“Count Whiskers,” she corrected him. “He’s Italian aristocracy, and he far outranks you. I’ll let you know what he decides.”
Reuben’s spirits rose. Yes, to be sure, Gladys had meant that comment as a set down, but I’ll let you know implied the two of them would meet again in the future.
Oddly, his imagination did not immediately picture a sweaty tangle of limbs and bedsheets, but rather a cozy afternoon much like this one, with a crackling fire and a game of cards or a good book, and Count Whiskers purring between their feet.
He tried not to think too hard about what it meant that he could imagine quiet nights at home with her as easily as sensual encounters. Skipping rocks by the river, perhaps, with him stealing kisses between each throw. Picnicking in a secluded clearing, and christening the blanket afterwards. Reading on opposite ends of a couch, their feet in each other’s laps, a bottle of wine awaiting them. Waking up in each other’s arms and making love before a leisurely breakfast, followed by—
“You’re making the oddest expression,” she told him.
He collected himself. “I was thinking about kissing you.”
“Remembering the last time, or plotting the next one?”
“Both, always.” He put down his cards. “Would it shock you if I said I want nothing more in this world than to make love to you?”
“Nothing shocks me.” She set down her cards as well. “As for lovemaking, I’ve spent the last five years as a courtesan. Have I shocked you?”
Shocked? Hardly. So many of her previous odd comments and unusual behaviors now made sense. Of course a courtesan would catch on to his aphrodisiac picnic, and not be accompanied by a chaperone.
He shook his head. “I should be in a far worse pickle if you were a virgin. If anything, I’m relieved. And jealous.”
“Jealous of my past lovers?”
“Jealous of your superior cleverness. I should have been a cicisbeo for money. Ordinary rakes don’t earn a single penny for their services, no matter how much in demand they find themselves.” He wiggled his brows. “Unless you’d like to be my first paying customer?”
She laughed. “You wish I would.”
“With every breath in my lungs,” he agreed. “All right, you drive a hard bargain. First encounter, free of charge.”
She tossed a pair of nines at him. “It’s easy to jest when it’s not your life. Becoming a courtesan wasn’t my childhood dream. I was forced into it by circumstances outside of my control.”
His hackles rose. “Forced how?”
“My final season out, a scoundrel ruined me so thoroughly, my family had no choice but to cut all ties with me to save my younger sister’s reputation. I ended up on the street, surviving by any means necessary.”
Anger flashed through Reuben, and his fists clenched in fury. “Of all the unconscionable… Someone should teach that blackguard a lesson!”
“On that, we agree,” she murmured. “I’ll never forgive him for losing me my family.”
His heart clenched in sympathy. Choosing a life of solitude was one thing. Having one’s loved ones snatched away was unforgivable.
“There’s nothing wrong with sexual relations,” he told her. “And there’s nothing wrong with exchanging services of any sort for money. But neither situation should be forced upon you.”
“Well, I’m finished with all that now. From this month forward, I am no longer on the market. I shall select my lovers based on my desires, not theirs.”
“Starting this very day?” he said with interest. “Because—you may not know this—there’s a perfectly serviceable bed just on the other side of that closed door.”
“How disappointing,” she said with a little sigh. “A self-proclaimed rake who thinks lovemaking can only take place on a bed.”
In a blink, he was on his feet and pulling her into his arms.
Reuben devoured Gladys with ravenous kisses, and she responded just as voraciously. Her hip bumped the table and the cards went flying. He swung her out of the way and against the wall, pinning her against the wood paneling. She sank her fingers into his hair and held on tight.
He kissed her as though his life depended on it. As though she was his entire world. He loved her taste, still sweet from the pudding. Her scent, so soft and feminine. The feel of her curves pressed lushly against him.
His heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings, but it was all for her. Every pulse of his blood, every breath in his lungs, every heady second of not knowing which way was up because all directions pointed him right back to her.
He desperately hoped these were not the final moments they spent together, but the first hour of many, many more. He wanted these kisses every day and every night. Wanted to keep Gladys safe in his arms every waking second.
