His Client by Ava March

Author:Ava March
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: M/M BDSM Historical, Source: AllRomanceEbooks
ISBN: 9781607379287
Publisher: Loose Id, LLC
Published: 2011-01-11T00:00:00+00:00

Jasper trailed a fingertip over the mahogany dresser, disturbing the faint hint of dust on the surface. “Does the furniture remain with the house?”

“Yes, everything you see remains with the house.”

The current owners had not left everything, but most of the necessary pieces remained. He would only need to purchase a comfortable armchair for the sitting room, a desk for the study, and a bed. The other two bedchambers and the one he currently stood in were by no means empty, but he wanted something larger for himself than a bed that appeared to barely fit two. Not that he planned to have company. No, highly doubtful someone in Shere would wish to share his bed. But after enduring that narrow thing at Delacroix’s, it would be well worth the expense to roll over and not worry about landing on the floor.

“Would you like to have a look at the kitchen?” Mr. Miller asked. “Then I can show you the grounds.”

A good five inches below Jasper’s six feet and with a well-rounded belly, the solicitor was a pleasant fellow. He looked approximately fifty years of age. Jasper guessed the man managed the sale of properties for those in the neighborhood as more of a courtesy. Shere was certainly not large enough for the task to serve as a regular source of income.

Jasper tipped his head and followed Mr. Miller out of the bedchamber and down to the first floor. Comfortable and unassuming, Westborne Cottage could not come close to rivaling the grandeur of Delacroix’s, yet it was definitely a far cry from the tiny boarding house room in St. Giles, with its broken windows covered with dirty rags, that he had called home in his youth. Mr. Miller had shown him one other property before the country house. A rather large property. Jasper had no need for servants’ quarters or miles of farmland. But this one…

A smile spread across his mouth as he entered the kitchen. The room fit with the rest of the house. Not too small, not too large. Clean and tidy yet it gave the distinct impression it had been well lived-in. Copper pots hung from an iron rack above a wooden worktable. Ivory curtains dotted with red flowers framed a window situated above a white basin sink. A stove, plenty of cabinets, and the narrow door in the corner likely led to the larder. Everything a kitchen needed.

“Are you married, Mr. Reed?”

“No, no wife,” he said as he opened one of the cabinets, revealing a neat stack of dishes. Nor would he ever have one, but he kept that to himself. At only twenty-seven years of age, no one would question his lack of a wife. Most gentlemen did not settle into married life until their thirties. To Mr. Miller’s knowledge, Jasper was simply a young gentleman from London of reasonable means who had grown tired of the city. If the man knew Jasper worked as a prostitute, never mind had a preference for those of his own gender, he would not be so accommodating.

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