Page 11 of Gentlemen Prefer Heiresses
She scrambled off the bed. When she reached him, she placed her hand on his arm and while it was as light as a butterfly landing on a petal, he felt it as though he wore no jacket, no shirt. “You’ll still pay her, won’t you? Even though we only talked, even though Madame Elise said there would be no charge. It’s not fair to Venus not to make any money after giving me her time.”
“I’ll see that she’s paid double.”Because they’d only talked.
The look of gratitude she bestowed upon him caused a funny, unfamiliar sensation—a tightening that wasn’t altogether unpleasant—in his chest.
She started to walk past him.
“Cover yourself with the hood.” While he’d waited in the parlor he’d spotted a couple of gents—one who had danced with her earlier in the evening—escort girls up the stairs. The last thing he needed was to have one of them exiting a room and spying her in the hallway.
When they were clear of the room, he was grateful when she took his arm and snuggled up against him as though she saw him as her protector. Although he was so far removed from being that he’d probably burn in hell. “You do realize you are never to tell anyone I brought you here,” he said, his voice low.
“It’ll be our secret,” she whispered back, and he wished he wasn’t bombarded with other words he’d like to have her murmur to him.
He led her down another hallway, this one narrow and short. A behemoth of a man stood guard outside a door. Andrew handed him a coin. The bloke nodded once before opening the door for them.
Andrew escorted Gina inside. When the door closed, they were engulfed in darkness save for a single pinprick of light. The rule for this room was that it was for private viewing so he knew they wouldn’t be disturbed.
“We must be very quiet,” he told her, his voice merely a whisper of sound. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness so he was able to see her silhouette nod. He guided her toward the peephole. “Look through there.”
Leaning in, she peered into the next room. With a gasp, she jumped back, her elbow jabbing him in the ribs. He bit back his grunt.
“There is a man and woman in there,” she whispered harshly, quickly, the words running together. “Nude.”
She sounded absolutely horrified. “What were they doing?”
“Sitting on a bed.”
“You said you wanted to be educated.”
“You’re not implying I watch them.”
“I am.”
“That’s unconscionable. To spy on people—”
“They want you to.” He shrugged. “Well, at least he does. That’s what he’s paying for. The gent to whom I gave a coin is going to knock on their door and let them know they have an audience. That’s what they’ve been waiting for.”
“Why would they want that?”
“He enjoys being watched, is thrilled by the notion of performing. They don’t mind if you look.”
“Have you watched couples?”
“When I was much, much younger, curious, and determined not to make a fool of myself during my first encounter.”
He heard her swallow. “You’re certain they don’t mind?”
“Absolutely certain.”
She eased back to the wall, leaned in. He moved nearer, lowered himself until his mouth was near her ear, near that pulse that so intrigued him.
“What are they doing?” he asked.
“Do you want to look?”
“No, I want you to tell me.”
She swallowed again. “They’re standing there, kissing. Not their mouths but each other’s throat and shoulders.”
