. He had used Bernard to get to her. “I am nothing,” she whispered.

  “You are a very great deal. Smart, beautiful, and talented. Better yet, you have a practical nature. You see the shadows and don’t judge those who are caught in them.” He tugged her toward him, and she found herself powerless to resist.

  “I don’t judge them. But you are the one who creates those shadows,” she said, her voice tight with disdain.

  He arched a brow. “You don’t seriously believe me to be that powerful. I am merely a man. And one who wants you very much.”

  Her breath caught. Never had she allowed herself to be this near him. Tight enough to smell the mint of his breath above the harsher scents of tobacco and wine. Close enough to feel goose bumps prickle her skin as her knees grew weak and her nipples pulled tight.

  “Look deeper into me, Wendy. See me for the man I am, not the image I project to survive.”

  “No,” she whispered. Or she thought she did. She wasn’t sure, as it wasn’t a loud word. It certainly had no power to stop him as he closed the distance between them.

  He took her mouth, slanting across the lips that he’d a
lready prepared with his thumb. She trembled in his arms as his tongue slipped between her teeth. She was a woman unfamiliar with kisses. In truth, she’d rarely felt a man’s touch, and that was usually her brothers’ rough hugs. To have two such kisses in one day confused her. To be held in the arms of a man who terrified her was in equal parts horrifying and exhilarating. He wasn’t hurting her, and yet his arms tightened around her, and his mouth took control. She had little choice but to obey the orders of his body.

  He taught her what to do with her tongue, growling in approval when she began to thrust and parry with him. She felt him shift so that she was pressed backward against the railing, while his body pushed at her from the front. She felt the hard planes beneath his clothing. And she knew enough to be startled by the thick swell against her groin, especially as he pushed it against her in a frighteningly explicit rhythm.

  It was that movement that pushed her from arousal into alarm. She tried to break away, but she was trapped. The railing bit into her back, and there was no compromise from Damon in the front. In fact, when she pushed at his chest, he seemed to grow more powerful, more dominating. His mouth slanted harder across hers. His tongue pushed in with more frenzy. And below—sweet heaven—below he was big and aggressive.

  Rubbing her up and down with his thick cock, his desire drew a whimper from her. She was trapped, and all her struggles inflamed him. Her senses swirled, her fists beat him, but she might as well have been pounding at stone. It didn’t end until he pulled away. Until he eased back enough that she could twist her face away. But his body was still pressed so tight against hers that she could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

  “No,” she said. This time her voice was louder and stronger.

  “Come to my room,” he whispered, his own breath short. “I will treat you as a queen.”

  Her back seriously hurt, arched as she was halfway over empty space. She pushed at his chest, and this time he grudgingly eased back.

  “I am not a high flyer,” she said. She could not bear to look at him.

  “Did I ask to pay you?” he said, the humor in his voice making her cheeks heat. “What I meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” she said as she pushed harder. He did not move. “The answer is no.”

  He trailed his thumb along her cheek, and she turned away from the touch. He leaned forward to whisper into her ear. “I had not thought you a coward. Why do you run, Wendy? I will make all your dreams come true.”

  She snorted, her spine straightening as much as he allowed. “You know nothing of my dreams.”

  “Really? Shall I prove you wrong? You dream of a safe home for yourself and your mother. I offer you that at fair terms. You wish for a man to appreciate your talents and your intelligence. I do, Wendy. And you wish to know what other women know.” He raised his hand and boldly tweaked her nipple. She would have slapped him no matter who he was, but he stepped out of her reach.

  She bit her lip, feeling her mind swirl in darkening circles. Her body was aroused—she knew that much—but her heart beat like a terrified rabbit. This man was a demon, and her mind churned in confusion. She didn’t want to dance—in the most carnal way—with this devil. She didn’t! There had to be another way out.

  “I’m going to my table now,” she said as she pushed off the railing with shaking arms. He didn’t let her go far. She was still caged by his body, but he allowed her to straighten to her full height. Over his shoulder, she caught the sight of his guards standing there with blank faces. She knew that at a single nod from Damon, they would gut her like a fish. “Damon, you’ve had your fun,” she said. “Let me go.”

  “Where will you go tomorrow? Where will your mother sleep?”

  She closed her eyes. She didn’t know! And she had no time to figure it out.

  He finally bit out a curse. “One month free rent, Wendy. I offer that to no one else. And my men will move everything tomorrow.” He touched her chin, his fingers pinching tight as he pulled her to look at him. “Do not play the fool, Wendy. You know, if you refuse me now, I will be angry, and things will go worse for you.”

  Chilling words, and she felt the blood drain from her face. “And you wonder why I fear you?” she rasped.

  “I never expected anything less,” he said. “Shall I tell you a secret? You like the fear. It makes your heart race and your skin tingle. It draws you to me as surely as—”

  “A moth to flame?”

  He smiled. “I was going to say, a woman who knows a man who can satisfy her.” He folded his arms. “You are saving your virginity for what? One of those gentlemen?” He gestured disdainfully at the gamblers on the floor. “They are not worthy of you. An altar boy who will bring you posies and kiss you chastely on the cheek?” He rolled his eyes. “He will bore you and then betray you by cutting his association the minute he learns of what you did here.”

  “I have done nothing but deal cards.”

  He flashed a feral smile. “That is not what I will say.”

  She felt her cheeks heat. It was true, and she had known what he was doing when they’d walked up here.

  Meanwhile, he shifted to look laconically over the floor. “I believe I shall rent the flat to—”

  “I will take it,” she pushed out. What choice did she have, really? “For a month. Free of rent.” She swallowed. “With my thanks.”

  He sketched a mocking bow. “But of course. My men will be at your home first thing in the morning to help you move.” Then he waved a negligent hand at her. “You may go back to your table now.”

  She left, but her steps were slow and her mind whirled much too fast. What had she done?

  Four

  Radley was whistling as he crossed into the area where he’d grown up. He was blocks away from his mother’s rooms, but home was as much about the neighborhood as the place where he slept. He noted the small differences as he moved. One building had been painted. Another looked to have been scorched by a fire, but still stood. The biggest differences were in the people. It had been nearly eighteen months since he’d been here last. That was a long time for the neighborhood children who seemed to have grown like weeds. And they were all running toward him as if he had a treat.

  He did, of course, but not on him. They would have to wait until tomorrow for his surprise.

  “It’s Mr. Lyncott! ’E’s here!”

  “Mr. Lyncott! We’ve been waiting ever so long!”

  “Mr. Lyncott! Bet you’re surprised, ain’t ya? Ain’t ya? Imagine, you a nob!”

  Everything was spoken in a screaming rush, the children bouncing and running while women and a few men popped out of their doors.

  “Mr. Lyncott! Welcome home.”

  “Couldn’t have been for a nicer gent. Don’t you forget us—”

  “Don’t forget me!”

  “You remember, don’t you? How I helped with—”

  On and on it went, until he was rather dizzy. Certainly, the neighborhood always welcomed him home. They liked his tales of foreign lands, and all longed to see what new treasure he’d brought. But this was unusual, even for him. Old men he hadn’t seen in years were struggling from their seats to come see him. To shake his hand and bid him to remember them.

  And that was nothing compared to the women smiling warmly, showing off their assets in a way that made him blush. What was going on?

  “I’m not a captain yet,” he said, answering one child’s question. “Still just a first mate.”

  “No, you ain’t! Not anymore!” said one of the ladies with a throaty laugh.

  There was more talk. Something about being a duke, but he laughed that off. Neighborhood gossip was notorious for getting things wrong, and no amount of denial or correction would change what people believed.

  So he laughed and waved them off, promising to show them all his new treasure later. Then he mounted the steps to his mother’s lodging. Given the trail of people, all jabbering at once, he shouldn’t have been able to hear Sadie. But the gin sot
who kept her eye on everything that happened in the building wouldn’t let him pass through the front door without adding her particular form of address.

  “Welcome ’ome, Radley. Just off the ship?”

  He acknowledged her politely enough, not because he wanted to encourage the connection, but because it wouldn’t do to antagonize her. It would make his mother’s life all the harder.

  “Just home, so if you’ll excuse me. My mama—”

  Sadie touched him on the arm, her expression lascivious as she squeezed his biceps. “I always been good to you. Looking out after your mama and all. Don’t you forget me, you hear?” Her expression darkened. “’Course I know things too. Things that you don’t want spread about.”

  Radley frowned, startled by her veiled threat. What secrets did he have? And why did she think anyone would care?

  He disentangled himself from her clutches smoothly, irritated when he feared that her sharp claws would rip his coat. He saved the fabric—barely—then didn’t even bother bowing as he headed up the stairs. Then he frowned when he realized that Sadie had followed him. She was slower on the steps than he was, but at his look, she flashed him a grin. Then she tugged her neckline lower.

  He winced at the woman’s sorry state. Certainly, he’d availed himself of many a whore back when he’d first started sailing. But that had never been his first choice. Strong drink was his vice, not women, and only when he was on liberty.

  He turned away to knock loudly on his mother’s door. “Mama? It’s me, Radley. Home from—”

  His mother hauled open the door. She was standing there in a new gown, her hair pulled into a neat coiffure. And when she saw him, she burst into tears. He blinked, rather startled, then immediately dropped his satchel to enfold her in a warm hug.

  “There, there, I’m home. I’m safe.”