The Gentleman Who Loved Me (Heart of Enquiry Book 6)(41)

“Because it would make you rich?”

“No. I mean, money is nice, but I have everything I need from Mama and Papa. I didn’t marry Daltry for that reason. What I want is the title—the position. I want to be called my lady, to be welcomed in the upper echelons, to have the ton acknowledge that I belong,” she said with a touch of defiance. “See how awful I am?”

“No.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, making her shiver. “I don’t.”

“You must be blind then,” she said decisively.

Crinkles appeared around his eyes. “My vision is quite acute. In fact, I see you more clearly than you see yourself. And I know what you really want.”

An arrogant statement, no doubt. Yet she couldn’t help but ask, “What do you think I want?”

“To be free of fear.” His knuckles skimmed along her cheekbone, his touch as mesmerizing as his words. “You’ve been running for so long, haven’t you, sweetheart?”

His words resonated like music in a cathedral. Pure, soaring in their accuracy. Suddenly, she realized she was afraid—had been all her life. Images flashed: walking on shaky legs down that dark dock to where Sir Coyner waited, holding her mama at gunpoint; waiting by the window whenever Papa was late coming home from work, her small hands clenching the sill; hearing Mama’s moans of pain during Sophie’s birth…

A dark undertow sucked at her, threatening to pull her under.

Heart pounding, she fought to stay afloat. You can’t do anything about the past. Focus on what you can control. Your future—that is what matters.

“I hate caring what Society thinks,” she said in a suffocated voice, “but I do. If Daltry’s family manages to annul the marriage, then I’ll be ruined. I’ll be the unwed harlot who eloped and spent the night with a man. I’ll be a pariah.”

He studied her, his hooded gaze giving nothing away.

“There is only one solution,” she plunged on. “When the physician examines me, I can’t be a virgin. You’re the only one I trust to help me.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. Still, he said nothing.

“Andrew, would you please,”—she summoned all her courage—“take me to bed?”

He rose, a violent movement that rocked the cushion beneath her. Lines of tension slashed around his sensual mouth, his eyes no longer hooded but blazing with anger. His hands bracketed his lean hips.

“Why me?” he said.

She wetted her lips, her mind spinning with reasons. “Because you’re a man of experience. You understand my situation—that I’m only asking for one night… I mean, I hope that was clear,” she said in a rush, realizing she had not said this aloud and wondering if its omission was the cause of his sudden temper. “This would be done strictly as a favor to me. There would be no further obligation on your part afterward. I would hope, however, that we would part as friends.”

“I see. Because that is what friends do. They fuck and then they leave.”

His mockery cut like a razor through the last threads of her composure.

She shot to her feet. “It was a mistake to come. I don’t know why I did.”

“You said so yourself: you needed a man of experience.” He raised a brow. “Unless I seriously underestimated your boldness, I doubt you know any former prostitutes other than me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she cried. “By experience, I was referring to the fact that you’re a man of the world, and nothing seems to rattle you. I sought you out because I believed you could understand my less than conventional request. Obviously, I was mistaken. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

She nearly made it to the door when an arm hooked her waist from behind. Her back met with a wall of rigid muscle.

“Don’t go.” His breath was harsh at her ear.

“I’m not going to stay and be ridiculed—”

“I’m sorry.” His chest heaved against her spine. “I thought you came to me because of what I used to do. And I didn’t like that.”

When she pushed against his arm, he let go. Whirling around, she studied him—saw the sincerity etched across his hard features… and the shadows in his eyes. Understanding dawned that he had a past to run from as much as she did.

“It takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” she said softly.

“Pardon?”

“What you said about me running from my fears. You’ve been running too, haven’t you?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I’m not ashamed of my past. I did what I had to; it’s made me who I am. But I’m no longer that man—and I won’t be used in that fashion by you or anyone.”

“I understand.”

She really did. Due to her tarnished reputation, plenty of men thought they could get a kiss—or more—from her without consequence. Being seen as an object, a play thing, had made her feel dirty... like soiled goods.

Andrew had made the choice to use his assets as a means of survival, and he wasn’t apologetic about it. Nor should he be. Even so, it couldn’t be easy knowing that he’d once been bought and sold as a commodity of pleasure.

“The last thing I want is to use you, Andrew.” She exhaled. “In truth, I owe you far too much already. I can never repay you for what you’ve done on my behalf.”