Free Lady of Pleasure by Delilah Marvelle Page A

time.
    That is…until Caroline came into his life seven years to the breath and made him realize there didn’t have to be anything sexual between men and women. There could be intelligence, compassion, laughter and above all, companionship that wasn’t tainted by lust or the gormless games women played with men. But seeing Caroline again, after three years of being apart from her, made him realize none of that applied anymore. Because he was attracted to her. And it wasn’t a simple oh-she-is-pretty sort of attraction. No. It was a shred-all-of-the-clothes-from-her-body-and-bang-her-into-every-wall sort of attraction.
    It was something he didn’t want or need. Spraying lust on what they shared would only mar her, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Which he would. It was best to avoid her. In fact, it was best to never look her way again.

Friday evening
    The Hawksford Residence
    The damn thing really was cursed.
    Hitching up her moonstone gown from around her stockinged legs, Caroline kicked off her satin slippers and frantically climbed up and onto her massive bed. Whipping aside the lone remaining pillow that hung from the edge of the bed, she crawled across the cleared mattress, patting and sliding her gloved hands along the smooth linen around her. She had tucked Caldwell’s sovereign beneath her pillow just this morning. Where did it go?!
    A gargled male laugh drifted toward her from the open doorway. “Dare I even ask what you’re doing?”
    Caroline froze, her hands and knees still planted atop the mattress, her evening gown billowing up to her elbows. She cringed and peered toward Alex who had quirked an inquisitive brow from beneath the rim of his top hat.
    His green eyes mocked her as he crossed his arms over his chest, causing his evening coat to tighten around his shoulders. “And I thought I was fond of my bed.”
    Always the court jester and always at her expense. “Cease. I’m looking for something between the linens.”
    “Aren’t we all.” He dropped his hands back to his sides. “Get off the bed. We’re late. The Whittle ball already commenced twenty minutes ago.”
    Caroline grudgingly scooted herself toward the edge of the bed and hopped down onto the floor, landing beside her overturned satin slippers. “I can’t leave until I find my lucky sovereign. I don’t know where it is.”
    He groaned. “Caroline, don’t do this to me. It’s not like I enjoy going to these festivities. I’m only going because of you.”
    Using her right foot, she positioned her slippers upright, shoved her feet back inside, and hurried around the bed toward him. “And I’m only going because of you. Imagine that. You think I like associating with superficial tarts who all gossip about us when we aren’t listening?” She waved him aside from the doorway he was blocking. “Please step aside. An unspeakable crime has been committed and I have no doubt the four culprits better known as our sisters are responsible for it.”
    Alex pedaled back into the corridor, allowing her passage. “They have probably ceased announcing people by now.”
    “I know, I know. I will do my best to hurry. Just let me find it.” Of all nights. Caldwell was going to be there. She couldn’t engage him without his sovereign tucked away in her dress. It would be like walking up to him without her heart. She had gotten so used to carrying it with her these past three years. “Wait for me downstairs, Alex,” she called. “I’ll be right there.”
    “Five minutes,” he called back. “Or I leave without you!”
    One would think the man was getting married. Caroline hurried down the length of the candlelit corridor. She eventually paused before the first of the four bedchamber doors. Seemingly innocent silence hummed, but she knew better. None of her sisters ever settled into bed before nine. They were congregating somewhere.
    Methodically moving from one closed door to the next, Caroline keenly listened for any