had fallen into the rhythm of the dance with him, her body relaxing into his hold. It had taken every ounce of his will—which, he had to admit wasn’t very strong to begin with—to keep from hauling her against him. He clenched his teeth, unable to stop himself from remembering the night they’d met and the way she’d felt against him then. That only made him wonder how it would feel to have her under him, arching and writhing, the grace of her movements translating into something primal and wicked in the bedchamber.
It had been damned distracting, trying to remain on his best behavior while she stood so close, taunting him with what he couldn’t have. So, he had opened his mouth to fill the silence between them … and promptly inserted his foot.
Had all the things he’d said to her been true? Absolutely. The problem with her pursuit of Martin Lewes was clear to him, and he thought she should be aware of it.
However, his delivery had left much to be desired, and now he regretted his choice of words. He’d insulted her. Again. During supper last night, she had done her best to avoid looking at him, only speaking to him when necessary. It seemed she had forgotten that they were supposed to give the impression of a newly burgeoning romance, and had spent the entire meal engaging with her sister and the others seated near them. If he’d been on fire, Nick doubted she would have troubled herself putting out the flames.
He laughed and shook his head, astonished as he realized what he’d come to. Dominick Burke, notorious debauchee and secret courtesan … panting for a prudish spinster after nothing more than a waltz. He, who had fucked whores in alleys, and widows in the most sumptuous of bedchambers. He, who had once pleasured three women at the same time with half a decanter of brandy in him, who had climbed out of countless windows to escape discovery by unsuspecting husbands.
Perhaps there was something to be said for desire of the unattainable. Ladies had made it easy for him for years now, throwing money at him for the thrill of having him in their beds. Now, the woman financing his lifestyle didn’t want him, and that stung considering the strong reaction he’d had at the first sight of her.
He was being ridiculous. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he stood and pushed those damnable thoughts aside. He had a job to do, and daydreaming about how badly he’d like to be the one to deflower Calliope wasn’t it. Later this evening, he would find himself a whore and pay her to let him exorcise this fever in his blood. In the meantime, he needed to make amends to ensure his income didn’t dry up overnight due to his uncontrolled mouth.
Ironic that the thing which had earned him so many contracts might ruin his current arrangement.
Sending for Thorpe to help him prepare for an afternoon out, he ensured his appearance was in order before leaving his rooms. He’d sent his man out this morning to procure flowers for Calliope and have them delivered to Hastings House. He hoped this gesture would soften her toward him, and word would spread of the bouquet that had arrived at the Hastings residence for a certain unwed lady. All the better if it got back to Lewes.
As he made the trip on foot, he thought over what he would say when he saw her. ‘I’m sorry I called you an icicle’ didn’t seem like quite enough, while ‘I was wrong’ was a step too far. After all, Nick had many flaws but prided himself on his penchant for speaking the truth.
By the time he arrived, he had rehearsed a few flowery speeches but discarded them. Calliope didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would appreciate that—which was fortuitous, because he’d never been any good at gallantry. As he used the door knocker, he fixed his face with a polite smile and settled on a tactic of bluntness mixed with apologetic reasoning.
He expected to be informed that Calliope was ‘not at home,’ but was surprised when a footman promptly admitted him and took his gloves and hat before guiding him to a drawing room.
The first thing he noticed was the overwhelmingly cloying stench of flowers. He smelled them before he saw them, their perfume wafting through the corridor and agitating his senses. Rubbing at his itching nose, he did his best to