Page 6 of Only a Lyon Will Do
“Are you acquainted with him?”
An unladylike snort left her friend. “Only by his reputation. When it comes to women, he’s considered quite a rake. I heard he only recently took up a new mistress.”
“That doesn’t sound very promising,” Patience replied placing her hand on Cassandra’s arm. “Please be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. You know how I always land on my feet.” Cassandra turned away from the men below. “Let’s go try our hand at one of the tables. I’m feeling especially lucky tonight.”
Cassandra didn’t wait for Patience who continued to stare below at the man Cassandra clearly had feelings for. She shook her head thinking how unlikely it was that the two of them would come together. With thoughts of her friend occupying her mind, she left the balcony and entered the women’s gambling room but playing cards wasn’t appealing to her as she worried about Cassandra. Instead, she skirted around the tables toward the back of the room where she saw an area with stairs leading up and down to the other floors. Curiosity got the better of her and she made her way inside the alcove.
The sound of footsteps coming from above made her realize that the brothel was most likely on the next floor. She was about to turn around when she heard someone rushing down the stairs far too quickly. Moments later, a man came flying into her view as his feet flew out from under him.
To her horror, the man—grasping for anything to keep him upright—ended up latching on to Patience. She was taken about the waist as he ran into her, sending them both skidding on the marble floor. They avoided a tumble, thankfully, but they could not avoid an uncomfortably close embrace.
“Good heavens,” she murmured staring at the knot of his cravat that was greatly askew.
“You saved me from a most unpleasant fall, my lady.”
Patience shivered as she listened to the baritone of his voice as though the vibration of his tone went straight through her. She raised her eyes to see his hazel ones staring at her with what she took as a seductive gleam. A lock of his blond hair fell rakishly over his forehead, and he took a hand to push it back into place. A brief, unaccountable flicker of disappointment filled her that he had denied her the pleasure of doing the task herself.
It must be the blond hair… the shade had always been her downfall. She had placed her hands upon his muscular chest to steady herself, and she could feel the strength of him beneath her fingertips. If she were to guess, he was most likely magnificent beneath the linen of his shirt. Sculpted like the smooth stone of statues of the Greek gods. She shook her head from the thoughts of his naked body as the voice of reason entered her head and reminded her that she was still touching him.
She gave him a gentle push and she saw his own disappointment when he released her. She tried not to think about how handsome he was from his chiseled cheek bones to the slight cleft in his chin. She shouldn’t be interested in a man who obviously had just been upstairs with a prostitute. It just had to be those golden locks that were impairing her ability to think clearly.
“Thank you for releasing me,” she said quietly.
“Thank you again for saving me,” he said, and Patience swore his voice was even huskier than it was the first time he spoke these words. “Might I inquire as to your name?”
She widened her eyes at his request but shook her head no. “I don’t think that would be wise. Please excuse me.” She turned to leave but her gloved hand was gently taken into his warm one. His thumb ran over the back of it, and a thought crept intoher mind about how she wished she could feel his skin touching her own. She raised her eyes to his and her heart leapt into her throat.
“Please don’t rush off. How am I to find you again if I don’t know your name?”
“I’m certain mine is not the first woman’s name you don’t know here at the Lyon’s Den, sir,” she replied softly. She certainly didn’t want to become familiar with anyone when Mrs. Dove-Lyon was using her matchmaking skills to ensure Patience found a suitable husband. Cassandra had paid an abhorrent amount of money and she wouldn’t disappoint her dearest friend. Besides… what were the chances that it would be this exact stranger that the Widow of Whitehall had in mind for her? Hardly likely.
“No but then it’s not my custom to practically fall into a woman’s arms. It’s usually the other way around.” Though his tone was teasing, she could see for herself that he had charm and plenty of it, so he likelydidhave a number of women falling into his arms. But she would not be one of them.
“I will have to take your word for it.” A small laugh left her causing his smile to broaden.
“Tell me who you are.”
Patience wasn’t about to tell him her real name. Considering some preferred to use an alias here, she decided to do the same. “Do you really wish to know my name, or is this some sort of intrigue where you are now determined to get your way since I had the audacity to tell you no?
“Perhaps it is both.” He flashed a smile.
“And you seek a name,” she tilted her head questioning, a smile playing at her lips.
“Any name, my lady,” he urged taking a step closer.
“Any name?” she murmured with a touch of devilment building up inside her. Her eyes met his. “You may call me… Persephone.”
“Persephone,” he echoed, his smile widening.
Laughter escaped his lips and for just a moment she wondered what those lips would feel like on her own. She must be losing her mind and really should return to the ladies’ gambling room. She should leave his side. She shouldn’t continue to stay here with a man who was a complete stranger and most likely a rake of the worst kind.
But for whatever the reason—and the first time since she became a widow—Patience wanted this one moment to last for a bit longer. She had the notion after tonight she’d never see this man again anyway. She couldn’t figure out why but he intrigued her. Maybe there was a little bit of a wicked widow in her after all…
Chapter Five
Asher stared downat the vision he had physically bumped into. Clear porcelain skin was framed in a round face with hazel eyes with hints of golden flecks in them. Her brown hair was done in a pleasing enough fashion with ringlets hanging at the sides of her face. A sprinkling of freckles ran from under her eyes and across the bridge of her nose giving him the impression she must enjoy the sunshine unlike other women of Society who insisted on always using a parasol. But it was that little bow mouth that made him want to taste her lips. She was an enchanting surprise and he wondered where she had been hiding each Season since they had never crossed paths before to his recollection.
