Saving Grace (Fair Cyprians of London 1)

He didn’t last long and nor did she expect him to, but she had stretched out her response to coincide with the climactic fury of his—so she could be with him in the moment, join him for the journey and gasp her ecstasy of the aftermath with him.

With her cheek tucked into the crook of his neck she shuddered with him.

“Oh, dear Lord, that was magnificent!” he crowed, holding her tightly, his breathing still heavy as he gently played his fingers against her sex as if her twitching amused him.

As if wanting to prolong the pleasure of their coupling at the same time as reassuring himself her responses were brought on by him alone.

She brought his face round so she could kiss him lightly, lingeringly on the lips.

He did not stop smiling. Reaching out, he touched her cheek, toyed with her hair.

Grace gazed into his eyes. They could not see, but they still registered the depth of his emotion. Did he feel this was more than the practised arts of a consummate courtesan? She’d certainly never felt this depth of feeling before.

David opened his mouth to speak and Grace tilted her head. This had meant something more to him. If she could feel it, surely he could, too?

“Good God, what den of iniquity have I entered?”

The sound of the footsteps crossing the floorboards after the door was thrust open had David instinctively holding Grace to his chest in a gesture of protectiveness.

“Happy Birthday and all that, cuz. Is this the wicked little surprise your mama funded for your majority? Let’s have a look at her, then? I’ll give you my verdict. You, after all, have only her word to go on.”

Burrowing against David, Grace gripped him. Horror clawed at her. She didn’t have to see who their visitor was. Laurence’s arrogant drawl was ingrained in her memory. He was the man who had ruined her life. Ruined the life she and David had planned together. Destroyed her reputation, filled her with fear, sapped her of hope and now threatened to embroil her in his sick, poisonous power all over again.

“Can’t you see I’m entertaining? Get out, Laurence.” David spoke with more authority than Grace had ever heard.

She felt a tiny spark of hope. That she could survive this. Then she heard Laurence’s laugh. Harsh and familiar. He never let anything go.

And he was not about to start now.

“Nice rump. Your mama chose a ripe one. Come on. Let’s see what else she has to offer.”

David’s voice was crisp and Grace felt the effort it cost him to retain control.

“Get out, Laurence!”

She registered his cousin’s advancing footsteps. David did too. And he was clearly concerned for her dignity for he rose from the bed, still holding Grace against his chest as he ordered, “Pass me the dressing-gown from behind the screen. I’ll be damned if you think you can thrust yourself in here with no requisite courtesies. Do as I say!”

To her surprise she heard Laurence’s footsteps hesitate. Retreat.

Could she really be granted such a reprieve?

But no, he’d merely compromised to the extent of snapping the dressing-gown off its hook for now he was advancing towards them again.

“Allow me to help the lady regain her modesty.”

The familiar arrogance, violence lurking just beneath the surface, made her tremble.

“I don’t want your help.” Grace buried her head further into David’s chest and he held her tightly as if he really could protect her.

“She doesn’t want you, Laurence.”

“She hasn’t seen me yet, little cuz. Why, I might be her next customer … if I like her. She gets paid by the client, doesn’t she? Tell me, my coy maiden, was he good? It was his first time, though you probably know that already.” He gave a mocking laugh. “I can promise you much more satisfaction.”

David’s fists clenched. For a moment Grace thought he would strike out, leaving her vulnerable, but he continued to hold her close.

She felt the coolness of the silk dressing-gown as it covered her shoulders.

Then Laurence’s fingers diggi