Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

Her fingers slipped from his shoulder as she turned, but then her other hand rose to replace it. “Who acts as your hostess?”

Her fingers crept into his hair, just above his cravat, and gooseflesh chased down his spine and legs. He swallowed quickly. “A very good friend. She has a talent for making everyone feel at home and wanted. I’d be rather lost without her, honestly.”

“She sounds perfect.” The whore’s touch slipped from his hair as she glided across the room. Calista stopped before the fire, staring down into the flames. The flickering firelight revealed the slight parting of her slim legs. “Why are you in a brothel rather than with this paragon?”

Constantine shifted in his chair to accommodate his expanding dimensions and pondered what to say of Lady Farnsworth’s place in his life. A truer friend he’d never met. Arabella, his late wife’s good friend and confidant, was a beautiful widow who lived on a property bordering his. But she didn’t view Constantine as a potential husband or even a lover. When his wife had died unexpectedly two years ago, Arabella had smoothly stepped in and propped him up with a light touch and astonishing disregard for potential gossip. They’d never even so much as kissed in greeting, but she came to his house several times each week to jolly him from his bad mood and to cheer his daughters. “It’s complicated.”

“Relationships between men and women often are but rarely need to be.” Calista spun slowly around and the flickering firelight behind her outlined her tempting curves to perfection, and the impact to his lust grew. To his considerable discomfort, their game, a dance of a few light touches so far, had the power to arouse him very easily.

She thrust her hands behind her, toward the flames to warm them, most likely. He’d never met a woman with such cold hands. But the pose also forced her breasts into prominence, revealing nipples swollen to hard points. Unable to maintain a distance, Constantine rose and crossed the room to stand before her, keeping a short space of air between them. The heat from the blazing fire battered his face. He blinked slowly until he grew used to the warmth and then studied the small woman in greater detail. Her eyes were alight with anticipation. She desired him too.

He’d chosen well. He couldn’t wait to get a bed at her back. “Shall we retire for the night?”

Her eyes glinted brightly. “As you wish, my lord.”

The compliant tone was completely false. He doubted Calista was finished turning his world upside down this evening, but he’d prove he was more than willing to keep up. In fact, he might just take the game further than he’d originally intended. What would she do if he held off his release, fought the inevitable end to pleasure as long as he possibly could?

He didn’t like his chances but he was definitely determined to try, just to keep her on edge.

Calista smiled, far too pleased with herself, and gestured toward the door. “Please, follow me.”

Bemused, he trailed behind her like an obedient puppy to the door, opened it, and then strolled after her as her shorter stride practically ran for the staircase. He kept his gaze fixed on her dark, curled hair, then noted the smooth, unblemished skin of her nape, the firm shoulders beneath, and the determined strut to her walk.

His state of arousal ebbed a little and he breathed a sigh of relief. However, when she looked over her shoulder to ensure he followed up the stairs, his length thickened beyond his power to recall it. Damn those eyes. She’d made him as lusty as an adolescent youth.

After a few steps along an upper hall, Mrs. Cohen appeared. Her glance flickered over him briefly. “The end room for His Lordship.”

Bedroom or barn, Constantine couldn’t care less where he spent the night as long as Calista was with him. However, his companion hesitated beside the madam, a scowl replacing her earlier serenity. “You promised not to assign that room to me again.”

“Yes, well, His Lordship deserves the best the house has to offer. All of it.”

Calista’s face grew tight with frustration. Eventually, she got herself under control and replaced her frown with an insincere smile that failed to reach her eyes. She gestured ahead and Constantine eagerly went where she sent him.

He opened the door and allowed Calista to pass by, unmolested for the moment. With rather more relief than necessary, he locked the door to give them the privacy he craved and looked around. Lush red velvet, dulled and slightly aged by the daytime sunlight that would stream through a pair of east-facing tall windows. At night he could see nothing beyond their reflections in the glass, but by morning it should boast a pretty view of the valley beyond.

He was puzzled by his companion’s dislike for the room. As far as he could see, the bawd was being truthful about the room’s superior appointments. Perhaps Calista had no love for red velvet.

Noticing the tense set of her shoulders and her hands clutched together as if she was cold again, he strode to the fire and added enough fuel to increase the warmth of the room. He didn’t want her to become even more chilled when he removed her clothes. The idea of her naked and covered with distracting gooseflesh wasn’t at all what he wanted for the night.

Grasping, sweaty passion would be preferred.

When the fire had flared to greater heat, he dusted off his hands and faced Calista. Her name meant most beautiful. In his opinion the name didn’t suit her because there was so much more to her appeal than her appearance. The mischief leaping from her eyes had blinded him to all others.

She drew closer, a teasing smile on her lips. “Thank you.”

Constantine placed her before the fire. “For what?”

“For sparing me from embarrassment in front of Linnie earlier.” She rubbed her hands together and held them out to the flames. “You were my hero not to refuse my challenge.”

A smile tugged at his lips. He was the sorriest of heroes, but if she wanted to view him that way for one night, who was he to stop her? When her hands shifted to caress him instead of the fire’s heat, he motioned to a small settee. “Will you sit and continue our conversation?”

For a moment he thought she might object and encourage him toward the large bed standing behind her, but she eventually inclined her head. “Hmm. A gentleman through and through.”

He bowed to her, a laugh bubbling up inside him. His thoughts were far from genteel. She made him want to be very, very wild. “I try to be.”

Acting rather more reserved than her earlier behavior indicated she might once they were alone near a bed meant to be rumpled, Calista perched on the edge of the seat as daintily as any well-mannered lady of society. The prim posture was so utterly perfect for her that he was not surprised to be spellbound again. He’d always enjoyed the company of elegant ladies and Calista was a study of contradictions. Lusty and prim, haughty and laughing. It was almost as if she were many women rolled into one.

He sat at her side. “Have you been here long?”