Burning for the Baron by Alyson Chase

Author:Alyson Chase [Chase, Alyson]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: AMZ
Publisher: Alyson Chase
Published: 2018-06-13T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“Will you move your arse?” Max growled at his friend. “But do it slowly, or you’ll tip over the damn phaeton.”

Dunkeld shifted, dropping the flannel-wrapped bricks he’d been arranging on the floor. Sinking back into his seat, he raised one burnished eyebrow. “Well, someone’s got their smallclothes in a twist. And I’m not the one who chose this dainty little contraption over our usual carriage. Why did you put two hulks like us in a phaeton?” Dunkeld peered over the side. “The springs will never be the same.”

“Who gives a flying fuck about the springs of a rented phaeton?” Max cracked his neck. A breeze drifted under his beard, cooling his throat. He tried to remember how the air felt against bare jaw, before he’d grown his beard as a way to distinguish himself from the rest of the sots of the ton. Colleen thought the beard made him look like a goat. He swallowed. That was most likely the kindest thing she would think of him from now on.

“We should have stayed for a round at The Boar’s Head after learning that your Dancer was at sea. Your demeanor would be much more pleasant with a drink or three in you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my demeanor,” he bit out. “And the man’s not my bloody Dancer.” Absurd name.

“What’s the matter?” Dunkeld asked. “The lovely widow turn you down?”

Max clenched his jaw and refused to take the bait. If a friend couldn’t take a little unreasonable carping, then what good was he?

Dunkeld’s gaze sharpened on their target. Pinkerton emerged from a bakehouse, a long baguette wrapped in paper tucked under his arm. Twitching the reins, Max set a slow pace to follow the American.

“I ran into Lady Fletcher on St. James street the other day,” Dunkeld said. He leaned back in his seat and propped one boot up on the front bar. “She asked after you. If you need to rid yourself of excess energy, I think she would be more than willing to accommodate you.”

“Not interested.”

His friend swiveled his head to look at him. “That woman has the ripest breasts in London and she’s generous enough to share them. And you’re not interested?”

They were spectacular breasts. And Lady Fletcher was as adventurous as she was well-endowed. But his cock didn’t even twitch at the prospect. Besides, “They aren’t the ripest in London.” Those belonged to the woman who was probably even now plotting her revenge. His mouth watered, remembering the velvety softness of her nipple on his tongue. The succulent pink of her areolas. The way the delicate skin had puckered under the heat of the flame.

Shifting in his seat, Max could feel his friend’s incredulous stare. Fuck it, he didn’t owe Dunkeld any explanations. And he wasn’t going to share any stories about Colleen. His friends already knew too much about his bed sport. He wouldn’t subject Colleen to their scrutiny.

“And who, pray tell, does that honor fall upon?” Dunkeld shifted onto one hip. “Not your bonnie

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