Page 50 of An Affair with a Notorious Heiress
She nodded. “Yes.”
Sipping on his whisky, he seemed to mull that over. For some reason, the mulling irritated her. “And you?” she asked pointedly. “How many times have you been here?”
“I didn’t keep count. Although I’ve never spotted you, you must have seen me somehow. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have known I knew the whereabouts of this establishment and could in fact meet with you here.”
She had seen him. A few years ago. The first time she’d come. She’d been skirting the shadows of the hallway, working up her nerve to enter the parlor, when she’d seen him walk out of it with a woman on his arm. She’d stayed where she was until they disappeared up the stairs. “Your point?”
“This isn’t the sort of place where people come for aconversation. I think you chose this establishment because you hoped for more than that.”
“I selected it because it gave me more control of the situation. With a mask, no one will have recognized me. No one will know we are talking instead of—” She waved her hand toward the bed.
“Fucking?”
The crudity of the word was like a punch to the stomach. Was that how he had viewed the kiss? As a prelude tothat? Passion and desire had been no part of it. Had it been all lust and animalistic baser instincts? At that moment, she hated him, hated herself. “Do you want the stallion or not?”
“Not.”
The word was delivered like a shot from a rifle. Succinct. To the point. And had taken her completely by surprise. She was familiar with his racehorses. Had seen them run at various racetracks. Had even wagered on them a time or two. “But Black Diamond mated with one of your mares is certain to give you a winner. I don’t see that pretending to court Gina is much of an inconvenience. You were willing to do it before—”
“I’m still willing to do it. But now the price has changed.”
“What do you want in exchange?”
“You.”
Chapter 10
He was fairly certain that within the annals of horseracing history would be a footnote that indicated the Marquess of Rexton had been a complete and utter fool. When given the opportunity to breed one of the fastest and finest stallions in existence with his mare, he’d tossed it aside in favor of his cock.
Tillie—after the searing kiss they’d just shared he could no longer think of her in so formal a manner as Lady Landsdowne—stared at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Damn but he was anxious to explore that mouth again. He didn’t know if he’d ever tasted anything so sweet.
“Me?” she asked finally, as though insulted. She glanced over her shoulder at the bed. “There I suppose.” Swiveling her head back around, she glared at him. “You want to fuck me.”
He regretted now his choice of word earlier. He’d been keenly disappointed her reason for meeting him wasn’t the one he’d expected, that they weren’t already tangled in the sheets, lost to wild and untamed passion. “I want to have an affair with you.”
Again, she seemed surprised by his words. Did she think he was going to be content with one night, one coupling? Was that her usual method? Once with a gent before moving on? Once with a footman—within her residence by all accounts; once with a couple of gents here? The jealousy that ratcheted through him with the thought of any of those men touching her might have doubled him over if he weren’t sitting.
“An affair,” she repeated as though testing the word on her tongue.
“And not here.” He’d taken other women within these walls, but he didn’t want to bed her here. She was somehow different, in ways he couldn’t fathom or explain.
Her delicate brow furrowed. “Why not here?”
It gave him hope that she was considering his proposition. “It’s too tawdry.”
She tilted her head to the side as though the angle would allow her to decipher his meaning better. “But you’ve been with other ladies within this establishment.”
And she’d been with other men. Perhaps that was part of it. But more, he wanted with her something he’d never had. “I see no need for the games played within these rooms. I reside alone. You can come to my residence in an unmarked carriage—or I can send mine for you. Wear a hooded cloak. If someone figures out it’s you, it’s not as though your reputation will be sullied.”
“There is that, I suppose.” She took a swallow of whisky, tapped the glass. “Although I don’t want you bragging that you’re fucking me.”
Damn these Americans for their boldness. An English lass would have been shocked, but never repeated the word once, much less carrying on so. “I’m not going to be fucking you.”
She raised a finely arched brow. “Is that not the purpose of an affair?”
“I apologize for using the crass word in your company. I shouldn’t have. It was ungentlemanly and you are undeserving of such language. Trust me, when we are done, you’ll be glad to have been in my bed. Nor will I be bragging to anyone about it. It doesn’t serve your sister well if we’re not discreet.”
She nodded. “She above all is my concern. When you escort her somewhere, I will come to you the night following.”
