Free Her Mystery Duke by Natasha Blackthorne

and the landlady will ask for my percentage.”
    “Your percentage?”
    “Yes, she’ll assume you’ve paid for my time. She expects a
percentage of that.”
    “Of course. But I am talking about something far greater
here.”
    “I don’t need greater compensation.”
    “You’ll be compensated.” He pushed himself up and stood. All
the blood rushed from his head.
    “Sit.” Her voice sounded sharp. Panicked.
    A reddish black haze appeared before his eyes.
    “Now!”
    His knees buckled and he veered toward the bed, falling
across it.
    “God, what were you thinking?” Her voice rose with a
shriller note of panic this time.
    He gazed up at her, confused. He’d always been able to press
through any fatigue. “I must get back to my life.”
    “You may send a message for your carriage, first thing
tomorrow morning.”
    He opened his mouth to protest. To tell her that he must
send for it right away. He needed to get back to the House of Lords. But
blackness rose up and swallowed him whole.

Chapter Five
     
     
    David’s face burned pleasantly from the razor. There was
nothing like a clean shave after feeling so beastly. The scent of elderberry
tea wafted up, a faintly nauseating odor. He was thoroughly sick of the
horrid-tasting stuff. He pushed the cup aside, took the bottle of ale, and
poured a generous libation into another cup and took a deep drink. What he
wouldn’t give for a cup of good, strong, plain, black tea.
    “Here are the latest newspapers from this week.”
    He looked up at Jeanne but without truly seeing her. His
mind was filled with the need to know what had transpired in the House of Lords
in his absence. He all but jerked the papers from her grasp. The second- or
third-hand wrinkled paper bore splatters of tea or coffee or God knew what. He
scanned the headlines. The bill had squeaked by and passed the committee by one
vote.
    Relief flooded him and he sat back in the chair, then he
glanced back at Jeanne.
    She shrugged out of her pelisse and laid it over a chair.
Beneath, she wore only her nightdress. Morning sun filtered in the dingy little
window. It made her hair glow like gold and shone through the thin fabric, casting
her curvy body in soft light. Small, pale pink nipples strained against the
cloth. Her softly curving waist and luscious hips and thighs were like a
goddess’s.
    His gaze traveled back up and focused on her lips. He
recalled how soft and warm they had been on his cock. But he had not yet tasted
them. And suddenly he wanted to, very badly. She was so young, and with her
large eyes, short, button of a nose, and rounded, rosy cheeks, she was very
pretty, in a fresh-faced country-girl kind of way. Quite a change from the
sophisticated courtesans of Mayfair. He quite liked it.
    She had so obviously enjoyed sucking his cock. He didn’t
think he’d ever known a woman who had enjoyed it as much. He certainly had
never enjoyed it as much, despite the brevity of the act due to his own
weakness. Well, he wasn’t feeling so weak now. What must she be like to ride?
He couldn’t seem to think of anything else but burying himself cods-deep inside
her.
    Yet her very desirability made her wholly unsuitable for the
way he lived. He’d tried keeping a mistress once and it did not mesh well with
his life.
    Passionate women were always trouble.
    And Jeanne was very, very passionate. Even more so than
Thérèse.
    An image of his former mistress’s dark, youthful beauty, and
then the corruption and ruin of that beauty, rose vividly in his mind, cooling
his ardor. He took a deep breath. No, he couldn’t bear another disaster like
Thérèse. He’d never risk it again.
    He should leave here directly. He should forget this girl
with the perfect form. He would never have even become involved with her if he
had been in his right mind. He looked down at her and opened his mouth to tell
her farewell.
    Her clear, blue gaze met his, full of such hunger that he
caught his breath. Heat entered his