night at the gaming tables without being aware of how much time had passed. Perhaps Benedict was right to insist he had a problem. It wasn’t a good sign that he’d wasted the entire night, as well as a good deal of his money.
Of course, there were also the betting books, horse races, cock fights, and Benedict’s boxing matches. He would have to be vigilant if he truly planned to stop letting his little habit get the best of him.
The door to Benedict’s office stood open, and Nick detected the glow and crackle of the fire from the hearth within. Farther into the shop, he could hear the jingle of keys and click of footsteps—likely the modiste and her seamstresses preparing to begin business for the day.
As Benedict approached the door, Nick held out a hand to halt him.
“I hardly need you to hold my hand. I’ve begun enough liaisons to know how it’s done without your apron strings to cling to.”
Benedict cast him a dubious look. “Miss Barrington isn’t like the others, Nick. I think you should—”
“And I think you should relax and let me do what I do best. I’ll have that contract signed, and this Miss Botherton chit eating out of my palm in ten minutes flat.”
Benedict’s lips quivered as if he fought not to laugh, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so?”
Nick ran a hand through his hair. “Quite. Stand aside.”
His friend raised one blond eyebrow, but did as he was told and waved a hand toward the cracked door. “Whatever you say. I wish you luck.”
“This is one area where I don’t need luck,” Nick drawled before pushing open the door.
He strode inside, confidence in his gait and determination steeling him. It didn’t matter if this client were twice his age or had the face of a badger; he was going to charm her right out of her clothes. But she could keep her stockings on … Nick liked it when they kept their stockings on.
The form of a petite woman rose from a chair that faced Benedict’s desk, and at first all Nick could make out was a chignon of glossy black hair and a slender figure. But then, she turned to face him and he nearly choked on his own tongue.
Miss Whatever-her-name-was certainly wasn’t twice his age, nor did she have the face of a badger. Benedict had been right that she didn’t fit into the imagined mold of his ‘perfect’ woman. Yet, somehow, Nick had never beheld a more magnificent creature in all his life.
He’d never seen such round, dark eyes—like velvety brown pools a man could fall into and happily drown. A heart-shaped face with a delicate little chin was carved with high, regal cheekbones and slashed with an aquiline nose. And her mouth … he’d never seen a more perfect mouth in his life. His cock went hard in an instant as he imagined licking at that plump bottom lip, then biting it until she moaned. He wanted to trace the cupid’s bow of the upper lip with his fingertip, then plunge into her mouth, testing the feel of her tongue. Those lips trailing across his naked chest, parted as she moaned in ecstasy, wrapped around his prick …
He nearly groaned at the images his wild imagination had conjured, but managed to remain composed.
She stared at him, silent and assessing, hands clasped neatly before her. Nick’s mind went completely blank and he found himself at a loss for words.
Words were never a problem for him. In fact, they were something of a specialty, whether he was charming society matrons, making his friends laugh with well-timed jokes, or whispering filth into the ears of the women paying to be debauched. He swallowed and spat out the first words that popped into his head.
“Fucking Christ, you’re gorgeous.”
She blinked as if startled, then furrowed her brow. “Thank you.”
Her words held a questioning note, almost as if she couldn’t believe what he’d just said.
Brilliant.
Clearing his throat, he tried to shake off the stupor that had fallen over him at the sight of her. Even before he’d become a courtesan, wooing women into his bed had never been a trial. He would recover from his little blunder and make this woman his next client—and not just because he needed the money.
“Dominick Burke. At your service.”
Seeming to recover from her shock, she gave a stiff nod and extended a hand to him. “Yes, I know who you are, Mr. Burke. I am