Revealing Ruby (Bound and Determined #1.5)(13)

He wanted a girl after all. She would not let it bother her. “Do you have any preferences? Blonde? Brunette? Large? Small? Someone similar to Tilly?”

He took one more pace nearer.

Again she felt the mouse to his cat.

When he spoke she could feel the air move. “No. I just want the room. I’ve never slept in a king’s bed before. How can I miss the experience? You did say you just rented rooms—for willing participants.” His voice curled around her ear.

“It was a duke’s bed—or rather a duke’s mistress’s, hardly a king’s.”

“Can you be sure a king never slept in it?”

Ruby considered what she knew of Madame Noir. There was very little that was not possible. “Who can be sure of anything?”

“Then leave me my fantasies. Who knows when they may become real?”

Did the man really think she was that easy? The problem was she just might be.

She turned once again and stalked away from him until she reached a corner of the room. Leaning forward, she pressed on the second strip in the wallpaper. A small passage eased open. “There is a bath and shower bath in a chamber at the bottom of the steps. I will have hot water supplied in about half an hour, after I deal with other things. If you are going to take the room you might as well enjoy the amenities.”

She turned to leave.

“I thought you required payment up front?”

Blast. She turned and held out her hand. Not stating a price.

He walked to his coat and pulled out a sheaf of notes. He pulled one out, dropping it in her hand.

She glanced down. It would do.

She nodded, turned, and forced herself to leave the room. “If you call, someone will bring you anything you require.”

Except you.

She could not be sure if she’d really heard the words.

—

Why had he taken the room? He certainly hadn’t intended to. It was a foolish thing. Well, he definitely knew why he had—but he doubted the curvy madame’s thoughts were running the same way. She’d made it quite clear what she thought about the idea of spending time in his bed.

Bed.

He turned and stared at the thing. It was absurd. It was probably as large as his cabin on the Dawn’s Light and equally as sturdy if those posts were anything to judge by. It might have been a handsome piece of furniture if it weren’t for the ruffles and gilt. Who embroidered their bedsheets with gold? And that canopy—he imagined Spanish treasure galleons had been sunk for less. He took a step closer, glancing up at the underside of the canopy.

He stared. It was painted. Nymphs and satyrs frolicked freely. If “frolicked” was the right word. No, he imagined that no king had ever stared up at that. He was a man of wide experience. What sea captain was not? But there were some things he’d never even thought were possible. Not that seeing a painting actually made something possible. Could a woman’s left foot really curve about a man’s neck while her right foot rose high behind her back? And why would you want it to?

For a moment he pictured the madame in such a position. His cock stirred—but no.

His mind moved to other positions, bent over a desk, her skirts above her waist, her legs spread.

Or lying across that wide bed, splayed and willing, and glistening.

Or kneeling before him, lips parted…

His cock stood at full attention. Waiting.

Yes, he was definitely a man of simple tastes.

He glanced at the open passage. A bath—and at the moment even a cold one—would be wonderful. There were few enough chances for a proper bath at sea and he’d always been partial to cleanliness. And a shower bath? He’d heard of them, but never tried one himself.

With little thought, he shed his clothes, letting them fall to the floor.

He pushed the panel open and walked down the narrow passage. The small chamber at the bottom was already lit with candles. Ruby must have given the order before dealing with the other matters. Steam rose from a large oval bath. The scent of something clean and green filled the room. Fresh, not feminine. Ruby did understand men.

A wooden contraption stood in a round copper tub. He walked over and examined it. A metal chain hung from the tub above. Interesting. He pulled the chain, and stepped back as a shower of water fell from a wooden bucket above. The bucket was not large, the water would run out quickly. He could not imagine having a servant standing by ready to refill it.

Ah, a foot pedal. A pipe. It would take some effort, but…

He stepped over and in.

Braced himself and pulled. Warm scented water fell all about him.

It was not the cold brisk cleansing he had imagined, but given what he’d paid for the room, why not indulge?

—

Ruby heard the drum of the water. She closed her eyes and tried not to imagine that rock-hard body being pelted with drops of warm water, tried not to imagine the water rolling over muscled shoulders and a lightly haired chest, tried not to picture a single drop catching at the nub of a small brown nipple, not to imagine her lips moving closer and…

She opened her eyes and stared into the mirror.

Why had she not stayed downstairs, not performed her duties as she did every night? Why had she come to her own chamber? To the only other room in the house that led to the bathing chamber?

The scene downstairs had not been pleasant. The girl had been all big eyes and trembling lips. It was impossible to determine her age. The child swore she was seventeen and more than willing. Ruby doubted the first and questioned the second, but what could she do? She told Mary to care for the girl for the evening and made a note to have the Countess watched. She would have liked to ban the woman from her house, but unless the girl changed her story there was little she could do. Rules were rules.