To Capture a Rake

  “It’s been far too long, my dear,” he said with a hint of admonishment.

  “Yes, my lord.” Her breath came out husky, pleading as she toyed with the pearl buttons running down her muslin bodice.

  He resisted the urge to laugh at her obvious unease. In the bedroom was the only time when he was considered a lord. He pulled the pin from her bonnet and tore the monstrous hat from her head. Her brown hair fell in waves around her shoulders. She gasped in mock dismay, as if she hadn’t a clue he would do the deed. Their time together was an orchestrated dance. He led, but she happily participated.

  He tossed the hat and pin to the ground and reached for his silky necktie. With deft movements he had the cravat undone and let the ends hang threateningly from either side of his neck. She shivered as her gaze focused on his hands. Large hands covered in scars from the many knife fights he’d gotten into as a lad. A reminder of his past. But when he was inside a woman, his past no longer mattered. He became merely a man. He could forget, at least for a moment, his life.

  With a growl, he spun her around so her back fit to his chest. Pressing his lips to her sensitive neck, he slid his hands from her waist, up to her breasts, cupping the soft mounds. He could feel her nipples harden even through the bodice and corset she wore. She was more than eager.

  He rubbed his thumbs over those hard pebbles. “Are you ready for me, my dear?”

  “Oh yes,” she whispered, arching her back and shifting her bottom so it pressed to his hard cock.

  How he despised the thick layers of clothing women wore. The yards of material were a hindrance, making life much more difficult than it needed to be, not to mention rather pointless in his line of work.

  Lady Pen panted like a dog that had been left out in the sun. Aye, she wanted him desperately, but they all did. He held her to him with one hand, and with the other, he gripped her bodice and jerked the material low enough that her breasts popped free, those rosy nipples pinched and waiting. She would not fight him; they never did. He spun her around and took one of those peaked buds into his mouth, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin.

  “Oh my.” She shivered, her fingers slipping through his hair and pulling almost painfully.

  But Gideon waited…waited until she was squirming in his arms, waited until his body burned with a hunger he couldn’t ignore. Only then did he pull away just enough to scoop her up into his arms. Lady Pen liked him to be rough. Most of his women did. They knew exactly what they were getting when they paid for his services.

  He tossed her to the bed. She bounced, before settling comfortably upon the deep red blanket. An excited glee sparkled in her brown eyes. He ignored it. Ignored her eager body, her glistening lips. He ignored everything and concentrated on his own need…delving into that desire and forgetting. Forgetting his life. Forgetting his past. Forgetting his future.

  He need not spout any romantic drivel, thank God. The women he slept with did not pay to be courted, they paid to be taken. He moved onto the bed, his knees and palms sinking into the tick. She wanted it rough, he’d give her rough. Like an animal on the prowl, he crawled over her. Her lashes fluttered with desire, her breath catching.

  Gideon found the hem of her gown and jerked it up to her knees, exposing her long, long legs. Pristine white stockings hugged shapely calves. She might not have red hair and a lush body, but she was an attractive woman and she would do well enough. He slid his fingers along the inside of her leg, her skin pebbled. She wore no undergarments, but he wasn’t surprised. The fewer clothes the better, in his opinion. She whimpered, her hands moving around his broad shoulders, fingernails biting through the fabric of his waistcoat and shirt.

  Demon Spawn, they called him. They liked making love to a beast. When women wanted excitement, they visited him. When they wanted to have fun, they’d gone to Alex. When they wanted to be loved, they went to James. All three of them had been brought to Lady Lavender’s at the same time, yet were so very different in temperament. But he…he was the one who was untamed, wild. Someone who touched that utterly sinful piece that lay hidden within.

  He slid his hands up her thighs, his thumbs so close to that hot, wet center. With a growl, he pulled the ribbon of her garter free, ripping the fine material in the process. She could afford a new one.

  “Oh, Gideon,” she whispered, moving her arms around his neck.

  “No touching.” He latched onto her wrists and pinned them above her head. But that shock in her warm brown eyes quickly turned into excitement. This is what they paid him for…to be the one in charge. To be the man they dreamt of. To be the evil they craved. He was more than happy to oblige.

  With one large hand, he kept her wrists pinned; with the other, he jerked the necktie from his throat. Her breath came out in harsh pants that lifted her fine cleavage. With deft movements, he wrapped his cravat around her wrists, securing them to the spindles of his headboard. The woman shivered, but he knew this time it wasn’t from fear.

  Gideon narrowed his eyes. “You’re well aware that only I do the touching. You’ve been a naughty lass.”

  “Please, be kind,” she whispered, licking that plump lower lip.

  But he was never, ever kind. It was why they returned for more. They sensed the bastard within, the sinful part they craved but tried to hide. With a wicked smile, he grabbed a curl that had come loose from her pins and wrapped it around his hand, tugging her head back almost painfully and exposing her pale throat. Her full lips parted on a cry. An image of that mouth around his cock sent heated fire through his veins. All in good time.

  “Prepare to be punished,” he whispered near the delicate shell of her ear.

  A soft knock sounded on the door. Gideon drew back, more surprised than annoyed. He’d been working for Lady Lavender for almost fourteen years, and not once had someone interrupted while he’d been entertaining. It must have been something serious indeed. A house fire? Lady Lavender’s death? He could always dream.

  “Gideon?” Lady Pen questioned, obviously as confused as he.

  “Be still,” he snapped, leaving her and moving across the room. A bedchamber of red and black, a den of sin. Although he scoffed at the ridiculous décor, he could admit to himself that he appreciated the silken sheets, the plush carpeting, the marble fireplace. He’d become sadly used to a life of sex and luxury, as much as he was loath to admit it.

  The soft knock sounded again. Gideon wrapped his hand around the porcelain knob and jerked open the door, stunned to see Lady Lavender standing there, Thomas lurking behind her.

  He gave the man a dismissive glance before focusing on his employer. “What?” he growled. “I’m with someone.”

  Was it his imagination, or did she seem slightly pale? “I am aware.”

  “Gideon?” Lady Pen called out softly, hesitantly.

  “Quiet,” he growled over his shoulder.

  Lady Lavender’s eyes flashed with what could only be annoyance. She didn’t like how he treated the women, but she also knew it was what they paid for and so she reluctantly allowed it. She had no other choice.

  “You have a new client.”

  “Now?”

  She nodded.

  “Lady Pen—”

  “I’m in charge,” she hissed the stark reminder. “Remember that.”

  He narrowed his eyes, completely unimpressed with her warning. “Go to hell.”

  He found great amusement in the way her jaw clenched, her pale cheeks flushing. She wouldn’t argue with him when she knew very well that Lady Pen could hear every word they said. “Please head to the parlor. Thomas will finish.”

  Gideon braced his hands on either side of the doorway and leaned close to her. She smelled like lavender. He’d liked that scent at one time, but now he despised it. “She doesn’t want Thomas.”

  “She will,” Thomas gloated with a smirk. “And she’ll want even more when I’m done with her.”

  “Silence,” Lady Lavender snapped.

  Thomas flushed, but coward tha
t he was, he kept his mouth shut.

  Gideon glanced back at Lady Pen, spread out on the bed like a Christmas goose. She was watching them with confusion and yes, excitement. The fact was if Thomas, a man she barely knew, took his place, Lady Pen would probably be thrilled. Strangers were always titillating for women like her. But Gideon also didn’t like doing as Lady Lavender demanded. Once in a while, just a few times a month, he liked to remind her that she wasn’t completely in control.

  “Gideon?” Lady Pen called out, and he could hear the rattle of the bedposts as she tried to free herself.

  Bloody hell, this was growing tiresome. If Thomas wanted the woman, he could have her. Without a word to anyone, Gideon shouldered his way between Thomas and Lady Lavender and headed down the hall. The new client must have been important for Lady Lavender to interrupt him. She prided herself on catering to the ton. Prided herself on keeping her business as well run as any man. Very professional indeed.

  He moved past the many closed doors; some rooms were silent, others contained low moans and whispered words of love that the client could believe…for a short while. Was this new woman wealthy? Influential? He could imagine the ice queen now, a woman who was in complete control in her household but wanted a man in control in the bed. He’d seen them before. Bored with their privileged lives. A husband who was no doubt older, fat in the middle, dismissive of his wife.

  Gideon didn’t bother to straighten his shirt or repair the buttons on his waistcoat. His slightly disheveled state would only add to his rakish appeal. Although he did glance in the gilded mirror placed at the top of the steps for such purposes.

  He rarely looked at his reflection, the cold, gray eyes someone he didn’t recognize. It made him uneasy in some way. How nervous he’d been when he’d first arrived. While other young lads had been more than eager to sleep with a woman and know the primal pleasures of sex, he hadn’t. He’d been terrified. Now sex was something he craved, for it was the only thing that kept him from dwelling upon his past.

  “Gideon,” James called out in merry greeting as he climbed the steps. “Did you hear from Alex?” He grinned. “His daughter sounds adorable.”

  “Sod off,” Gideon muttered, tearing his gaze from the mirror and brushing past him.

  The man and his jovial moods were the worst of it. The three of them, Alex, Gideon, and James, had been brought here under Lady Lavender’s spell. James, the idiot, was the only one who accepted his fate as if it was a gift. And Alex was the only one who had managed to escape. They were all here for a reason, all hiding from something or someone. Although they’d bonded out of necessity, in this brothel no one was close. Still Alex wrote them. He rested his hand on the smooth wooden banister. Why, he wasn’t sure. If he ever left, he’d break all ties to this hell.

  And although Alex’s letters annoyed him, still, he read them like a man addicted to opium.

  Hope took her first step today.

  Of course she had.

  Grace’s mother has moved into the cottage and is living with us.

  The perfect and happy family. Good for them.

  When will you leave, Gideon? I escaped, you can as well. We can have it all. We don’t need to live in the shadows of our pasts.

  But Alex didn’t understand. No one did. His past was a parasite that had burrowed deep within, and it would never release its hold.

  Do not ever give up hope. One has no idea what the world holds in store. Who knows, perhaps you’ll find a life someday outside the walls of Lavender Hills.

  If only the man knew the truth. He had no choice but to reside in this hell.

  Alex’s letters always put him in a foul temper, but there was no way to work off your pesky emotions like tupping. At the bottom of the steps, he turned left and started toward the parlor. The place was quiet in the evening when most women were preparing for a night of socializing. Morning was their busiest time of day. Husbands slept late and wives snuck out, supposedly shopping.

  He shoved the door open and paused. The room was small, an area merely for waiting, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t richly decorated. His gaze moved over the blue sparrow wallpaper imported from France, pausing at the marble fireplace. A man stood near the glowing hearth. Hearing Gideon’s approach, he turned to face him. He was dressed in a fine but plain suit.

  Gideon was far from an expert on the male species, having spent most of his time with women, but he seemed to be a gentleman, although not titled. Young, with blond hair and brown eyes. Gideon frowned. Lady Lavender was apparently expanding her empire to include the pleasuring of men. He sure as hell was not one to judge what people did behind bedroom doors, but he had no interest in the male species.

  “Sorry, but you’ll have to find another.”

  “What?” The man’s face went brilliant red. “No.” He shook his head and mumbled something under his breath that sounded deceptively like cursing.

  “You’re here for me.” A velvety feminine voice called to him softly. A husky voice that instantly made him think of the bedroom, of sleek bodies moving as one…

  Curious, Gideon turned. A woman stood near the light blue settee. Brilliant red hair curled from beneath her small straw bonnet, and he swore in the air hung the lightest scent of lilac. The woman from the foyer. A jolt of attraction flared through his body. She wore netting over her face, hiding her features, as most visitors did. Although it had never bothered him before, for he knew why they covered themselves, he was oddly curious about her eyes. Would they be a warm and rich amber? A brilliant blue?

  She took a hesitant step forward. “You will be going home with me.”

  Gideon had been surprised more than once today, but this shocked him to the core. Never had he been hired out. Leave the estate? He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Lady Lavender didn’t trust easily and liked to keep him close. She had her reasons, as in his youth he’d tried to escape more than once. He narrowed his eyes and scanned every soft curve of her body. Those lovely breasts strained against her bodice, the narrowness of her waist and flare of her hips accentuated her feminine body. Money or power? Which did this woman hold over Lady Lavender?

  “Very well,” he said noncommittally.

  The woman wrung her gloved hands, obviously nervous, or was it an act? “You have no questions?”

  He settled into the wing back chair next to the fireplace and relaxed, crossing his legs at the ankles. Something odd was most definitely occurring. “The only thing that matters to me is what’s underneath your skirt.”

  The man near the fireplace sucked in a harsh breath, showing his displeasure. The woman’s elegant neck grew a brilliant red that crawled painfully slowly upward and he supposed, into her cheeks. “Mr. Smith, might you leave us alone for a moment?”

  The man stiffened. “Mrs. Ashton—”

  “Please,” she implored.

  He frowned, this Mr. Smith, but grudgingly left the room. So, the woman was in charge. But apparently she didn’t want to be in charge in the bedroom. Why else would she choose him? It made sense now. Was she a widow and this Mr. Smith her man of business? Or had he been her lover and she had grown bored with his gentle touch?

  “You will be gone a fortnight,” she said, pacing the small room. “I suggest if you have anything of importance, to bring it with. Clothing can be purchased. I prefer to leave as soon as possible.”

  A fortnight? More than wary, he remained silent, watchful. Curious indeed.

  She tilted her head nervously toward the door, and back to him, almost as if she couldn’t wait to get the bloody hell out of there. Perhaps it was instinct, but he knew in that brief moment that she’d never visited Lady Lavender before. Had probably never been intimate with anyone but her husband.

  “I…I assumed you’d want to gather your things. And because our trip will be somewhat long, I prefer to get started now.”

  Why? Why was Lady Lavender allowing him to leave when she never had before? This client either held something over the woman, or th
ere was a hidden agenda. He didn’t trust Lady Lavender and he sure as hell didn’t trust this woman who acted more innocent milkmaid than seductress.

  “It’s very uncommon for Lady Lavender to allow a man to leave the estate,” he said softly, drumming his fingers against the arms of his chair. “Let alone for a fortnight. Let alone me.”

  “Why not you?”

  She seemed genuinely curious. “She doesn’t trust me.”

  “Should she?”

  He didn’t even pause. “No.”

  He expected shock; he hadn’t expected her to find amusement in the situation. The woman actually threw back her head and laughed. She wasn’t intimidated by him at all. Gideon wasn’t sure if he should be intrigued or annoyed.

  Bemused, he uncrossed his ankles and stood. “I’m glad you find my situation amusing.”

  “I do apologize,” she said, fighting her smile. “But I quite respect a man who can answer a question truthfully.”

  He found her disgustingly charming, and wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

  She straightened her bonnet, getting down to business. “If you’re as eager to leave as I, I suggest we go.”

  So that was it then? He had an odd, unsettling feeling that he had lost his footing. As if she had somehow taken control. His entire body tingled with warning. He didn’t trust Lady Lavender. He didn’t trust this woman, and he didn’t trust the situation.

  “No testing of the wares?” he asked casually.

  He knew with one kiss he’d have her trembling in his arms, and the power would be once more back in his hands. If she thought to play him the fool, he would show her he was not so easily trifled with. He would show her exactly who was in control.

  She paused, her body utterly still. “Whatever do you mean?”

  But her voice came out raspy, a sure sign she knew exactly what he’d asked. The corners of his mouth twitched. He found great pleasure in disarming her. “Most women at least want a taste. What about you, Mrs.…”