Free In Bed With the Devil by Lorraine Heath Page A

struggled not to laugh maniacally. The entire situation was simply absurd and at the same time incredibly fascinating. Winnie would absolutely die if she knew where Catherine was spending her evening.
    The owner of the establishment, to whom she’d been introduced upon entering, also stood in the doorway, leaning back insolently, his arms folded across his chest, his gaze running from the top of her head to her toes and back up. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel his impudent perusal, as though it was a soft touch. Twisting her head, she glared at Jack Dodger. “Are you pleased with what you see?”
    He snapped his gaze up to hers. “Immensely.”
    She allowed her gaze to wander over him, stopping for a heartbeat at the burn in the shape of a T that marred the inside of his thumb until she finally settled her gaze on his dark eyes once more. “I can’t say the same.”
    His chuckle was a low thrumming purr, like that of a large cat preparing to strike. A shiver went slowly down Catherine’s spine.
    â€œHow is it that a lady of the nobility ended up with a backbone?” he asked.
    â€œIt appears you know little of the nobility, sir.”
    â€œI know a great deal about them.” He leaned forward slightly, satisfaction in his dark eyes. “They are some of my best customers.”
    She knew his sort—a troublemaker—the reason decent women needed an escort when traveling on the streets. He was attempting to shock her.She was not easily shocked. She turned her attention back to the arguing couple. “We all have our vices.”
    â€œAnd what is yours, Lady Catherine?”
    â€œNone of your concern.”
    â€œPerhaps not, but it has occurred to me that I might have a position for you in my employ.”
    She glared at him once more. “Do tell.”
    â€œI believe you would fulfill a fantasy for my customers who are not of the nobility that my present girls can’t. I suspect many a gent fantasizes about bedding a woman of your…ilk.”
    â€œAnd what of a lady’s fantasies? Are you well equipped to see to those?”
    He seemed taken aback. Good. She didn’t much like him.
    â€œDo ladies fantasize about bedding?”
    She arched a brow.
    A lazy grin spread over his face. “What do you fantasize?”
    She gave him a slow smile in return and shifted her attention back to the arguing couple. Frannie was obviously agitated. Dear God, at this rate, they’d be here all night. Catherine was already tired. She’d spent a good deal of the afternoon with her father’s man of business and she’d been too anxious about tonight’s meeting with Claybourne to rest earlier that evening.
    â€œThat’s quite enough already!” Catherine shouted.
    Claybourne spun around, clearly irritated with her. Not that she cared a whit about his irritation one way or another.
    â€œYou can’t bully her into this,” she said.
    â€œI’m not bullying her.”
    â€œYou’re bullying her. Can’t you see that she’s terrified by the thought of marriage to you? Not that I can blame her if this is the way you plan to treat her once you’re married.”
    â€œNo,” Frannie said. “No, not marriage to Luke, but marriage to what he represents.”
    â€œThe nobility, the peerage, the upper crust of society. Do you really believe we’re so different?”
    â€œYes. You have all these rules—”
    â€œWhich can be learned, and Lord Claybourne assures me you’re extremely bright and will pick up on the subtle nuances of our society in no time. So shall we get to it?”
    Frannie looked at Claybourne, looked at Catherine. She appeared to be completely defeated. “Yes, of course.”
    Catherine stepped into the room, wondering why in the world Claybourne would want a mouse for a wife. It seemed that more than lessons on etiquette were in order.