Page 62 of Their Master

Marie had always cautioned her children to behave with decorum around servants.Finding a decent servant is much more difficult than finding a wealthy protector, she’d said more than once.

Clearly things were different in Smith’s household because he’d appeared unsurprised by Luke’s presence, merely wiping the sweat from his face before directing the placement of the tray.

“Sherry? What an excellent idea, Luke,” Smith had praised, smiling up at his servant and seemingly not caring that he was sweaty, naked, and liberally smeared with both their juices.

“Thank you, sir.” Luke had been unperturbed, serving them without so much as a flicker of an eyelid.

Once Luke had gone, Smith had turned to her, his smile sly and his eyes hooded. “I hope you did not mind that Luke observed us.” He fed her a bite of shortbread, and then held the wine to her lips. “Good?”

Moira had swallowed obediently and said, “Delicious. And no, I don’t mind.”

His smile had grown. “Excellent.”

Shehadwondered what Luke thought of her.

You’re dithering, Moira. Knock on the door and get it over with.

She sucked in a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in,” Smith called out after a pause.

She opened the door and then froze.

Smith was naked, hanging from a bar, his body taut and sheened from exertion.

He was also erect.

Moira’s face scalded, as if she’d lifted the lid off a furiously boiling pot.

“Hello, Moira. I’m almost finished here,” he said in a strained voice.

She swallowed. Good Lord, he was… Well, she didn’t quite have a word to describe him. She’d seen him naked many times, of course, but never quite so… completely.

“Close the door and have a seat.” He lifted himself slowly and deliberately, the action causing a fascinating cascade effect on the muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen.

Moira gracelessly dropped into one of the two chairs that were on either side of the door, unable to look away. She’d been correct about people paying to watch him; he was mesmerizing.

Her mouth was producing more saliva than she needed for a week and her thighs were slick. She’d not had an orgasm since the last time she’d been with him. Indeed, those had been his last words to her.

“No playing with your pretty pussy while I’m gone,” he’d ordered, his words playful, but his eyes hard. “This is my cunt—mine alone.”

There was no way he would have known if her fingers had slid between her swollen lips after Luke had shaved her—how could he? —but she had obeyed his order just in case.

Moira saw he wasn’t looking at her but staring straight ahead at his reflection. Their eyes met in the glass and his lips curved, his body moving smoothly and regularly, just like a well-oiled machine.

“I like your eyes on me,” he said.

Moira knew he did; he was exceedingly vain.

It bothered her how attractive she found him, not only his body, but his personality, which was unique in her experience. Moira had been around wealthy, powerful men all her life and they had, almost without fail, been arrogant and rude. Not just to her, but to anyone subordinate to them. Yet Smith was one of the most courteous and polite people she’d ever met.

Thus far she had seen no sign of the cruel, brutal, and inhuman man her parents had described.

Although she had no proof—except her parents’ warnings—she sensed that something dark and dangerous lurkedbeneath his polite façade. Something that acted like a siren’s call on her.

Who was Maximus Nicolaides, really, and what was he to her mother and theComte?

But now was hardly the time for such distracting questions, so she pushed them to the back of her mind and stared at the man she’d come to seduce, manipulate, and betray.

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