The Earl's Wildcat. Krystina DarylЧитать онлайн книгу.
giving her an hour glass figure. She held her front hair up with red pins and left the bottom part down to her waist in loose curls. She completed the look with a red mask that covered half her face.
Geraldine may have been a horrid human being, but her taste in scandalous wardrobe gained envy from the matron's of Dallas Palace. She'd not only left her daughter behind, but also her whore costumes when she married.
Tom escorted her to the back of the bawdy house and walked with her as her guard until they got to Mr. Kingston's table. He pulled the cloak off her shoulders for her and pulled her a chair from the neighbouring table, setting it next to Mr. Kingston.
It only took one look for Lydia to tell Mr. Kingston had already dug himself a deep debt hole.
Lydia played her part well, pressing a loud and long red kiss on Mr. Kingston's cheek. "My love, your lucky charm is here."
Mr. Kingston brushed the back of his hand over his perspiring brow. "And just in time, Wildcat!" He pulled her onto his lap and showed her his cards. "Work your magic for me would you?"
Lydia pulled the cards from his hands. "With pleasure, my love."
"Is this how it works in Dallas? The hostesses act as saviours to their guests?"
Lydia smiled at the comment but kept her eyes on the bad hand Mr. Kingston held. The man's English accent and comment told her it was his first visit to the brothel.
"It's our job to provide more than sexual pleasure, My Lord. Relaxation and peace of mind is included in the services rendered." She laid one card down and picked another. She smiled at her luck. "We can't have our guests going home more stressed than they arrived can we?"
She spread the winning hand onto the table. "Is that not right, Mr. Kingston?"
Mr. Kingston cheered, bouncing her on his lap. "Yes, Wildcat!"
She looked up to watch the losers' faces. The different reactions both fascinated and amused her. When her eyes settled on one particular man, she gasped. She'd never seen such deep blue eyes before.
He pushed his cards to the dealer, his eyes still on her. She felt her breathe catch when his grin deepened. Never had her interest and her body been stirred by a look or a smile before.
"Perhaps you should come keep my lap warm for the next hand?"
The seduction aided by his accent seeped out with his words like an erotic fragrance that heated her flesh.
Lydia was startled out of her daze when Mr. Kingston pulled her roughly against him, his arm a tight restraint around her waist. "Oh no, sir, she's my lucky charm."
In a quick recovery, Lydia patted Mr. Kingston's arm. "Calm yourself, love. I have no plans of vacating your person."
The Englishman placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. His biceps bulged, stretching the fabric of his shirt enough that Lydia thought it would rip over the moulds.
"Fine, if not for a game of cards, then perhaps your other profession?" His brow rose suggestively and one end of his lips rose in a breath-taking half smile.
Lydia swallowed hard. His lustful look was the first that rendered her speechless. Her quick sharp tongue lay lifeless in her mouth.
Mr. Kingston laughed. "Not even for that, sir."
The Englishman shifted his gaze from her to the man whose lap she occupied for a moment before it rested back on her. "Is she your courtesan?"
Mr. Fisher, who sat to his right, snorted a laugh. "You will have no luck from that direction either. We've all tried to have our own romp in the sheets with her but Mr. Kingston threatens retaliation if anyone persisted."
The Englishman's grin deepened. "It is possible what you offer is very low for her talents?"
Mr. Kingston leaned forward, pushing Lydia with him. Her hands fell on the table for support, inches away from the Englishman's thick forearms. She stared at the few inches that separated their fingers from touching then back to the Englishman's eyes, and swallowed the large lump in her throat.
How would it feel to touch his pale skin? Are his hands soft? What nonsense are you thinking of, Lydia! She shook her head clear. She wasn't a whore, even though the man's gaze burned an unfamiliar fire in the pit of her belly.
Simple attraction, lust! She chastised herself as her eyes roamed his thick arms, broad shoulders and a chest she could only presume to be as hard as it was enticing from the little she could see from his parted collar and the two top undone buttons.
Lydia felt her body flush when her eyes travelled up his square jaw and a face that both echoed power and enticement. Her breathe seized when her eyes met his. They darkened with desire Lydia had seen in the eyes of many men. But none were as imposing and alluring as his. He didn't drool, he had no reason to. His eyes clearly spoke his intentions and Lydia got the impression he'd seduced many women with just that look.
Those deep blue sea eyes....
"Listen Lord whatever your name is, she is mine and only mine. So drop your hunting!"
Mr. Kingston's threat seemed to amuse the man. He laughed while his eyes slowly moved over Lydia's visible body. Lydia felt her heart quicken under his consuming gaze. Never had a man made her so uncomfortable.
His eyes lingered on her breasts then rose to meet her own. "I'll give you triple what he gives you, for the night."
His voice was firm and direct. He was serious! But the most unbelievable thought, was that she was considering it. Not for the money he promised, but just to see him naked, to feel his hard body against hers.
Lydia sat back away from the table. It wasn't in her nature to let a man control her, and she was quickly losing her senses drowning in this man's eyes.
She was there for business not pleasure.
She smiled then tapped on the table to signal to the dealer to shuffle the cards. "Why not discuss this after we are done playing?"
*****
After their arrival in America, Nicholas felt the need to go out and stretch the knots in his body that had formed after spending six weeks on a ship. He was sure Christopher would want to go to the mining site right away, but Melanie had persuaded him to rest. The nap meant to be an hour long became one-night long.
Nicholas was restless, and sleep would not help him, so he persuaded Mr. Simmons to go out with him. The butler had recommended the Dallas Palace. And until the red masked temptress walked in, it had been a bore.
There wasn't a woman in the establishment that caught his attention enough to provoke an arousal, but once 'Wildcat' sashayed in, his body stood alert, even before her man aided her in removing the cloak.
Nicholas watched as the black cloak slide off her petite bare shoulders to expose a red corset that exposed just enough breasts and the curve of her derriere, and long stocking clad legs. Her mask added onto the alluring enticement and an instant fantasy of tapping her in every position he knew came to mind.
He wanted her clothed just as she was as he quenched his body of six weeks' hunger. Then maybe he'd want her nude...
But no, that would ruin his Wildcat fantasy. Hopefully she was a Wildcat during sex.
The thought made him clench his jaw to hold back the groan.
Six weeks was too long.
He hadn't been paying attention to the game. He was just listening to her voice, wondering how it would sound in the throes of ecstasy. He only realised that Mr. Kingston, thanks to the Wildcat, had recovered most of what he had lost when he cheered loudly and she settled an arrogant gaze on him.
Does she pleasure as well as she gambles?
He smiled at her gasp when their eyes met. She had beautiful, faint blue eyes that popped with the blood red mask she had covering half her face. Her eyes pulled away from