Page 45 of Cocky August Rake

Miss Darling’s brows drew together. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means you will receive whatever sum you would ordinarily earn.”

He looked away, only then taking proper notice of the room around them. One of the damned private parlors.

Of course it was.

The knowledge—that this was where she entertained men—settled heavily in his chest.

Reginald’s jaw tightened.

“Why did you bring me here? To one of these—” He gestured vaguely.

Rose’s smile sharpened. “I knew we’d have privacy here.”

“My office is private.”

“Perhaps.” Miss Darling glanced around them. “But this is more comfortable than your office.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Is it not?”

Something in her voice warned him.

Reginald had known where she was leading him. He had followed her through the corridor and watched her open this door. What had he imagined lay beyond it?

She moved closer.

“You say I am not to take clients,” she said. “And that I will be compensated for any income I lose.”

“Yes.”

“Because you want me for yourself?”

Her eyes remained upon his. Taunting him? Inviting him?

“Yes.” There seemed little purpose in denying it. “You know that I want you.”

The admission thickened the air between them.

Resisting had been easier in the light of day, with her prim and proper and arguing with him.

Reginald exhaled through his nose. He had faced storms that split masts and sent sailors scrambling for their lives.

None of them had left him so uncertain of his footing.

“I want you,” he repeated. “That does not give me a right to you.”

Something flickered in her expression.

“I will not use my position to purchase what you would not otherwise choose to give. And I will not take you to bed while there is any chance you believe you must allow it because I own this house.”

Her throat moved.

He continued before desire could silence him.

“I would rather go without.” And he had. All his life.