Saving Grace (Fair Cyprians of London 1)

The silence continued.

With a sigh, David gripped the back of his chair, angled his body towards her and trained his gaze upon hers.

Through hers.

With horror Grace registered his vacant stare: the glassiness and the faint scarring around his eyes that nevertheless did not mar his fair handsomeness.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Fortune.”

Grace put her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. He could not see her? What terrible event had befallen him? Shock and pity coursed through her and she nearly burst out, “David, it’s Grace!”

But she could not. Not like this. She could not even move.

“Not the man you were expecting?” His voice was bitter. Devoid of the energy and warmth she remembered. He made an expressive gesture with his hands. “My mother does not intend for me to disappoint my future wife. Of course, that’s not the real reason she asked for … a professional. Apparently this is my birthday present.”

When Grace said nothing he gave a short laugh, adding with a note of apology, “I am not in the habit of entertaining prostitutes. I’m not even sure what to do with you. Perhaps you’d care to take a seat and entertain me instead with your erudite view on the state of English politics.” He shrugged, adding carelessly, “If I’m so very repugnant to you, you’re free to leave, for that matter.”

Grace blinked, stupidly, only galvanised into action when he snapped, “Well, Miss Fortune, what’s it to be? I can offer you nothing. Nothing you’d enjoy, anyway.”

Forcing aside the emotion, she managed to call upon the breathy, suggestive tone of the practised whore she was while she feasted her gaze upon him. “I don’t do this for the enjoyment,” she murmured, stepping forward and running her hands down his well-cut woollen coat, “but I believe in honouring a bargain.”

He jerked at her touch and then laughed, a humourless sound that brought chillingly to mind David’s cousin. The horrible thought that Laurence might be in residence made Grace drop her hands in fear. However the urgency to learn more of what had changed the young man before her from the ardent boy she’d loved compelled her to resume the charade. Seeing David like this, so helpless and vulnerable, unleashed a flood of tenderness which was fast eroding the bitterness she’d cultivated towards him. It was clear he’d met with some accident to his sight yet his dark eyes were still just as expressive. She was struck by the most powerful urge to touch her lips to his beautifully shaped mouth, just as she had …

… the night before they parted.

No, she could not afford to have him send her away. She twined her arms behind his neck and nuzzled him, adding, “So don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth, sir. You’ll have a wife, soon. Enjoy me in the meantime. That’s what I’m here for.”

“An honest whore,” he said, crisply, though with less surety in his tone as he swayed, seemingly unwilling to touch her but not wanting to push her away either. “Still, lying on your back can’t be too difficult a way to earn your living.”

She was not surprised by the sentiment. David had been an innocent with a revulsion for women like herself. It appeared he still felt the same.

And yet he’d not demanded she leave. She was suddenly terrified that he would do so. She had to play on his fascination. Make him want to sample her wares now that her ridiculous longing for him had been so unexpectedly reactivated.

“Honest toil is hard to come by when you’ve lost your reputation,” she murmured, pressing herself to him and raising her hands to trace the contours of his beautiful face. “But an honest whore likes to give value.”

He swallowed and a nerve twitched in the corner of his mouth. It was clear by his reaction that he was struck by indecision, yet intrigued. The David she’d known would have been too disgusted by a woman of the night to suffer her touch. But then, he’d had Grace.

The fact he did not step away suggested that while he was prepared to give his future wife his name he’d not yet given her his heart.

Well, it would be a small victory for Grace to make him want her now, when she hadn’t been able to make him want her enough to discover her whereabouts three years ago after his mother dismissed her.

Steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders she put the tip of her tongue to his throat, to his Adam’s apple, as he swallowed his … Desire? Concern? Apprehension?

He shivered and with seeming reluctance his arms went round her, eventually straying to her lower back, as if he was both fascinated and afraid of moving beyond the realms of propriety.

Grace reached behind her and guided his hand to her rump. Having been given permission, he gently skimmed his hands over her buttocks.

Yet it was she who had to stifle her arousal, forcing out the words, “Would you like to feel more of me?” as she placed his hands on her breasts.

He swallowed as he tentatively contoured the striped silk of her cuirass, making her weak-kneed with wanting as she rubbed herself against him.

His voice was full of doubt. “What will you do? What must I expect? I’m blind. A virgin to boot.”

“An honest whore will give you all the pleasure of which her body is capable,” she murmured.

“Anything?”

She raised herself on tiptoe and ran her fingers through h