Don't Tempt Me by Day Sylvia

Author:Day, Sylvia [Day, Sylvia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 0758217633
Publisher: Brava
Published: 2008-01-02T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

I

t was nearly midnight before Simon found Richard Becking in a tavern in an undesirable part of town.

The Englishman was occupying a far corner of the room with a buxom serving wench on his lap and a singing Frenchman to his right. Richard himself was grinning from ear to ear and he lifted a hand in a wave when he spotted Simon approaching.

“Richard,” Simon greeted him, pulling out the only vacant chair at the table. He glanced at the seat, arched a brow, then laid his kerchief atop it before sitting.

“Putting on airs, Quinn?” Richard laughed, as did the maid and the drunk, although Simon doubted they’d understood a word.

“I have recently come into financial difficulty,” Simon said, his mouth curving on one side. “I ruined one set of garments last night. I cannot afford to ruin another.”

“Fighting again?”

“In a fashion.”

Simon studied Becking closely, searching for any lasting ill-effects from his stay with Desjardins.

Fortunately, there did not appear to be any. He was fit and trim, and maintained the understated genial appeal that enabled him to blend in anywhere. His brown hair and eyes were nondescript, his height and build unremarkable, his voice lacking any distinguishing qualities. In short, Richard did not attract undue attention and people found him both innocuous and pleasant to associate with.

Richard kissed the maid on the cheek before shooing her off to refill his ale, then he tossed a coin at the Frenchman and waved him away, too. “How is it that you are suddenly lacking coin?” he asked when they were alone.

“Eddington has seized my accounts.” Simon’s fingertips drummed into the tabletop. “Stupidity on my part. I had no plans to return to England anytime soon. I should have cleared all my assets before departing.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Let that be a lesson to you, eh?”

“I cannot believe he had the audacity to aggravate you in that manner.” Richard whistled and leaned into his spindle-backed chair. “He must be desperate. Quite frankly, I enjoy picturing Eddington in that light.”

Simon’s chuckle turned into a cough, the result of the tobacco smoke in the tavern aggravating lungs irritated by the smoke inhalation of the night before. “When I returned to France with Mademoiselle Rousseau, I thought I would proceed with my life unencumbered. Now, 1 am beset on all sides.

Eddington has proven that my interests are of little concern to him, which leaves me with no one to turn to but you, my friend.”

“I knew it was not happenstance that you would seek me out.” Richard’s face beamed with a broad smile. “But I admit to having had a faint hope that you joined me simply for a night of tupping and drinking.”

“Some other time,” Simon said, thinking of Lynette as he glanced around the large room. She was the only woman he was interested in tupping. He was interested to such an extreme that his ballocks ached, a discomfort he had not felt in so long he could scarcely remember it.

“So tell me,” Richard yelled, as a

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