“I will certainly do my best. Come to my office and we can talk.”
He beckoned to Kit, who rose from his chair, pausing to thank Tait for his time and the wine.
“You’re entirely welcome, Mr. Redford,” Tait said. “It’s been a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
Finally?
Kit kept his expression blank, but he wondered at Tait’s words. Had Sharp spoken of him to Tait? And if so, why?
There was no time to puzzle it out. Sharp was already striding out the room, and Kit hurried after him, following him into another room further down the corridor.
Tait’s office had been comfortable and tasteful, but Sharp’s… well, it was something else entirely. Fully twice the size of Tait’s, it held a large desk, a round table with four chairs, and the largest and most luxurious chaise longue Kit had ever seen, upholstered in deep-red velvet and big enough for two grown men.
Kit raised his eyebrows at the chaise longue and Sharp laughed.
“I spend a lot of time here,” he said. “May as well have everything I need.” He gestured at the table. “Take a seat, Kitten.”
Kit tried to hide his instinctive bristle at the nickname as he pulled out a chair and sat himself down. Sharp opened up a cabinet in the corner of the room and drew out a decanter of amber liquid and two large glasses.
“Brandy,” he said decisively as he approached the table. He didn’t ask Kit if he wanted one, just set the glasses down and poured out two generous measures, then took the chair opposite Kit.
“Tell me, then. How can I help you?”
Kit sipped the brandy. It was very good, and certainly French.
“There’s a man causing trouble for one of my people. I think he may come to this club, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he owes you money. I was rather hoping to beard the lion in his den—or rather, in your den. A public confrontation with the threat of more scandal would be, I think, enough to scare him off.”
Sharp sipped his brandy then leaned back in his chair. He looked amused. “This may surprise you, Kitten, but I generally don’t allow my punters to be harassed here. It’s not what I consider to be good business.”
Kit smiled and shrugged. “I thought you might make an exception in this case.”
“Why?” Sharp asked, his eyes gleaming with appreciation. “Will you grant me something in return?”
Kit met his gaze. “Possibly.”
Sharp’s eyebrows went up. “Who is this fellow?”
“Percival Bartlett,” Kit said. “Oldest son of Sir Algernon Bartlett.”
Even as he spoke, he saw the interest in Sharp’s gaze.
“I know of him,” Sharp admitted. “And yes, he does come here. His credit’s just about up, in fact. I was expecting to have a quiet word with him in the near future.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Kit said. “He’s an inveterate gambler and entirely lacking in self-control.”
“Well, he’s not alone in that,” Sharp replied cheerfully. “Which is just as well for me, or I’d have no punters. So, you want me to let you cause a scene here, do you? Embarrass the man in front of his friends?”
“That’s about the size of it,” Kit agreed.
“And what will you give me in return?” Sharp leaned over the table and laid his hand on Kit’s forearm. His hand was square with blunt fingers. He had a long scar across three of his knuckles. It was a strong hand. A fighter’s hand. He met Kit’s gaze with eyes the same tawny-gold as a bird of prey. “I’d give a great deal to have you under me for a night. I think I could show you a thing or two.”
Sharp was a compelling man, very attractive in his way, but he could not have said anything less appealing. Kit had no interest in a man who thought he could teach him anything between the bedsheets, thank you very much. Besides, he'd sworn a long time ago never to trade his body again. And he had a feeling there were other ways to gain Sharp’s agreement.
“I’m afraid that’s not something I’m prepared to bargain with,” Kit said smoothly. He paused then, aware of the enormity of what he was about to do. “But I’ll owe you a favour.”
He knew it was rash to make so broad an offer to a man like Sharp. But his own request was not small. And since he was refusing what Sharp had asked in return, he had to offer something worthwhile.