Page 27 of Cocky August Rake

Reginald never had.

Not because he lacked carnal urges. Or opportunity.

But because of disgust, a disgust that began before he’d even been old enough to name it.

He had not been quite five when he wandered into his father’s rooms and found him with one of the young women who seemed to appear and disappear from the house without explanation. Reginald had been confused then.

Later, when he understood what he had witnessed—and learned that his father had married his mother for money and influence rather than affection—the confusion hardened into revulsion.

To his father, women weren’t people. His wife had been property. The others were pleasures purchased at his whim.

One transaction after another.

Reginald had vowed never to become that sort of man.

Then Rose Darling appeared.

His breath had caught. Heat tightened throughout his body, making him feel suddenly, brutally awake.

But it was not only her beauty.

It was the way she moved, the way she’d watched him. He’d had a sense that she saw beneath not just his mask, but his entire facade—to the man underneath.

God help him, for those moments, he’d believed he’d found the other part of himself. Ridiculous.

The convictions he’d carried for years had gone silent.

At the time, he had foolishly believed her tenderness came from the same inexplicable connection that had swept through him—that perhaps she was the woman he had been searching for all his life.

The woman he had never truly believed existed.

By God, he should have known by her comfort, by her ease, exactly who she was then.

“Reg?”

Sam’s voice brought him back.

Both of them were watching him.

“The men can’t come here,” Reginald said.

The words came out more sharply than intended.

Miss Darling only lifted one shoulder. “Why not?”

Because his men were sailors and the women in this house were not conveniences to be handed over for their pleasure.

And until he had divested himself of The Domus completely, every last one of them were under his protection.

He couldn’t allow his own crew to treat them as commodities.

“Let them come for supper and cards. For music and company,” Miss Darling suggested. “No woman need offer anything if she doesn’t wish to do so.”

Sam’s gaze moved from Miss Darling to Reginald, far too amused.

“You wish to keep your crew.” She went on, more carefully. “Give them somewhere safe to spend their coin. Somewhere they will not be cheated, robbed, or tempted away by another captain before your ship is ready to sail.”

It was sensible.