Page 12 of A Dark and Stormy Knight
“No…” she whispered. “No, you’re no hero.”
He could do little else than hold his breath, his every sense hanging upon her next words. What would be her verdict, he wondered? Would she compliment or condemn him?
“You’re an angel, aren’t you? An archangel, perhaps. Or a fallen one? A warrior…” she decided. “But… for which side?”
“I’m no angel,” he warned. “I’m nothing but a shadow.” Morley hated to disappoint the fanciful woman, hated to dispel whatever magic she was weaving through him with her touch. But it was better he told the truth. Better for them both.
“How ridiculous of me, I beg your pardon. I’d like to say that I’ve been caught up in all this fantasy, but it’d be a lie. I’m like this all the time.” At this she gave the ghost of a giggle, and the sound was more pleasant than the rush of the fountain beneath which they’d fallen. “You’re a very solid shadow, sir, if I may say so.” Her gaze finally focused to resolute. “How much?”
He frowned. “How much?”
“How much?” she encouraged meaningfully with a thrust of her sharp chin. “For you? The—er, footman told me to select any one of the Stags of St. James who were not previously engaged. And I’ve decided upon you. I want to make love to you—or rather, I want you to make love to me. But only i-if you don’t have other women—er—plans. I mean, that is, prior engagements.”
“Prior engagements?” he echoed.
Her hopeful features fell into a petulant pout. “Did someone already make an appointment at Hyde Park for tonight?”
“No,” he said carefully, wondering what to do next.
She brightened immediately. “Excellent. Then…tell me how this works. I’ve never…hired a man to make love to me before. And I confess I’m ignorant of how else to proceed rather than plainly. So, would you do me the kindness—er—the honor?”
Morley blinked down at her as three things had just become inexorably clear to him.
The first was this woman talked incessantly when nervous, and her babble was oddly endearing.
Second, she was from a wealthy family, likely blue-blooded and likely married.
And tertiary…he’d lived probably nearly forty years and had never met a woman he’d so keenly desired to fuck.
A hunger awakened within him with all the ferocity of a hibernating beast. It had teeth and claws and tore his decency to shreds before going to work on his restraint. His heart kicked at his ribs, which restricted in turn, relieving him of breath.
He was a moral man, goddammit. Lawful and without prejudice or vice. He’d lived as a veritable monk for more years than he cared to admit, and there was good reason for it. He should bloody well stand up and take his leave of her. Right now.
Except, what if she didn’t go home? What if she lingered in search of a different stag?
That wasn’t going to bloody happen. He wouldn’t let it.
He could throw her over his shoulder and return her to her father. Her husband. Or whatever woebegone individual had the responsibility for her safekeeping.
He made to do just that when another variable struck him.
What if she returned tomorrow night? What if she took her pleasure with another man?
What if… he missed his chance?
The hungry demon within him snarled at this, raked his claws and expelled scalding fire through his veins like a hell-spawned dragon until Morley had to force himself to inhale and expel a protracted breath.
He was no kind of man to consider such a proposition. He was neither starving for coin nor lacking in romantic prospects.
No, this was ludicrous. Nothing more than a flattering fantasy.
He opened his mouth, preparing a gentle rejection. “What do you want me to do to you?”
His lips slammed shut. The question had ricocheted through his mind since the moment she’d asked him to name his price. But it’d been thelastthing he’d expected to escape his lips.
Blotches of color stained her pale cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “I-I’d like you to do…whatever it is women pay you for the most often.” She reached into her hooded pelisse and retrieved a satchel of coins. “The skill you’re most proud of. The thing that makes them come to you on a night like this.”
Morley didn’t know what womenpaidfor sexually, but he knew enough about people to reply. “A bird like you knows her mind. She don’t come looking for a man like me ‘less she has some idea of what she intends to get from the encounter.”
