The Widow's Auction by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online Page B

all it took to procure them a private room adequately furnished for a night of wild debauchery.
    So Lady Kingsley wanted to see if she could “bear to be with another man”? Very well, he’d humor her awhile longer. He seriously doubted that her resolve would stand firm when she was faced with the stark reality.
    As they climbed the stairs behind the hotel manager, he told her, “Forgive me for not taking you to my town house, but my mother and sister are there, and I didn’t think they’d appreciate my bringing a masked woman to dine. Or stay the night.”
    â€œI should hope not. But why didn’t you take me to wherever you take your lights o’ love and your mistress?”
    He gaped at her. “Good God, woman, do you think I have a bloody harem?”
    â€œWell, no, but a man like you–”
    â€œHas better things to do than loll about with a variety of loose women all day.” What kind of profligate did she think he was, for God’s sake? “When I have a mistress, I keep her in a house of her own.”
    â€œAnd when you don’t?”
    He couldn’t believe he was having this highly inappropriate discussion with Lady Kingsley. Then again, until today he’d never thought to have been kissing her passionately either. “When I don’t, I abstain.”
    She eyed him askance.
    â€œMen of sense don’t engage in liaisons with whores.” A wicked impulse made him add, “Only liaisons with merry widows like yourself.”
    She had nothing to say to that, though a pretty blush suffused her cheeks.
    In the next moment, they reached their floor. The apartment they were shown into was as close to a private love nest as he could have wanted. It lacked any scandalous sculptures or lurid paintings–this was the Clarendon, after all–but the furnishings were lush, the bed prominent and inviting at one end of the room, and the fireplace stoked high enough to reveal a thick fur rug lying before it. A classic setting for seduction if ever there was one.
    He watched her closely for her reaction. When she remained silent for several long moments after the hotel manager left, Justin felt compelled to speak. “Have you any complaint with the room, madam?”
    She started. “Not at all. It’s wonderful. Almost exactly as I imagined.”
    â€œAs you imagined?” So much for shocking her.
    â€œOh, yes.” She slanted a shy look his way that made his blood pound. “Though I could never have imagined what happened in the carriage.”
    â€œNor could I,” he mumbled under his breath.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing.” He tried to leer at her, though the concept of leering was foreign to him. “I merely wondered if you’d been imagining what’s going to happen here.” He nodded toward the bed. “Or rather, over there.”
    â€œOf course.” Slowly she faced him. Then with shaking hands, she opened her pelisse and let it slide from her shoulders onto the floor. “I only hope that I can be. . . um. . . satisfactory.”
    When she approached him with a hesitant smile and a swing to her hips that would have done any light o’ love proud, every muscle in his body sprang to attention.
    Then a knock came at the door–the servants bringing their dinner. He nearly tripped over a chair in his haste to let them in. At this rate, he’d never last the night. He began to wonder if Lady Kingsley had a twin. A wanton temptress of a twin bent on driving him insane.
    The servants laid out a vast spread of covered dishes and left. She surveyed the crowded table, her unabashed delight further inflaming his desire. “What’s for dinner?”
    Fornication. And for dessert, more fornication . “Take a look,” he choked out.
    She circled the table, uncovering the first few dishes–pea soup and turbot in lobster sauce and mutton cutlets and boiled