Hunting the Hero (2 page)

Constantine peeked through the gap, noting the dark-haired girl was indeed tiny when compared with the madam of the bawdy house. But she had the courage to stand up against a madam who could very likely throw her out into the cold Wiltshire winter without a moment’s hesitation or regret.
 

The madam glanced over her shoulder and he ducked back out of sight before he was seen. He might be impatient for an introduction so he could dismiss his curiosity soon after, but he was interested in their argument too. It was not every day a man overheard an honest conversation in a place like this.

“I refuse to listen to Mallory’s dull playing for one more night,” the dark-haired girl muttered in a smooth, sultry voice that belied her tiny appearance. “She hasn’t the talent to entertain the whole room and your busiest night is always filled with the same faces.”
 

“Lord Grayling has come and needs to be entertained,” Mrs. Cohen answered in a shocked tone.

On hearing his name, Constantine eased close to the door and peeked through the crack again. The dark-haired nymph stood with her back to the fire, rubbing her hands together as if she was chilled through. Judging by the sheer drifts of muslin wrapped about her that revealed the slim curves of her hips, she very well might be.
 

“If Solange is the sort to tempt him, then I’m sure he will be well satisfied,” she said, her tone dripping with contempt. Her shoulder lifted a touch as she dismissed him out of hand. “Lord Squires is always expected at ten. He usually asks for me.”

Mrs. Cohen drew closer. “Squires would be nothing compared to Grayling in your bed. If you would but listen to what was said of him you would not be so dismissive. How can you not accept the challenge of stealing him away from Solange?”

The slim woman turned, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Gossip is seldom accurate and for a madam who should want peaceful relations between her employees, you certainly are stirring the pot of late. Why would you want me to captivate Lord Grayling so well that he sets aside that insipid creature? It’s hardly a fair challenge.”

Constantine choked. They were discussing him as if he were a prime piece of beef. He clamped his lips together and fought to remain silent.

The madam shrugged. “Solange is getting above herself.”

A deep throaty laugh left the smaller woman’s throat, forcing Constantine to revise his initial estimate of her as someone young and inexperienced. “And that shall never do,” she purred. “Very well. I shall do what I can to lure the handsome lord into my bed just so you may prove your point and give Solange the setdown she deserves.” She studied her fingertips by firelight. “I think as a reward I should have another trinket, one for my fingers this time.”

“You and your gemstones.” Mrs. Cohen wagged an excessively bejeweled finger at the tiny woman. “Only if you succeed, Calista. Only if he is sated and comes back for you another night, then I’ll give you half his fee too.”

A devilishly wicked smile twisted the dark-haired girl’s lips, turning a formerly remarkable face into the most arousing sight he had ever beheld. Those lips and whiskey-brown eyes were so damn expressive. What would she look like as they made love? He adjusted his trousers. Damn woman could even affect him through the crack of the door. Her sudden throaty laugh sent chills racing down his spine. “Oh, I’m sure Lord Grayling’s seduction is well in hand. Trust me on this.”

“What would I do without you?” Mrs. Cohen murmured, genuine affection softening her voice. “These are powerful men and must be looked after as if they were made of glass.”

“Not glass, Linnie. Something much, much warmer.” Calista’s gaze shifted to the doorway where he hid. Her lips lifted into a cunning smile as if she knew he was there, listening while they planned his seduction. “I’ve been at this for a long time now and I know what men want. Trust me.”

The challenge was boldly made. All men wanted the same thing from a woman, didn’t they? No demands but on their body, no conversation save for what they expected in bed. There was no doubt her experiences had made Calista overconfident, too. But his curiosity was roused and he was determined to find out more about her.
 

Constantine moved until he stood openly in the doorway, nudging the opening wider so he could view the entire room. Before him, Mrs. Cohen towered over the woman called Calista who didn’t reach higher than his chest. Constantine was drawn to the stubborn, smug glint in Calista’s eyes. They sparkled with the thrill of her dare.
 

Her gaze dropped to his groin and her lips curved into a satisfied smile. Damn woman. She thought she’d won already. However, he’d show her he could hold his own when it came to pleasure. There was no point pretending he was unaware of her game.

He moved into the room and cleared his throat. “An introduction, Mrs. Cohen?”

Mrs. Cohen spun about quickly, her manner changing to one of deference. “Lord Grayling. I did not… I was led to believe you were otherwise occupied.”

Cohen sent Calista a furious glance. Was the girl in trouble with her employer for failing to inform her that a guest was listening to every word they said? He hoped the punishment would not be too severe. “So I overheard.” Constantine smiled winningly at the madam. “However, I believe there is a trinket to be won for a successful seduction. Do you place wagers involving all your patrons? The gentlemen who recommended your establishment will be interested in that tidbit.”

Mrs. Cohen pressed her hand to her brow. “No, never.”
 

Calista strutted forward, hands on her hips, haughty glint firmly in place. God, she had nerve. The bold move placed her between him and the bawd as if the larger woman might need her protection. “This was a private conversation, my lord.”

“About me.”

She shrugged as if the matter were of no importance. “Wagers are placed in any number of places and at any time about many things. Do you take offence to each and every one?”

“I never said I was offended. I just doubt your ability to do as you claim.”

Calista’s lips pressed together as if she was annoyed by his skepticism regarding her prowess in the bedroom. A wild impulse to laugh at her vexation rose in his chest. This woman did not like her claims to be challenged. That made him all the more determined to spend the night in her bed purely to see the lengths she would go to win her pretty bauble from the madam.

Her eyes narrowed to slits. She might be tiny but perhaps she wasn’t as delicate as he’d first thought. Calista was no young miss but a mature woman, one who might have extensive experience in dealing with demanding men. Would she enjoy the challenge of her work, too?

She stepped forward and held out her bare, ringless hand to him. “Calista, my lord.”

He took her hand, noting the coldness of her slim fingers as he kissed the back of them. “A pleasure.”

He released her hand even while imagining that cold grip wrapped around his limbs and other parts. How long would it take to warm her until her skin glistened by firelight? He knew several ways to build a heat quickly, and a romp in between the sheets was certainly the most appealing.

“A pleasure, certainly.” Calista circled him, her hand sweeping over his bottom in a fleeting caress. He withheld a groan, determined not to betray how deeply she affected him. “Not yet, but soon,” she said.

The dark-haired woman raised a brow, as if daring him to disagree with her. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, he accepted her silent challenge. It wouldn’t be him to cry for mercy at the end of the night. She would be the one asking him for pleasure to cease. He held out his hand. “Very soon.”

Amusement twinkled in her eyes and after a moment Calista placed her cold, slender hand in his. “Do you really believe you can handle me, my lord?”

He gripped her tightly, feeling the bones of her hand shift within his. He relaxed his grip but didn’t dare let her go. “Oh, yes. I do.”
 

CHAPTER 2

SINFULLY BEAUTIFUL MEN were Meredith Clark’s weakness, especially ones who didn’t notice the spell they cast over their captive audience. Known only as Calista in the secluded country brothel, Meredith Clark breathed deep, scenting the clean skin and earthy fragrance of Lord Grayling as he filled her starved senses. Her job might be to please those who came into her arms and bed, but gaining a little pleasure for herself in return was always an unlooked-for treat.

“I believe I shall leave you in Calista’s capable hands, my lord. Do be sure to ring if you require the slightest embellishment to your night,” Linnie murmured, casting Meredith a look that warned she’d better not leave him wanting for anything. The madam departed soundlessly. Grayling barely acknowledged Linnie’s departure. He remained apart and returned Meredith’s frank stare.

Meredith’s pulse quickened. Grayling was handsome and had an air of command. A fallen angel sent to lure any good woman to ruin. Not that Meredith’s ruin was possible or even probable now. She’d fallen as far as she could already without being forced to beg. Yet when she looked Grayling over from head to toe, the idea of begging this man for anything involving pleasure held an appeal she could not dismiss easily. Men of his caliber rarely came her way.

Grayling’s eyes flowed over her from the top of her head to dainty, pointed slipper. Not a new situation. A whore was always leered at and she was prepared to be pleasing no matter the circumstances. Meredith looked her best tonight. The cream color of her fine muslin gown left few surprises for a gentleman’s imagination to fill. She enjoyed seeing their stunned, almost slavering, expressions. The majority of her gowns were little better than tissue.
 

However, for the first time in quite a long time, Meredith couldn’t help feeling just a little overcome by a man’s scrutiny. Even if she was dressed in the primmest of gowns, she was rather afraid Grayling would unnerve her. There was an intensity in his gaze that most others of his class lacked. A surety that he was entitled to what he saw and touched and one would like being his property. Crave it even.

Meredith reprimanded herself for becoming so distracted by her quarry. Handsome men were also trouble. She gestured to the far table, cluttered with bottles of spirit and expensive glassware, ignoring the way her body demanded she make him hers immediately. “May I offer you refreshment, my lord?”

His lips pursed momentarily.
 

Surely he didn’t believe she wanted him too foxed to be of any use in bed? Where was the challenge in that? Many a whore used that trick to lessen their client’s desire, but that certainly wasn’t her plan for Grayling. Meredith reached for a bottle and squinted at the label to be sure she held the right one. “Linnie has a fine brandy if you prefer that over the wine you were served on your arrival.”

She flexed her fingers around the neck of the bottle as she showed him what she held, watching his eyes widen and the bulge in his breaches grow as she observed him.
 

Grayling shook his head as if to clear away the fog of lust but then barked a laugh. “Thank you. I do prefer brandy to wine.”

Meredith withheld a grin of triumph, pleased that she’d guessed correctly about him. There had been the faintest hint of brandy beneath the cologne that cloaked him. A man of his power would not sip wine when he wanted enjoyment. The way Grayling watched her was bold and demanding. There would be no half measures for him. What would he expect in bed? Her pulse raced with possible choices. She could think of any number of interesting ways to keep Lord Grayling occupied this evening and she was rather pleased to have rescued him from Solange’s uninspired passions.

The heat of his hands, for instance, would be put to better use wrapped around her naked flesh. She shivered at the memory of his warmth and turned back to the task of pouring drinks, surprised that she was looking forward to the evening ahead more than she usually did.
 

And it wasn’t just the bet she had made with Linnie, although an expensive bauble for her fingers could fetch a pretty penny one day should she need it. She had her future to think of. Getting Grayling to return a second night, and thereby earn half his fee, was another inducement to captivate him. But still. There was something about him that made her believe she’d remember him long after he’d gone. Tonight she might find a memory to treasure on the lonely nights ahead.
 

She served Grayling Linnie’s finest brandy, a smaller portion for herself, and returned to the earl, allowing their fingers to brush his with seeming innocence. She raised her glass. “A toast.”

His dark brow arched farther to show his surprise.
 

“To the esteemed lords of England, Ireland, and Scotland,” Meredith murmured. “May they all be as blessed as you in looks and in intelligence and find their own pleasure before the night is through.”

After a moment, Grayling offered up a smile that spoke of embarrassment, amusement and grudging respect. He drank to her toast. “You are very good,” he murmured in a voice so deep and dark that she shivered.

“Oh, the best you’ve never had,” Meredith replied in as daring a manner as she could manage while simultaneously restraining her own amorous tendencies. It was hard to know who was seducing whom right now because she had the astonishing urge to claim the man as if he were her own personal toy.