Chapter Twenty-Nine
Taking the arm he offered, Primrose alighted gracefully from the carriage.
“We’re at your club?” Her veil didn’t dampen the excitement in her voice. “Is this my surprise?”
Andrew hid a smile. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”
Steering her past his guards, he led her through his private entrance at the back of the club. She’d pestered him about her surprise the entirety of the ride over. When that hadn’t worked, she’d playfully attempted to seduce it out of him. She’d peppered his face with kisses, her bottom wriggling enticingly in his lap—and she’d done this knowing that a coterie of his men had been right outside, riding along for protection.
Something had definitely changed in her since their lovemaking last night, he mused. Perhaps that mirror had helped her to see how beautiful and sensual she was, peeling away another layer of her inhibitions. He couldn’t wait to see what else lay beneath. His little minx was taking to sexual exploration like a duck to water, and anticipation simmered in him as he thought of the games ahead.
“I need to fetch something from my office, and then we’ll be off,” he told her.
“Off to where?” she said immediately.
“That’s for me to know, you impatient wench.”
Although she pretended to pout, she took the hand he held out to her, and they traversed the hidden corridor, sounds of the club filtering through the walls. Past midnight, the festivities were just getting underway.
“I can’t stay out too late.” She’d pinned up her veil, her eyes luminous in the dimness. “I have plans on the morrow. I’m paying a visit to—”
“Mrs. James and the dowager countess. Yes, I know.” He aimed a wicked look at her. “I’ll try not to tire you overmuch.”
“How did you know about my plans?”
“Kent told me.”
“Papa?” She blinked owlishly. “You spoke with him today?”
“Most every day, sunshine. To coordinate your protection.”
He stopped, opening the panel that led into his office. As he led her into the room, she was uncommonly quiet. Pensive. He recalled her initial resistance to him contacting her father, his buoyant spirits deflating. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to minimize her family’s exposure to him. He wondered if she was embarrassed about having an ex-prostitute as her lover, and his gut balled.
“The meetings are brief and address only the plans for your safety,” he said in clipped tones. “Your father and I discuss nothing personal. I have no wish for an appointment with him at dawn.”
“I trust you.” Her voice was quiet as she removed her bonnet and veil, placing her woolen cape over the back of a sofa.
“Then why are you disquieted?” Opening a drawer of his desk, he searched for the key he needed with studied carelessness.
“I’m not disquieted; I’m surprised. Papa didn’t mention that he was meeting with you. Actually, I am glad that you and he are getting to know one another.”
He gave her a swift look. “Are you?”
“Yes. I imagine the two of you get along. Being so alike.”
“You think your father and I are alike?” he said incredulously.
Ambrose Kent was a gentleman, one who commanded respect due to his honorable character and pursuit of justice. Andrew was a bastard and a pimp.
“Well, yes.” Primrose faced him across the desk, running a gloved finger over the polished edge. “You’re both men of honor. Both protective of those you care about.” She wrinkled her nose. “And you both like to tell me what to do.”
Her words flooded him like sunlight, reaching into his darkest corners and chasing away shadows—ghosts that he hadn’t realized still lurked. Out of nowhere, Bartholomew Black’s voice emerged. Every man’s got a weakness. Beware o’ females, Corbett—they’re yours.
Andrew couldn’t deny that he’d been used by women in the past. By Kitty, his customers, even his former employee, Nicoletta, who’d manipulated him as part of her nefarious plot against the Earl of Revelstoke. He had ample reason to be cynical, hardened toward the opposite sex.
Yet with Primrose, he couldn’t form any sort of callus over his emotions. With her, he felt everything. She was different from other females: she didn’t just take from him… she gave.
Rounding the desk corner, he caught her by the waist.
“The difference is that you like doing what I tell you to do,” he said. “Admit it.”
She looped her arms around his neck. With her dimples peeping out, she looked so adorable that his heart stuttered. “Perhaps I don’t mind that dictatorial side of you too much.”
“Then kiss me,” he challenged.
Her lashes fluttered. Then she rose on tiptoe. The soft brush of her mouth set fire to his blood. When she lapped at the seam of his lips like an inquisitive kitten, he let her in. The kiss grew hotter, and, before he knew it, he’d planted her arse on the desk, her skirts ruched in his fist—
A banging pierced his haze of lust.
“Corbett? Are you in there?” Fanny’s insistent tones filtered through the door. “I need to speak with you.”
With an oath, he set Primrose on her feet and instructed, “Wait here.”
He stalked to the door, cracked it open. Fanny stood there, fist raised to knock again.
“I’m busy,” he said shortly.
“You’ve been busy for the past week. We need to talk about the Nursery—”
“What nursery?” Primrose’s voice emerged from behind him.
Fanny’s gaze darted over his shoulder. “What’re you doing here?”
“I’m here with Andrew,” Primrose shot back.
Christ. “Fanny, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said impatiently.
“But I have a new list of items that need to be approved for the Nursery—”
“What is this nursery she’s talking about?” Primrose demanded.
Before he could answer, Fanny drawled, “A milk-fed miss like yourself wouldn’t understand. Then again, there’s a lot you don’t understand about Corbett here, isn’t there?”
“I know him better than you do,” Primrose snapped. “You’re nothing but his employee. A bumptious old bawd.”
“Better a bawd who knows how to really please a man,”—Fanny’s hand slapped onto one out-thrust hip—“than some green chit who thinks lying on her back is all it takes. Really, Corbett, don’t you get tired of showing her around the bedchamber by her leading strings?”
“Shut your mouth, Fanny,” he growled, “and be on your way.”
The menace in his tone finally sunk in; his employee flounced off.
The minute he closed the door, Primrose rounded on him. “Are you sleeping with her?”
“I’ve already told you the answer to that,” he said curtly.
“Have you slept with her?”
“For Christ’s sake, no.” Striving for patience, he raked a hand through his hair. “I do not have sexual affairs with my employees. Ever.”
“What is this nursery, then?”
Seeing the suspicion in her eyes, he realized there’d be no peace until she had her answers. Stubborn chit.
“Although I encourage the use of contraceptive measures in the club, accidents still happen. The Nursery House is a new initiative of mine, a place where wenches can go to deliver their babes safely. Fanny is helping me with the project.”
“Oh.” Primrose’s lashes fanned. “So that is all you and Fanny are doing together—working?”
“Yes. Now I’ve explained the situation to you, and I expect you to let it alone.”
She drew in a breath, and he prepared for further argument.
What he didn’t do was brace himself for her to rush pell-mell into him. His torso rocked back as he absorbed the shock of her embrace. Her arms locked around his waist.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled against his waistcoat. “I don’t mean to act like a jealous fishwife. I just don’t want you wanting anyone but me.”
His arms closed around her. “I only want you, Primrose.”
She tipped her head back, and he was startled to see the moisture gleaming in her eyes. “Truly?” Her voice hitched. “Even though I’m petty and shallow and act without thinking?”
“Sweetheart, you’re not petty or shallow, but you do have to learn to trust me.”
“I do trust you.” Vulnerability shadowed her fine features. “I just don’t understand why you like me. When you’re so handsome and worldly and,”—her bottom lip caught beneath her teeth—“you could have someone far more experienced. Who knows how to please you.”
That was what she believed? Her thinking mystified him. At the same time, his heart tumbled helplessly, bruising his chest with tenderness.
“You please me, love.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. “More than anyone I’ve been with.”
“Even if I’m a… green chit in the bedchamber?” Her gaze searched his.
“I like that you’re inexperienced,” he said quietly, “that I’m the only one who has the privilege of making love to you. I get to explore your desires with you. Me—and no one else. I’ve never had that before, never felt possessive over anyone before you.” He trailed his thumbs down her neck, loving her shiver of awareness, loving everything that she gave him. “You belong to me completely, Primrose, and that is the finest gift any woman has ever given me.”
“I’m so glad.” Her eyes shimmered. “Because you have given me so much.”
He was tempted to kiss her again. But if he started, he wouldn’t want to stop—and he didn’t want to spoil what he had planned for her.
“Since that’s settled,” he murmured, “let’s get to your surprise, shall we?”
She blinked, as if she’d forgotten all about it. Then she wrinkled her nose. “You mean that delightful exchange with Fanny wasn’t it?”
“Minx. You’re going to enjoy what I have planned far more.” He took her hand, his blood quickening. “We both are.”
~~~
Rosie’s hand trembled in Andrew’s large one as they ascended a private stairway to the top of the club. Her excitement mounted with each step, her nipples puckering against the silk robe he’d provided for her. She was nude beneath the fine gold fabric embroidered with peonies, as was he beneath his black robe, a silver dragon breathing fire across his broad back. The fact that they were traipsing through a pleasure house practically naked was undoubtedly wanton—and yet there was something strangely right about it too.
She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it had to do with having her hand in his. With seeking out adventure together. With Andrew by her side, she felt brave and strong, like an explorer ready to chart a new world.
They arrived at the top of the steps, where a closed door waited.
Andrew unlocked it. “Ladies first,” he murmured.
She stepped inside, her eyes widening at the sumptuous chamber, her slippers sinking into the thick ruby Aubusson. The walls were papered in soft gold silk, a gilt and crystal chandelier showering sparkles through the intimate dimness. A large tester bed occupied the back of the room, a wide red divan the front. Oddly positioned, the divan faced a blank wall.
Andrew came up behind her. His warm breath caressed her ear. “Like it?”
Desire tremored through her. “It’s very luxurious,” she managed.
He led her over to the divan, sitting first and pulling her onto his lap. With only the thin silk between them, the granite ridge of his cock pressed against her, making her squirm.
A smile lurked in his eyes. “One of these days, love, I’ll teach you the pleasures of waiting.”
“I have been patient. And I adore my surprise,” she said, playing with the lapel of his robe, “so can’t we please get on with things?”
“Sweetheart, you haven’t even seen your surprise.”
She canted her head. “I haven’t?”
He reached over to the wall, sliding open a panel that had been camouflaged by the pattern of the wallpaper. A pair of viewing holes appeared, and the sudden swell of sound caused goose-pimples to prickle over Rosie’s skin.
“Here’s your surprise. Go on,” he said huskily. “Have a look.”
Leaning forward, she did.
Her eyes widened at the sight of men and women—a dozen, maybe more—frolicking inside a circular arena decorated in a style reminiscent of the Near East. Blue arabesque tiles covered the walls, gauzy material flowing in the white plaster archways. Thick rugs and large jewel-colored cushions covered the floor, upon which people were engaging in astonishing sexual acts.
Rosie’s gaze landed on a blonde, whose breasts bounced as she gyrated atop a man reclined on pillows. Her eyes migrated over to a redhead kneeling in front of another male. His scarlet member pointed at her like a lance, and she wrapped her hand around it, dragging her fist up and down…
Nearby, a dark-haired fellow was rutting a brunette, who was positioned on her hands and knees—like a farmyard animal! When a blond man approached, she winked at him… then took his cock in her mouth. Her voluptuous body jiggled as she was jousted between her partners, one at each end…
Reeling at the vibrant debauchery, Rosie turned to Andrew. His eyes had a wicked, seductive gleam. Her breasts tingled, her pussy moistening in a hot rush.