by Darcy Burke
She ran her hands down his chest and it was his turn to gasp. Slowly, she tugged the hem of his shirt from his breeches. Her knuckles grazed his belly, forcing his muscles to clench. He twisted toward her hips, aching for the touch of something—anything—against his swollen cock.
Inch by inch, she pushed the shirt up his torso, exposing each new piece of flesh to the heat collecting between them. Her fingers danced along his skin, driving him farther, deeper into his haze of lust. The anticipation was near agony. It was, in fact, more acute than any pain he’d ever suffered.
He arched off the bed so she could sweep the garment over his head. He felt the breeze as the fabric left him. It stirred her delicious scent and he couldn’t stop himself another moment. He slid his tongue along her neck, knowing exactly where she was positioned because he hadn’t let her go. She shivered. He pressed his lips to the underside of her chin.
She hovered there, allowing his attention, but didn’t tilt her face down. Why wouldn’t she kiss him?
But then he felt the slide of fabric against his right wrist and he snatched it from her grip. “Now what are you doing?”
“Trust me.” She moved her head and ran her tongue along the outer edge of his ear. With soft lips, she tugged at his lobe and then sucked it into her mouth.
He quivered with need. It took her a moment to secure him, but he was too focused on the ministrations of her mouth and tongue.
Then she moved to his left wrist. This put the swell of her breast close enough to kiss. Jasper didn’t hesitate. He pressed his mouth to her skin, praying she’d remove his blindfold at some point so he could watch her undress. He opened his mouth and suckled at her flesh, drawing another gasp from her.
A moment later, she finished her work and drew away. Again, she ran her hands down his chest. It seemed she was in no hurry, and he couldn’t fault her. He wanted to extend their pleasure as long as physically possible. Her hands reached the waistband of his breeches and stilled.
Silence reigned, broken only by their rapid breathing filling the space. Need pulsed within him, between them. Unable to stand another torturous second, Jasper pressed his hips up, urging her to continue whatever she meant to do next.
She unfastened his fall. As each button came free, his blood heated and his pulse increased. The absence of sight and the inability to touch her with his hands sensitized the nerves in his flesh. Every time she brushed his small clothes or the surface of his belly, he moved his hips.
At last she stroked him. Lightly, perhaps inadvertently, but he groaned nonetheless. Then she pulled his breeches from his legs and except for his small clothes, he was completely exposed to her. He spread his thighs, inviting her to do as she wished.
“I’ll be right back.”
He frowned. “I’d like to watch you undress.”
“You said you trusted me, Saxton,” she said with a light, scolding tone. “I promise you will not be disappointed this evening.”
She had no idea what she asked of him, but he forced himself to relax. There would be other times for him to peel her chemise from her breasts.
The swish of her skirts, so alluringly clear to his hungry senses, faded for a moment. A bead of doubt infiltrated his sexual haze—had he been wrong to trust her? More silence. The doubt grew into a dark, fear-laden cloud. His desire began to fade.
Her footsteps, so light and soft, reached his desperate ears. The bed sagged as she straddled him, her bare knees pressing down on each side of his hips. She inserted her hand into the slit of his small clothes and palmed him. Lust jolted his slackening shaft, casting his disappointment aside as if it had never been. So good, except for the calluses…
She didn’t have calluses. Her palms had been soft when she’d tied his hands.
He pulled back from the hand stroking him, retreating as far as he could into the mattress.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t far enough. “Who the hell are you?”
Her fingers found him. “It’s me, Livvie.” The voice was too deep, too rough.
His desire fled completely and was replaced with cold rage. Everything about this woman from her touch to her voice to her name was all wrong. “You may think I’m helpless, but I assure you I’m not. Tell me where Olivia is.”
A heavy, gin-soaked breath gusted over him. “I guarantee you’d rather do this with me. Livvie doesn’t have my…skill.”
Jasper doubted that. Pointlessly, she stroked him again.
He pulled at his bindings, desperate to shove her hand away and remove her from his body. “Stop!” he hissed. If Olivia was nearby, he didn’t want her to know she was on to his scheme.
Her hand closed more firmly around his prick. “Who’s in control now?”
Her voice now penetrated his confused brain. The whore from the brothel the other night. What the hell was she doing here?
Jasper struggled against his bindings, but they were well tied. “Take off my blindfold and untie me. If you do it quickly—and quietly—I’ll give you five pounds.”
She tore the blindfold off him. Her gray eyes spat venom. “You cost me a lot more than that the other night. The madam was right furious with me. Threatened to kick me out on the street after you left. She’s given me the lowliest, cheapest customers since. I deserve a bloody sight more than five pounds.”
Working to take the edge from his voice, he modulated his tone. He needed her to let him go, not squeeze his prick to death—or worse. “Ten pounds, then. Do remember I’m an earl as you deliberate.”
Another gust of gin-soaked breath settled over him. “That’s more like it.” She set to work on his bindings.
When both wrists were free, he pushed her off him. “Cover yourself.” He held his finger to his lips, urging her to do so quietly.
Hastily, he drew on his breeches, his hands shaking with rage. “What was your plan?” he asked softly. “And keep your voice down.”
She refastened her dress. “After I shagged you, I’d get up to wash and then we’d switch back.”
Fury pooled in his belly and spread, filling him with vitriol. Olivia had duped him. Purposefully. Anguish mingled with his anger. Do you trust me? She’d lied with every word, every touch.
He pushed his anger out, toward the hapless slut. “This is fraud. I could drag you to the magistrate.”
She blanched. “Have mercy, my lord. I was only trying to make back the coin you lost me.”
“Go out and tell her you’re done.” He pulled two pounds from his discarded waistcoat and gave it to her, not because he wanted to, but because he felt bad for the plight he’d caused her. It wasn’t her fault she reminded him of lost love. He gave her a dark look. “Don’t warn her.”
She nodded jerkily. He moved to stand behind the door.
Tilly went into the hallway. Jasper leaned close to the wall. Their voices drifted through the crack near the hinges.
“Did he suspect anything?” The duplicitous bitch.
“No.”
“Thank you, Tilly. I’ll bring your share down later.” There was a pause, then, “Was he, that is…”
“Worth it? ‘Course. I told you you’d regret not doing him yourself.”
There was a loud exhalation then feet scraping across the floorboards. Olivia stepped through the doorway.
Jasper slammed the portal and flattened his back against it. He glared at her with the weight of his wrath. “If you don’t yet regret deceiving me, I promise you will.”
Chapter Four
SAXTON’S EYES were like frost, the flesh around his lips tight and drawn. Olivia moved farther inside and stepped around the table, putting the barrier between them. “Are you going to hurt me?”
He prowled toward her. “You attempted fraud. More disturbingly, you arranged for a stranger to assault me. Don’t you think you deserve some sort of punishment?”
God, she hadn’t thought of it that way. Her belly squeezed with nausea, her limbs shook with shame. She probably deserved something, but couldn’t bring
herself to admit it and put herself at his mercy. “No.”
“The law would disagree. I could send for the magistrate.” His body was rigidly calm, without visible sign of agitation, save the savage expression on his face.
Fear wouldn’t help her. She gathered her courage and squared her shoulders. “You could, but we don’t have a contract of any kind, especially if I return your payment.” She strode to the dresser and retrieved her mother’s box. With trembling hands, she withdrew his money and thrust it toward him. “Here.”
He accepted the bills and, without taking his gaze from her, set them on the table. “I don’t want a refund. I want you.”
Olivia moved back behind the table. “I thought a man like you would find one woman as acceptable as the next.”
Heat leapt into the ice of his eyes and his hands fisted. He stood silent a long moment during which Olivia’s heart tried to beat itself right out of her chest. “You couldn’t be more mistaken.” His tone was soft, but razor-sharp. “I’m disappointed you aren’t the least bit contrite, particularly after I helped you the other night. Not to mention your insistence that I trust you.”
Olivia cringed. He’d actually taken her words to heart. If she were in his shoes, she’d demand punishment too. “I’m…sorry.” It sounded pitiful even to her ears.
He shoved the table to the side, eliminating the barrier and stopping just before her. Though he didn’t touch her, he effectively pinned her to the wall. “Regardless, I did trust you. We struck a bargain, and now you are reneging. If you were a man, I would call you out.”
She knew enough of men and their honor to recognize that he wouldn’t hurt her, especially after what he’d just said. He felt betrayed, but she didn’t think he’d resort to violence to seek retribution.
His gaze bored into hers with savage intensity. He was terribly handsome, even in his fury. The already hot room sweltered with the heat coming off his bare chest. Facing him at dawn seemed a palatable notion. She was far more afraid of his ability to seduce her.
Olivia swallowed. “What are you going to do?”
“That depends.” Their impassioned breathing filled the apartment as she waited for his response, every one of her muscles tensely coiled. He speared her with a fierce stare. “Tell me why.”
Though she knew he’d be insulted, she gave him the truth. “I need money, and your offer is my only hope at present. But I didn’t want to lie with you.” She hadn’t, but now, after pretending to seduce him… She could well imagine lying with him. Probably would imagine it for many nights to come.
A blood-curdling scream from downstairs shattered the tension. Saxton pulled his gaze from her and looked toward the door. Another shriek. He spun about and exited toward the stairwell. Olivia followed fast on his heels.
He ran down the stairs, pausing on the third floor landing. The commotion seemed to be coming from the ground floor so they continued to descend, his bare feet smacking against the wood as he raced. Goodness, he was half naked, she realized. At the base of the stairs, they halted again. Another tenant brushed past them on her way up the stairs, her face white.
Saxton strode toward the open doorway leading to Mrs. Reddy’s apartment. The horrid sound of violence bled into the corridor. He disappeared into the apartment. Olivia didn’t want to follow him, but she couldn’t stop herself from confirming what she heard, the dull thud of flesh hitting flesh. How many times had she suffered the sight of Baron Landringham, her mother’s lover, striking her mother before that terrible night when he’d gone too far and Fiona had tumbled down the stairs?
Olivia stepped to the door and froze, paralyzed by awful memories playing out before her in the present. A large man with a round, angry face gripped Mrs. Reddy by her stringy hair. Blood streamed from her nose, and her face bore several wicked marks that were already blooming into bruises.
“This ain’t your business,” the man said to Saxton, who had moved close to them—too close.
Olivia’s heart thudded. Did he mean to intervene? She’d tried that once on her mother’s behalf, and had nursed a bloody face and several bruised ribs for her trouble. Still, she hoped he had courage where she didn’t.
“It has to be somebody’s business.” Lord Saxton sounded utterly calm, as if he stepped into such assaults with regularity. “I can’t allow you to kill this woman.”
“This ain’t your affair. Bitch owes me money. She’d rather drink the rent than give it to me. Ain’t that right, dearie?” The large man pulled on Mrs. Reddy’s hair, causing her to gasp sharply. Tears tracked down her battered face. “Now, take yourselves back upstairs and finish whatever you’ve got going.” He ogled Olivia. “Sorry to ’ave interrupted you.”
Saxton spoke quietly, dangerously. “I’m afraid I can’t do that until you leave this woman alone.”
“She doesn’t need your protection. She’s taken my beatings before. Knows it’s coming when she doesn’t have the rent.” To punctuate his statement, he slapped her across the face.
Olivia sucked in a breath, waiting for Saxton’s reaction. He leapt across the room and hit the heavy-set man several times. After all of the violence against her mother she’d been privy to, she ought to have yelled at Saxton to stop. But this was different. This was necessary. Saxton was saving a woman, not hurting one.
Mrs. Reddy drooped to the floor but didn’t crawl out of the way. Olivia rushed to her aid, dragging her to the side of the room.
The landlady shivered while Saxton continued to pummel the large man with vicious intent. Olivia’s blood chilled at how quickly he brought the other man to his knees.
Saxton pulled the man’s arm back at a nasty angle. “You’re going to leave and never return. Is that understood?”
“Goddamn you, I own this building!” the man ground out while trying to suck air into his heaving lungs.
“Is this true?” Saxton asked Mrs. Reddy.
She nodded. “He’s me husband’s brother.”
“Where’s your husband?”
“Long dead,” Mrs. Reddy croaked.
“How much do you owe this man?”
“Nearly twenty pounds.” She shook so violently, her teeth chattered.
Saxton shoved Mr. Reddy’s face against the floor then let him go. “How long will you give her to settle the debt?”
The large man turned, but didn’t stand. Perhaps he wasn’t capable. “Unless you want to pay, it’s none of your bloody business.”
Saxton glowered down at him. “I’m the Earl of Saxton. Anything I want is my business.” With his bare chest and naked feet, Saxton looked less like an earl and more like a warrior of old.
Mr. Reddy struggled to his feet with a nasty grin. “I can call the magistrate, if you prefer. ’E’ll just cart her arse to Newgate.”
“No,” Mrs. Reddy croaked.
“Can you pay him?” Saxton asked, his eyes glacial.
Mrs. Reddy shook her head, defeat dropping her already listless shoulders.
The earl frowned, lines furrowing his wide forehead. “I presume Mrs. Reddy has your direction. I’ll send payment in the morning.”
Mrs. Reddy straightened and looked up in surprise.
Olivia did the same. “You’re going to pay her debt?”
Saxton glanced toward them. “Yes, but now she’s in debt to me.” He looked back to Mr. Reddy. “Take yourself off. You’ll get what you’re owed in the morning.”
Mr. Reddy massaged his jaw. “You’ve a mean ’ook, my lord.”
Saxton’s hands fisted again, and Olivia wondered if he was even aware of it. “Be happy I went easy on you.”
Mr. Reddy nodded and left.
The tension coiling Olivia’s muscles dissipated. She helped Mrs. Reddy to a nearby chair. Scanning the apartment, Olivia found a bit of toweling and handed it to the battered woman.
Saxton came to stand before the landlady. “How did you come to owe him so much coin?” He sniffed, likely believing the answer was buried in the telltale reek of gin.
What else could it be?
Mrs. Reddy put the cloth to her nose and tipped her head back to look up at Saxton. “I gave most of it to me sister. Her husband died, and she’s got a son to feed.”
He massaged his right hand with his left. “Your brother-in-law seems to think you’re buying gin with the money that’s owed to him.”
Despite her bruised countenance, a flush was discernible on her skin. “Aye, I’ve a bit of a thirst, but I provide for me sister.”
“Why not tell him the truth?” Saxton asked.
“I tried to ask him for money once. Wouldn’t even part with a shilling. At first I just told him the tenants were shorting me, but he figured things out a few weeks ago.”
This must have been why she’d repeatedly increased the rent. Olivia pitied the poor woman’s sister and her fatherless child. She stared at her defeated landlady and suffered a stab of shame for judging Mrs. Reddy as ignorantly as others had judged her.
At length, Saxton folded his arms over his chest. His knuckles were reddened, and a few of them bled. “I’ll pay your debt, but I expect you to work it off.” He sounded dispassionate, but not judgmental. Olivia couldn’t help but respect what he was offering Mrs. Reddy. Which only served to make her attempted swindle all the more distasteful.
Mrs. Reddy blinked with her one good eye; the other had swollen shut. She smiled, revealing blackened gaps in the sides of her mouth. “Won’t mind that at all.”
Saxton’s lip curled. “At one of my estates. In the scullery or wherever your…talents might be best utilized.”
Mrs. Reddy sobered. “I don’t want to leave me house.”
Olivia couldn’t believe the landlady’s foolishness. “It isn’t your house. It’s Mr. Reddy’s. And if you don’t leave he’ll return and likely use you as a sparring partner again.”
She looked to Olivia, adjusting the cloth over her nose. “Not if I pay him, and Lord Saxton said he’d settle it.”
“Not without something in return,” he said smoothly, his eyes chilling to ice. “My charity only extends to those willing to work to better themselves.” It was a fair expectation from a seemingly benevolent man.