What must Hannah be thinking of him right about now? That he was a licentious rake? An immoral libertine? Damn it, he wanted her respect and admiration as much as he wanted her passion. This was not the best way to earn the former.
Although, come to think of it, she didn’t look horrified. Curious, yes. Somewhat shocked, also yes, judging by the bright red hue of her cheeks and neck. But he could not detect any sign of judgment or censure in her.
They walked along the upper floor gallery. Every alcove they passed contained a couple, and sometimes more than a couple, engaged in some variation and degree of the sexual act. Women with bared breasts, a pair of bare male buttocks pumping between the legs of a woman—an image he wished he could scrub from his mind.
In yet another alcove, there was a lady on her knees... err, servicing a gentleman. The only reaction he could tell from Hannah was a tightening of her hand on his arm.
When they passed another alcove where two men were engaging with one woman, each taking her from a different angle, he judged she had seen enough. Her small gasp grated at his conscience. This is not why he had brought her here. He merely wanted to dance with her, hold her in his arms, maybe steal a few heated kisses in a corner. Everything he couldn’t do at a society ball.
He leaned down, brushing her curls aside to whisper in her ear. “Shall we leave this place now?”
She turned, met her eyes, and for a moment, electricity seemed to crackle around them. He could read her body’s reaction to the surrounding display. It provoked a similar response in him, and suddenly he was not so sure he could make it to his home before having her. That’s not what he had intended at all. He would not have their first time together in a place like this.
But maybe he could indulge a bit. Take the edge of the desire they both felt. His hand came up to cup her chin, lifting it, feathering his thumb across her lush lips. He leaned down to kiss her.
“Gabriel!” a sultry voice dripping with sensuality and a tinge of amusement called from behind him. “I knew I had seen you before. So bad of you not to come say hello,mere priy.”
He groaned inside. It was too much to hope that Anjali had not seen him. He knew she watched all comings and goings. Looking over her empire like the shrewd businesswoman he knew her to be under the guise of the seductress.
He straightened slowly and turned around. Offering her a smile and a look he hoped she could correctly interpret to mean he didn’t want the details of their past relationship aired.
“Anjali. A pleasure to see you, as always.” Taking her proffered hand, he bowed over it, bringing it to his mouth for a light kiss on her knuckles. “How are you?”
Her eyes warmed with understanding, and she gave him one of her genuine smiles; not the dazzling seductive smiles she reserved for her patrons, but a friendly smile.
“Better now for having seen you, old friend.” She looked behind him, and her dark eyes assessed Hannah, who had gone still and silent. Anjali inclined her head. “Welcome to my establishment, my lady. I won’t ask for an introduction because discretion is part of my stock in trade. But please know that a friend of Gabriel’s is a friend of mine. If you need anything, you only have to ask.”
He was about to reply on Hannah’s behalf, sure that it must appall her that a courtesan and owner of the most notorious pleasure club in London addressed her. But once again, his duchess surprised him.
Inclining her head with an aplomb worthy of the queen, she responded, “Thank you, Miss Anjali. I must congratulate you on a successful event. The champagne is superb, and the food is exquisite.”
He almost laughed at the compliment, offered as if she were praising a society lady on a successful ball. And completely ignoring the licentiousness taking place within a few feet of them.
Anjali smiled, delighted. “I like your friend, Gabriel. I must be off now, you understand, hostess duties. But please ask for anything you need. Adieu!”
With a saucy wink, she floated off in a cloud of veils and perfume.
Gabriel watched her retreating figure, taking a deep breath. Good thing the encounter was over. It had gone better than he could have predicted. Hannah had not seemed upset by Anjali’s flirtatiousness. He turned to her.
“Is she your mistress?” Hannah asked point blank with narrowed eyes.
Oh, fuck. Maybe it had not gone so well after all.
CHAPTER 23
HANNAH FOUGHT HARDto beat down the jealousy coursing through her veins like a river of fire. She had no right to it. She knew it. The nature of her arrangement with Gabriel did not entitle her to any possessiveness where he was concerned. But she couldn’t help the way she felt.
It didn’t help that the woman was strikingly beautiful, with warm, sun-kissed, caramel skin. A dark silk cascade of hair that framed lovely features. And her eyes...they were deep and expressive. Accentuated by thick eyelashes, and darkened with kohl, they gave her a mysterious allure that would draw every male with a pulse.
Next to her, Hannah felt pale, plain, and unsophisticated. No wonder Gabriel was in no hurry to bed her. If this was the kind of women he was used to consorting with.
“Anjali has never been my mistress.”
Her gaze captured his. Looking deep into his eyes. Seeking. She didn’t believe him. He wasn’t precisely lying. Maybe it was a half-truth? She just knew they had been involved somehow. There was an ease, a sort of connection between them that was faint, dampened, but undeniable. She swallowed bitterness as she imagined them locked in a lover’s embrace.
But what did she know about Gabriel’s affairs? She had never asked. Did he have a paramour at the moment? She had assumed... How incredibly naïve of her. Of course, a man like him would have someone, maybe several someones.
“And yet the two of you seemed awfully familiar with each other. Do you deny any involvement with her?”
