Submitting to Lord Rockwell by Em Brown

Author:Em Brown
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc.
Published: 2013-02-07T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

The warmth between her legs flared once more, but she forced her mind to the task. “You have me at a disadvantage. I have but your word that you will honor both the word of safety and your wager.”

He pulled back and stared deep into her eyes. “Your dilemma is understandable. I can only ask that you trust me.”

Her heart throbbed with excitement and fear. Thriving in a gaming hell necessitated the constant assessment of character, and her instincts gave no alarm with Lord Rockwell. She wanted to place herself in his hands, but she barely knew the man. And yet she had never felt more at ease in a man’s company.

A hundred pounds. It was too grand a sum not to take the risk.

“Very well, Lord Rockwell, I accept.”

His smile reached his eyes and she sensed her relief reflected also in him.

“I promise you will not rue the hand you lost at vingt-et-un.”

He led her to a mirror and stood once more behind her. It was most disconcerting for she knew not what he would do, nor could she read his countenance.

“Tell me what arouses you,” he instructed as his hand brushed the skin above the back of her bodice.

“You are most forward, Lord Rockwell, and I have no intention of giving you any assistance in winning your wager.”

She saw his smile in the mirror.

“Touché. I will discern the answer nonetheless.”

He began to unbutton her gown.

Dialogue could prove a good distraction, she decided. “How many women have you entertained in this chamber of yours?”

The answer should dampen her lust.

“You are most forward, Miss Herwood.”

She could not help a grin at his response.

“I have not kept count.”

“Several?”

“Define ‘several’.”

He eased the top of her gown down her arms. It pooled at her feet. She watched in the mirror as he untied her petticoats next.

“Four or more?”

“Or more, certainly.”

The petticoats fell to the ground. She blushed at the sight of herself in chemise and corset. He began to unlace her corset without effort.

“Should not a man of your stature be seeking a wife instead of indulging in prurient interests?” she asked, averting her eyes from the mirror.

“Should not a woman of your situation be seeking a husband instead of gambling at a gaming hell?” he returned.

She bristled. “I asked first.”

“A wife is easy enough to attain. I see no reason to rush.”

How she wished she could claim the same of a husband!

“I am earning my dowry, if you will, at the gaming hell.”

Clever response, she praised herself.

“You require a husband with funds, not a man in search of a dowry.”

She pursed her lips at his obvious statement, which made quick work of her smugness.

“It is no easy matter to find a man with funds and possessing a decent character.”

“Especially in a gaming hell.”

Their dialogue was proving quite effective, for now anger trumped all that she felt. To her surprise, tears threatened. She was well aware that her current finances necessitated her spending time in a gaming hell, which dimmed her marital prospects and future security.

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