“And I am Elizabeth Bellington,” her sister added.
“Sutton,” he reminded grimly. “You are Suttons.”
“Ah.” With another raised brow, Lady Octavia cast a knowing glance in his direction. “You have only recently arrived at The Sinner’s Palace, then?”
There she went. Asking questions. Causing trouble.
He frowned at the bothersome wench. “My lady, why are you here? You were tol
d not to return.”
Before he had kissed her thoroughly.
Damn him, but owning her mouth had been the best sin he had committed yet.
Wait until I own her cunny as well.
No. Hell no. Jasper struck the unwanted thought from his mind. Ladies were a bad halfpenny. Lady Octavia Alexander in particular brewed more problems than an entire brigade of them. And a virgin lady? He suppressed a shudder and tamped down the desire which never failed to simmer to the surface in her maddening presence.
Terrible.
“You were blustering, Sutton,” Lady Octavia declared, tearing him from his thoughts. “You like my visits.”
Yes, he did. Curse her. Not that he would ever admit such stupidity aloud.
He pinned her with a glare. “I was not blustering.”
“You were.”
“Papa does lots of blustering,” Anne informed their unwanted guest helpfully.
“And cursing,” Elizabeth added. “Not nearly as much as Ma did, though. And he doesn’t have gentlemen friends.”
“But he does have lady ones,” Anne continued where her twin had left off.
“Only, they ain’t truly ladies neither,” Elizabeth concluded.
Lady Octavia’s luscious mouth suddenly took on a pinched quality. “I can well imagine they are not, my dear girl.”
He snorted. “Enough of all this shi—nonsense. Lady Octavia, my daughters need to seek their beds for the night. Hugh will see you safely to wherever you belong.”
Which was decidedly not here at The Sinner’s Palace.
And not in his arms or bed, regardless of how much he wanted her there.
Damned inconvenient cock, lusting over a fancy lady.
He took Anne and Elizabeth gently by the arms and escorted them from his office as they protested, skirting past a disapproving Lady Octavia. And blast her, but the sweet scent of her still haunted his nostrils long after he’d slammed the door at his back.
Lady Octavia Alexander paced the new and well-appointed carpets of Jasper Sutton’s lair, ignoring the broad-shouldered guard glowering at her every movement. Not much had changed within these four walls since she had last dared to venture here. The same massive desk with its carved lion legs—albeit the addition of a recent repair, which rendered a slight difference in the wood staining on the front panel. Still the same sconces on the walls. The same sense of the forbidden. The same scent of him: smoke and sin and sandalwood, running through it all like the currents in the sea.
Tempting, dangerous, forbidden.
But never mind that. She straightened her shoulders and paced with greater intent as she awaited his return.
Octavia knew a great deal about Jasper Sutton.
Or at least, she thought she had.