Page 48 of Cocky August Rake

“Yes,” he said. “It is.”

He watched surprise move through her expression. Her lips parted. Her cheeks flushed.

He stepped closer.

“I'll give you everything you want, as long as we begin with pleasing you.”

WHAT ROSE WANTS

Rose could hardly believe her good fortune.

Had Nell been right? Could saving The Domus truly be this simple?

It ought not to have been. Men did not simply hand women their weaknesses. Not unless they wanted something in exchange. Not unless they believed they could not possibly lose.

But Lord Reginald was looking at her as though he meant what he said. As though he meant to do precisely what she asked.

A slow, dangerous satisfaction moved through her.

Because what she truly wanted was for him to want her.

Enough that, when he promised her anything, he meant it.

And Rose was an expert at making a man want.

Not by refusing him. Refusal was too simple. Too crude.

The true art was in giving a man enough sweetness to haunt him. To make the pleasure so intense, so consuming, that he would offer anything in order to have her again.

And again.

Not marriage, of course.

Rose was not a fool. Aristocratic gentlemen did not marry courtesans. Not even gentlemen who had vanished to sea long enough to forget the usual rules of their world.

But they would offer other things.

Anything to keep a woman smiling at them. Favors. Promises. Money…

“I want you…” Rose licked her lips and watched his eyes drop to her mouth.

The bodice of her gown seemed suddenly tighter than it had been a moment before. The air in the receiving room had thickened. Warmed.

She stepped even closer.

“I want you to undress me.”

His gaze came back to hers. For one brief second, it narrowed. “I said I wanted to bring you pleasure,” he said. The roughness in his voice trailed a shiver down her spine.

“Then undress me.”

“Miss Darling.”

“Rose.” She corrected him.

“Rose.” His jaw flexed.

She turned slowly, so that her back was to him. Not quite in his arms.