A Thief and a Gentleman Page 2

  A moment later the door creaked open. The butler’s charming smile calmed her nerves a small degree and she responded with one of her own. The portly man bowed and stepped aside, allowing her to enter the grand foyer.

  “May I?” The butler held out his arm.

  “Thank you.” Freddie allowed him to grasp her elbow and lead her down the hall to a set of double doors, which were left open. Her heartbeat accelerated as the noise from the room greeted them in the hallway. Panic set in. She removed her arm from his grip, composed herself within the doorway of the dimly lit room and removed her cloak. The man nodded, taking the garment with him, and returned to his post.

  Freddie took a deep breath and moved further into the den like a mouse slipping into a snake hole.

  Her gaze immediately sought Sally, who was plastered against the wrinkled jacket of a pot-bellied dandy in the corner. Freddie swallowed the embarrassment away. Do they pay before or after? ’Twas a thought she did not consider until now. She needed to have her facts straight.

  “Ah, ya made it, doll! Me thoughts you’d run yur sweet arse on another lucky soldier,” Sally commented, brushing her hand over the man’s blooming crotch. Freddie winked at her, hoping the gesture seemed natural for a fellow lady of the night. She thanked her lucky stars Lord Pembleton spurned ol’ Sally, or she would truly be forced to sell her body for money.

  It did not take much time at all for the men to pay notice to Freddie. Some took their time at seduction, enjoying the game of sultry words, while others got right to the point. She had to force herself not to burst out laughing at some of their crude remarks. What these courtesans dealt with on a daily basis gave her a new respect for these women. It could not be easy being used simply as a tunnel for a man’s release. She glanced around the room, wondering which of these men could be the notorious Lord Pembleton. Did he also seek the comfort of an easy route?

  “You wouldn’t have to work to get attention from anyone, would you, precious?”

  Freddie spun around, about to snort from the ridiculous comment, but when her gaze found a pair of deep and delicious gray eyes, she was rendered speechless. He looked at her face then shamelessly down to her chest. At first she thought he may be drunk, but when he stared into her eyes she saw an intensity that belonged to no intoxicated man.

  Thank God he offered her a flute of wine, when his bold appraisal made her feel embarrassed and hot. A drink would ease her anxiety. It must.

  Think about the money. His lips were designed for the pleasure of a woman. They should be labeled a crime. This is not a good way to begin. He looked like a rogue, and he knew it.

  “I hope that old fart did not give you any trouble. It would be insufferable, especially for someone as lovely as you.”

  Freddie hoped he could not hear her heart beating, but the smile she plastered on her face was a winner. “Not at all, although I would hate to be unbecoming if that is the way a woman is treated around here.”

  He smiled. “A woman with tenacity. I admire that. Do you always get what you want?”

  “Thank you, but no. Luck does not always come my way. Do you always get what you want?”

  His gaze raked slowly, possessively over her. “If I want it bad enough. That perfume, it’s perfect for you. It smells like peaches. So, sweet love, tell me your name.”

  Freddie stared at his sleek, masculine jaw, and then up to his finely crafted eyebrows. Broad shoulders beneath a black frock coat tapered to a narrow waist and muscular legs within his black breeches…she quickly averted her gaze to the safety of his crisp white shirt and cravat. Well, nothing about him seemed safe. “My friends call me Freddie.”

  His eyebrows furrowed, but the smirk did not leave his mouth. “You’re too lovely for a pet name like that, precious.”

  “Who says I am precious? Maybe I’m the kind of woman a gentleman should have a care to avoid, and not tarnish his good name,” she murmured. And with a provocative twist, Freddie whipped out her lace fan from the concealed pocket of her gown and fanned the charged air between them. She needed to get her bearings.

  His smile was simply roguish. It made her pulse race and her cheeks blaze.

  “The kind of woman this man would enjoy undressing,” he replied, much to her dismay and…excitement.

  Unfortunately, her emotions must have been revealed, because the gentleman grinned and took her hand, brought it to his too kissable lips and dragged them deliciously across the back, with a hint of tongue. A burgeoning heat coursed through her, making her belly and her womanhood ache with need. Never had she felt that way before from such a simple thing. She should take care with this man, he seemed well aware of his effect on her.

  “Pardon me, could you point me in the direction of the privy?” Forcing a confident smile, Freddie could not believe how hot she felt. Cold water was what she needed, most definitely.

  The gray depths of his eyes twinkled with amusement.

  “How lovely. I could undress you…”

  “No! I mean, that is not what I meant.” I need you to walk away and let me catch my breath! Her mind raced with unladylike thoughts. The blush on her face could light the room.

  His wicked grin made her pulse race, and he bowed gracefully. “Then I shall wait like the gentleman I try to be.”

  Freddie had the distinct feeling his eyes watched her bottom as she walked away.

  Images swirled, hot velvety voices of arousal in her memory. She had heard them in the rooming houses overseas. The pleasure men and women shared was something Freddie had yet to discover, but secretly yearned for. Ladies were not supposed to think of such things, even if they were pretending to be a vixen of the night. The idea of spreading her thighs to a man’s turgid manhood, or lying beneath his powerful body, terrified and excited her at the same time.

  Her heart tripped wildly from the memory of how a man pushed a woman against the trunk of a tree last summer, their bodies moving quickly, as if they would be caught any moment.

  She was just an innocent passerby, but the couple had made her curious to their mating, and she stood in the bushes watching until they reached a frantic conclusion. She breathed like they did, felt hot, like they must have, and a need began to build within her. Something she never felt again—until now. Never would she be able to erase that day from her mind.

  That man had made her want to do things, naughty things ladies dare not think about. The couple had moved feverishly, he from behind, while she pushed herself back against him. His hands gripped her so fiercely his knuckles were white, and Freddie had watched in wonder and embarrassment, as his buttocks flexed with each thrust of his hips. He took the woman roughly and her cries of pleasure proved she enjoyed it immensely. The sight made Freddie throb down below in a strange, very warm way, just like it did a moment ago.

  Shoving her wanton memories aside, she looked up the stairs recalling the details to Lord Pembleton’s bedchamber, and ascended the steps.

  Chapter Three

  Nash paused at the foot of the steps, looked down to something that often ruled his judgment, and wondered if his actions were highly improper. The urge to follow her was too strong to ignore, so he did—right to the privy. Hopefully he planned his timing to catch her after she completed her needs.

  Hell, he was almost tempted to take her right in that most private of places.

  Must females take so long? And what was wrong with him for standing here like this? Nash impatiently knocked on the door, ignoring the quizzical glance from a young maid passing by.

  Not a sound came from the small room. He jerked the door open as a chuckle tumbled from his lips. What a ludicrous notion to seduce a damsel in the privy.

  The young lady was not there. Nash quickly closed the door, and was startled to find his butler standing beside him, looking quite amused.

  Dibs barely held his laughter. “She is not in there, my lord.”

  “Truly?” Nash teased. “I would not be surprised if the poor female is squatting in the gard
ens given the smell of this thing. See that it gets cleaned at once.”

  Nash continued down the hall, baffled as to where the woman had gone. Eventually, he found himself staring at the door to his chamber, which was ajar. He crept closer to listen, the muffled sound of a female voice breaking the silence. She was swearing in an unladylike fashion, and although the chance of her stealing angered him, knowing she had such nerve, aroused him.

  He slid more closely to the crack in the door, peeping through until his gaze caught her kneeling upon the floor. Her curvy bottom was up in the air, swaying somewhat as she searched beneath the bed. The pale skirt molded so tightly to her lovely ass, he mentally undressed her, imagining the beautiful swell of naked cheeks, and the squashed perfection of her cleft beckoning his basic instincts. Such a lovely place for a man to be, directly behind a naked woman with her vulnerability there for the taking. His cock reacted to the thought.

  Nash wanted to sink himself deep inside her, right there on the floor.

  Taking the opportunity to sneak into the room, and careful not to make a sound, he crept up behind her. Oh, temptation was hard to resist, no matter how untrustworthy this woman must be. She pulled his wooden box out from the bed, and slowly rose to stand up. Without a thought to his boldness, Nash reached out and grabbed her ass.

  Instantly, her body went rigid, then she spun around, dropping the wooden box on the floor, sending a large amount of coins in a clinking heap at their feet. The flames from the hearth danced across the coins, bathing her lovely face in golden light. With a startled gasp, she stepped back and hit the bed, just as his hand clamped down over her mouth. Nash gently pushed her down until she sat on the bed, trapped between his thighs. The tent in his pants right in front of her eyes. How perfect. Just moments ago he recalled her stating that she was not at all precious. What a lovely time to find out if it were true.

  She mumbled something against his hand, her wide blue eyes gazing innocently into his, her sweet lips crushed against the flesh of his palm, her mesmerizing chest rising and falling.

  It would be easy to take her. Press her into the bed and make her pay with her body, for what she planned to steal from him. Just as he did earlier, Nash closed his eyes and sniffed.

  God be damned, she smelled so good.

  Peaches.

  He opened his eyes and gazed into hers.

  “There would have been something amiss if I had not appeared. Tell me, do you feel lucky?” Nash dared a meaningful glance at the lovely globes of her breasts, thrusting out before his very eyes. This woman could not be trusted. He sensed danger in the pit of his stomach, and yet, the lushness of her body and brightness of her eyes cut right through him, and that blasted gown looked flimsy enough to tear right from her body in one yank. He would smother his face between her bosom and lower her to the bed, feel her naked curves beneath him.

  If she wanted coins, he’d give her much more than she bargained for.

  Nash could strike a match from his cock—her eyes reached right into his breeches and stroked him to life. “If I remove my hand, you promise not to scream?”

  She nodded, obvious relief washing over her when he dropped his hand to his side, but he remained standing between her legs. Her cheeks heated and he saw her gaze sweep over his arousal; it made him feel reckless.

  “What is your real name, woman?” Nash asked, gauging her reaction to his nearness. He wanted to skim his fingers over her cheek and jaw, feel the soft skin beneath her ear, but instead he stood there like a young fool staring at his first lover.

  “I already told you…’tis Freddie,” she murmured, biting her bottom lip, darting her gaze everywhere, anywhere except connecting with his own. The name was a lie, he knew, but for now he let her charade continue.

  “How did you know about this box?” He swept a hand over the expensive mess on the floor. “One would think you knew exactly where to find it.”

  With wide, beseeching eyes, she finally gazed up and he almost felt sorry for her predicament. Almost.

  “Who are you?” she whispered, ignoring his question.

  “I am somebody you would not want to upset.” Nash reached out and skimmed his knuckles over her shoulder, up to her ear very gently. Her soft inhale made his lust supersede his anger. Her startled eyes searched his, long lashes fluttering up, making the huge sapphire orbs seem out of this world.

  Maybe his dream really did come to life, in the form of a thief.

  He could not help wondering what was more appealing…a prostitute who simply sold her wares on the street, or one who had the gall to prance into a man’s home, drink his liquor, and attempt to steal from his private chamber? He could think of many ways for her to beg his forgiveness.

  “Such scandalous eyes,” he murmured. “Who are you?”

  Nash watched as she struggled for an answer. He stared as the pink tip of her tongue dashed across her bottom lip. He yearned to lick it himself, then dip his tongue into the warm heat of her mouth and strike a midnight bargain. Then she chewed on it again. Christ, he was painfully hard, but when she did not come forth with an answer, he lowered his hand and took a hesitant step back.

  “I guess you leave me no choice but to hand you to the authorities.”

  “Wait!” She grabbed the lapels of his dress coat, dragging him back to her. “Please! Lord Pembleton must not know I’m here. I will work off my unforgivable deed.”

  Intrigued, he quirked an eyebrow, suddenly suspicious and very curious to know all about this dazzling female. The fact that she did not know who he was amused him. “Just what would you consider sufficient as payment?”

  She swallowed. “You could take me to your home and I’ll…I’ll…”

  Nash considered his words very carefully, feeling an odd sensation in the deep depths of his soul. He must take great care with this woman. “I suppose we could strike a bargain, you know, considering we would not want to tarnish my good name.” And if her eyes were not wide enough already, ’twas unnerving how she looked at him then.

  “What kind of bargain?” she whispered, visibly trembling.

  He almost laughed at the audacity of her acting. What women would do for an excuse to flee was appalling.

  “Let’s see. I am in need of a mistress, and you, my troublesome vixen, are what I have a craving for. Women with nerve tempt me beyond reason.”

  Her bounds for being here were questionable, so why could he not do the right thing and ensure she join every other thief that dirtied the streets of so many English towns? Why was he drawn to her like a wild animal to a cool stream at the end of a long journey? And she could not even tell him her real name.

  Nash studied her for a long moment, memorizing the delicate curve of her midnight eyebrows and how they sloped daintily above her eyes. She had a pert little nose and kissable lips. Yes, there were easy women downstairs, but this fine specimen of a woman was here right now, and under his influence.

  He consumed her with his gaze, made damn sure she was aware of his thoughts. It both excited and scared him to know that this beauty made him yearn so desperately for something he had never felt before…and there was the fact of her circumstances.

  “Yes, that is the solution. You see, Freddie, I want you. The moment you walked into the room I knew I had to have you. Now that you’re here, I can think of several ways, in fact, to keep my mouth shut. Considering your less than stellar circumstances, co-operation is the key. And you have nothing to fear. I know how to pleasure a woman.”

  To his startled surprise, she reached out and pressed her palm against his crotch. Nash stood there, barely breathing, as she tentatively explored him. A surge of heat coursed through his blood, instinctively forcing his hips forward, beckoned by the power of her hand, the heat of her flesh through his trousers. Staring down at her, he saw uncertainty, yet curiosity in her shining eyes, and he grinned, moving his hands down to unleash his cock.

  She halted. “I―oh my…”

  “I promise you will be plea
sured beyond your wildest dreams. Do you trust me?”

  Apprehension and something else touched her face, and he reached out to skim his fingers over her cheek, then under her ear as he wished, then up and across her delicate eyebrows. She nodded, tilting her face into the cup of his palm. It gave him pause for a moment. Normally a prostitute would not act worried over the outcome. She must be new. A startling thought came to his mind, that if she did not have the pleasure of many men, then he would want her only for himself. Possessiveness raced through him.

  “I am not a rapist,” he whispered. “I would never harm, nor force a woman, but I will not lie and say I do not want you in every way a man could make a woman his.” When he gazed into her eyes, really looked into her eyes, as he never had before with a woman, he saw something there that nearly brought him to his knees.

  “It will not fit,” she suddenly choked.

  Nash looked down to where her eyes had strayed, and swallowed his laughter. “Oh. Believe me, precious, it will fit.”

  Tentatively, she trailed her fingertips under his shirt and up to his stomach, felt the rippled planes there and continued higher until she reached his chest. Her small fingers felt so soft and warm, it made him want much more than that. Without thought of his actions, he pulled her off the bed and into his arms.

  The breath rushed out of her as he dipped his face to claim her lips, and the fire in their kiss put the one in the hearth to shame. Her hands fell to her sides, then slowly she reached up, letting herself fall into the sensations he aroused within her. She locked her fingers at his neck, and gave him a dose of her own passion.

  He traced his fingertips up and down her waist, gripped her bottom and pressed her hard against him. She whimpered and it excited him, he thrust his tongue in and out of her mouth like he would mate her.

  “Your mouth is perfection,” he whispered against her lips. “Makes me wonder how your other lips will taste.” He growled, lightly thrusting and circling his hips against her pelvis.