Who Wants a Brawling Baron (Romancing the Rake 6)

“Your first?” He stepped out so that she could see his exceedingly large outline, the raw masculine edges of him. “I’m honored.”

That made her smile and she walked toward him, sinking into the darkness. “What did you need to speak with me about?”

“Oh no, I’m enough of a gentleman to know that a lady should go first.”

“Not that much of a gentleman, I hope,” she muttered, not meaning to say it out loud.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice dropping low, the deep timbre of it reverberating through her.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Despite the dark, she heard him make a low noise, deep in his throat that sounded a bit like a moan. She pulled her tongue back into her mouth. “Did you mean what you said earlier? Do lords attend parties where they drink and bed women away from the eyes of society?”

He straightened. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark and she could see his near black irises glittering in the sliver of moonlight that lit the night sky. “Many. Yes.”

A shiver skittered down her spine. Oh, this was terribly exciting. Her idle mind needed this meeting, the information exactly what she craved to fill her thoughts. “What sort of women go to these parties if not ladies? Are they light skirts?”

He let out a sigh. “Why do you wish to know all this?”

She cocked her head. How did one say that she kept busy with parties and gossip because she hated the feeling of quiet? “I’ll marry someday. Knowing all of this will help me choose the right husband for me.” She raised a finger. “Which reminds me. Do good men or bad men ultimately make better husbands?”

He scoffed. “Depends on the man, the woman, and the circumstance.”

“Lord Crestwood and Lord Craven?” She was sincerely concerned for her friends.

He shook his head. “Good, I would wager. They are likely in love.” His tone held a bitter note that caught her ear.

“You don’t believe in love?” She found herself once again drifting closer.

He held up a hand, which stopped her movement forward. But the brush of his fingers on her arm also sent a shower of shivers down her skin. He stroked along the flesh. Other than their dance when he’d held her waist in a firm grip, he’d never touched her like this. She pulsed with excitement at the light caress. “I do.”

That was surprising. “Really? I’d have thought you more the cynical type.”

“Oh, I’m terribly cynical. At least when it comes to myself. But I have a friend and she could use some help and a real chance at love.”

A friend? She? Jealousy flitted through her stomach, making her curl in a bit. “What sort of help?”

He brushed his fingers down the length of her sleeve. “Invitations. Introductions. The sort a marquess’ sister might provide.”

Charlie paused. “You want me to help your friend find a husband?”

“I do,” he answered. “As an unmarried man, I’m ill-suited to the task.”

Charlie shook her head. “I don’t know anything about her.”

Balstead stepped closer. “She’s a lady and a widow. Her husband left her…vulnerable. She needs help.”

She shook her head. “I’m sympathetic but—”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. About men or—”

She stilled. This was getting interesting. “You’ll tell me all about rakes?”

She heard him pause. Were his molars grinding together? “Yes.”

This should be fun. And she didn’t mind helping his friend. Both activities would be a lovely diversion to fill the long, lazy summer ahead. “You’ve got a deal.”

Raithe looked down at the woman who sparkled in the moonlight. Her skin glowed and her eyes looked like pale emeralds. Damn it, but he wanted to kiss her. Drink from those delightful lips.

Which was why he’d been avoiding this woman for months. He liked her fiery nature, her classic beauty, her effortless charm.