Page 43 of Their Master

“To raise in an environment of safety and affection.”

Moira blinked, momentarily speechless.

He raised his eyebrows. “You look so surprised, Moira. Do you think I keep a big caldron in my kitchen for children?”

His whimsical answer startled a laugh out of her. “Would I be permitted to visit the child?”

“It is my hope that you would want to continue living here—whether we were lovers or not. After all, that would be better for the child than visits.”

Moira couldn’t think of a response.

“What have I done to make you think that I would deprive a mother the right to see her own child? Or that I would make my own child suffer the loss of its mother?”

Her face heated at his question. He was right—shewas the lying snake. Thus far he’d not lied to her—at least not that she knew.

“Why would you want to keep me around?” she asked.

“I am a firm believer in the necessity of a mother’s love.”

She almost laughed; he would change his mind in a hurry if he ever met Moira’s mother. But she understood what he meant, in principle.

“Do you have a loving mother?” she asked. Why not? He’d told her to ask questions.

It was his turn to blink, and the series of emotions that flickered across his face were so myriad and rapid, she couldn’t identify them all—but she recognized one: a pain so deep, raw, and wrenching it was like a punch to her chest.

“Yes, I did,” he said, his eyes lowering to his closed ledger for a moment. When he looked up again, his gaze was pleasant, his smile bland. “Anything else?”

Moira shook her head, not trusting her voice; what had happened to this man? Who had hurt him?

“It is a year of your life, Moira. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Moira said, not that she’d be with him even a fraction as long. “What should I call you?”

“Smith is fine.”

“JustSmith?”

He smiled. “Just Smith.”

Chapter 11

Smith rang the servant bell and less than a minute later the door opened.

Her new employer smiled warmly at the man who entered and then turned to Moira. “This is Luke Cooper and he will be your body servant.”

Luke bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Dunsmuir,” he said in a low, pleasing voice.

Moira nodded at the towering man, a flutter of excitement in her belly as she took in the vision of masculine perfection: well over six feet tall, heavily muscled, with the chiseled features, striking blue eyes, and cornsilk blond hair of a Viking.

And he was going to be her personal servant?

Moira had no issue being waited on by men; indeed, it would have been odd had she still possessed reservations about her body by this point in her life. Having a body servant—Moira smirked at the old-fashioned term Smith had used, which sounded almost biblical—as beautiful as Luke would doubtless be an enjoyable and titillating experience.

“Luke will help you freshen up, give you a tour of the house, and then bring Doctor Felson up when he arrives.”

Luke opened the door for her.

They walked in silence through the hushed house and Moira couldn’t help staring at the art on the walls, a great deal of which appeared to be erotic in nature.

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