Sweet, giving, lovely Jeanne. If only he could improve her lot. Then when he thought of her, he could picture her living in comfort and safety, not huddled in that depressing little garret. He could regain his former peace.
It was so easy a thing for him to improve her living situation, to provide the small house and carriage.
Why wouldn’t Jeanne just accept what he wanted to give her? It was all to her good and cost her nothing, for he expected and wanted nothing in return.
Violet’s broad, round bottom, squirming in his lap, brought his mind somewhat back to the moment. He should take her upstairs and give her a thorough tumbling. He would feel better afterwards, he always did. And then perhaps he’d even be able to catch a few hours deep slumber.
That was another thing that Jeanne had done. She’d made it completely impossible for him to sleep. His dreams were full of memories of her youthful body, her ecstatic cries, her tight little cunt hugging his cock. Such dreams would leave him aching, unable to go back to sleep or do anything but wonder what she was doing and if she were comfortable and safe. The disruption to his concentration was intolerable.
She'd been rather rude to his man of business.
Would she dare be so rude to David himself? He’d thought never to see her again but could she so easily turn down his offer if he visited her, just once, to present his case personally?
He lifted his glass and put it to his lips. It was empty, dry. That was a shock. He’d forgotten how much he’d drank tonight. And this idea to visit her might simply be a very illogical and emotionally dangerous seed born of intoxication.
She had torn his heartfelt and generous offer to shreds.
He’d never been dealt such an insolent blow. His hand tightened on the glass and he set it down.
Slam!
The violence of the sound shocked him back into the moment and the woman in his lap startled. “Your Grace?”
He touched her face, stroked her cheek in a distracted gesture meant to soothe. But inside, he was still seething.
No, by damn, that was it. He was going to pay Jeanne a visit and demand that she voice her refusal to his face. The decision seemed so fitting, so inevitable. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He reached into his pocket and withdrew a stack of pound notes, then tucked some of them into Violet’s low cut bodice.
She lifted one artificially arched brow.
He gave her a little nudge off his lap. “Not tonight.”
* * * *
Jeanne blinked sleepily. An apparition stood before her. An apparition reeking of stale brandy and cheap perfume.
David.
Here, after midnight. Maybe she was still dreaming. She leaned against the door, closed her eyes and shook her head. Determined to awaken fully, she opened her eyes.
He was still there. His dark blue cutaway coat and white satin waistcoat clung to his hard-muscled chest and flat stomach. A gentleman dressed for the evening and handsome as the devil.
A flash of lust tingled through her. Despite her sleepy mind, her nipples took notice and stood up. Her mouth dried with fear. Oh lord, he was trouble. More trouble than she’d initially anticipated. Disturbing her peace, her privacy. Drunk and reeking of some whore he’d likely bedded earlier in the evening at that! This was exactly why she had never let any of her lovers visit her at her garret. One inch given…
“I knew it.”
His lazy smile seemed to make his sensual mouth even more so. “Knew what, darling?”
“How did you get in here? They lock the door at ten.”
“The young maid was happy to allow me in.”
Jeanne scanned his handsome, well-attired form once again. Of course he’d persuaded Patty to let him in. Mrs. Pillmore would expect twice or maybe three times the usual percentage she demanded from the others when she heard.
“You shouldn’t be here.” She made her voice as firm as she could manage.
Arrogance hardened his expression. “I wouldn’t be here if you had simply treated my man of business with respect and also signed the contract.”
Her mind jolted fully awake. “Take your contract and go straight to Hades for all I care.”
She moved to close the door but he slammed his large, broad hand against it.
The sound, the gesture sent her heart thudding. She wouldn’t show surprise or fear. She refused be intimidated on her own threshold. She glared at him.
He stared back with a resolute expression. “Damn it, you’ll hear me out first.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t care to hear anything you have to say.”
Those green eyes were made even more brilliant by the contrast of thick, black as midnight lashes. The light from her candle highlighted the angles and planes of his face. He was simply gorgeous. And for the long moments he held her gaze, she was in danger of being transfixed, of forgetting herself.