Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,22

flesh. Hers was a full mouth, a siren’s one that beckoned.

She stopped that distracted movement. Her lips quivered, and Tynan rubbed his thumb along that bow-shaped temptation.

“You are right,” she said softly.

“Am I now?” he murmured, unable to properly care what he was right about, more lost in the satiny skin he caressed.

Faye darted her tongue out once more, and this time, that pink tip grazed the callused pad of his thumb.

His shaft sprang harder in his trousers, his hungering intense. A product of the many, many months he’d gone without.

Or is it more? a voice taunted and needled. Is it really this peculiar woman who has so fascinated you?

Tynan, however, had never been distracted enough by a woman to lose his focus on power and wealth, and he’d no intention of starting now because of this lady before him.

He lowered his arm to his side. “Well?” Tynan urged, perching a hip on the edge of the table. “What’s your offer, love?”

The lady hesitated for a long while, and he expected her to tell him where he could and should go with his demands, sentiments she would be well within her rights to feel given the uneven nature of their dealings. Alas, there was nothing fair when it came to deals struck in the Rookeries.

Muttering under her breath, Faye reached inside her cloak and withdrew a small reticule trimmed with pearls and dripping with crystals.

Oh, God. It was a wonder the chit hadn’t gotten herself killed, or worse, in these parts.

As if she felt his stare, the young woman drew the fancy bauble closer. She withdrew five guineas and held them out.

Not taking his gaze from hers, Tynan plucked the offering from her fingers. “I’ll need more than that.”

“Moooore?” She managed to squeeze more syllables than he’d believed possible out of the one.

He motioned with his hand.

She hesitated, and fished out another five, giving them over.

He crooked his fingers.

The lady muttered an impressively black curse. “You had better be worth it, Mr. Wylie,” she said crisply. And looking as though she were on the cusp of tears, she fetched another ten guineas, clung to them several moments more, and then slammed the coins into his open palm.

“Oh, you count on me, love,” He smirked, and pocketed the money. “Now, get going.”

Faye adjusted her cloak. “The corner of Mile Lane at dawn.” Suspicion glimmered in her eyes. “You’ll be there?”

Quitting his relaxed pose at the table, Tynan headed for the door, and playing at gentleman, he held the panel open. “You can rely on me,” he murmured.

Faye watched him with those world-weary eyes for a long while. He’d quickly come to identify that dubiety wasn’t a once-only reaction, but rather a mark of her mistrustful character. She was an odd one. The ladies he’d always had dealings with tended to be tear-spouting, weak figures. They didn’t tend to display a suspicion better suited to those who lived in the streets.

At last, the young woman drew her hood up and swept forward, marching through the halls of this place like the Queen of England herself.

Tynan followed close behind, his gaze taking in the back-and-forth glide of her gently curved hips. The moment they reached the narrow foyer, she reached for the door and then stopped.

What now?

“Is that why other women have sought you out?” she asked suddenly, unexpectedly. “To… have you scratch their itches?”

He smirked. “Yes. They were all too eager to sell themselves to me in exchange for the freedom of a loved one.” It had been as common an occurrence as the rising sun.

This time, a frown did bring her full lips down in the corner. “And did you…?” It was the first time he detected hesitancy in her.

“Did I what?” he asked. “Accept their offer to whore themselves?” Of course she was within her rights to ask. And yet, most wouldn’t have asked. They’d have taken it as understood that he’d accepted that trade. “What do you think, sweet?”

Peering at him for a long moment, she studied him the way she might a new species she’d just discovered. She slowly shook her head. “I think you did not.” And with that entirely too confident supposition about his moral character, she let herself out.

She’d thought right. But he’d sooner cut his arm off than admit as much.

Tynan instead peeked out the dust-covered window. Even clad in black as she was, in these dark streets on this even darker night, the smooth quality of her luxuriant silk shimmered as she moved,