Revealing Ruby (Bound and Determined #1.5)(28)

His morning cockstand was quite happy cradled in the cleft of Ruby’s ass, but it had its own very definite ideas about movement and they definitely did not involve leaving the bed. It didn’t seem to care how many times he’d given in to it last night, one more time was definitely the order of the day.

Only it wasn’t. One would lead to two, and two to…

With a suppressed sigh, he slipped from the bed, looking about the room for his clothing. His boots were there by the door, stockings draped over the top. Breeches and jacket were hung over the back of a chair. Shirt. Shirt. Where was his shirt? Ah, there it was, hiding among the sheets. He should have remembered sliding it down Ruby’s arms sometime in the dark of the night, taking her nipple between his lips and…

No. Thinking like that would lead to nothing but trouble and he’d had more than enough of trouble.

Hopping from one foot to the other, he pulled on his clothing, heading to the door without another look at the huge bed and the woman within it.

His purse jingled in his pocket and he paused, stopping by the dresser.

Did he leave payment?

He pulled the leather pouch from his pocket and hesitated.

It seemed ungentlemanly. She certainly hadn’t asked for money the night before and at no point had indicated that it was expected.

But he was in a brothel.

Fuck. He hadn’t even considered this moment. He certainly could not wake her and ask if she expected payment. His face had endured damage enough over the years without seeing what Ruby’s delicate claws could do.

He tossed the pouch, considered.

If he didn’t pay her and she expected payment then he could never come again. On the other hand, if he left payment and she hadn’t wanted it…

So how did he consider the evening? He had asked her how much and she’d said no, said that she didn’t f*ck patrons. Well, that wasn’t quite what she’d said, but it was clearly what she’d meant.

Only, then she had come to him.

What was a man to think?

He opened the pouch and stared down at the tumble of coins and few folded notes.

And how much? If he were to pay her how much did what they had done cost?

He should have clarified all of this when she’d first come down to him.

Only if he had asked he had a feeling that none of the rest would have happened.

Perhaps that was his answer.

Turning to stare at the sleeping woman, he met her steady blue gaze.

—

He was blushing. Derek was redder than the cherries on her tarts. If someone had told her that the stern sea captain could blush like a schoolgirl she would never have believed them, but there was no mistaking the flush of crimson rising up his sun-darkened cheeks.

Shifting from foot to foot, he looked at her, his gaze shifting from eyes to sheet-covered chest to feet and then back.

What was the man thinking and why the blush? After what they’d done to each other the night before she couldn’t imagine what the man would have to blush about.

And then she saw the pouch. For a moment she paused and examined her own feelings. Was she upset? Most women would have been, but she was not most women. Pushing up on her elbows, she let the sheet fall away, once more sitting naked before him. “Well, have you decided?”

“What?” He shook his head as if trying to clear it.

“Are you planning to pay me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Now that would be entirely too easy,” she said, quirking her mouth to the side. “The question is what you have decided.”

“No, you don’t like to make things easy, do you, Ruby? Or is it Emma?” He took a step back toward the bed.

“Trying to decide if which name I use will give you any clues? It is Ruby. I decided last night that I simply am Ruby. There are brief moments when Emma may flash through, but the woman I am now is Ruby. Emma remained behind when I left my mother’s house and I don’t think that I’d want to be her again. She could not survive the life that I have chosen, and I rather like who I am.”

“And I rather like you too, Ruby.”

She would have expected a leer as he said it, for his eyes to drop to breast and crotch, but he held her gaze steady, his tone suggesting nothing beyond that he actually liked her. And wasn’t that a novel concept? A man liked her because he liked her, not because her breasts were large and he assumed a few sweet words and glances would earn him a place in her bed. He’d been in her bed and he still liked her.

That was a rarity. Most men could not leave quickly enough after they’d had their pleasure—unless they were after more of the same. They certainly didn’t pause on their way out the door to express fondness.

She took pity on him. “I am expecting no payment. I would have been disappointed, but not distraught if you’d left it. Last night was simply about pleasure and the desire to share the dark with another person. If by chance you feel that your purse is too full the church three streets down runs a children’s home that is always in need of funds and you can leave your coin there.”

“I will do that. Not because I feel the need to pay you or to unburden my sins, but simply because on occasion a man should do what he can.” He stood in the doorway, not leaving, but not staying.

“When will you be back?” She had not meant to ask the question, but somehow it found its way between her lips.