The Trouble With Being Wicked (47 page)

As they snuggled under the coverlet and cuddled for heat, she gazed out of the child-sized window at the multitude of stars hanging in the sky, and knew the effort had been worth it.

He tugged the blanket higher over her shoulders as a brisk breeze blew in. His arms enveloped her from behind.
 
He cupped his hands around her breasts, content to awaken her body slowly—though to be sure, she was plenty ready after he’d made her wait so long.

He nuzzled against her neck. “I once likened you to a falling star, you know.”

She laughed low and wedged closer to him. “How very poetic of you.”

“Oh, you have no idea. I used to compose sonnets to your beauty.”

“You didn’t!”

“No,” he admitted. “But I thought about it.”

“I would never have guessed it.” She cupped her hands over his, enjoying the feel of his broad knuckles under her soft palms. She’d missed this even more than she’d known.

He flipped her onto her back and sheltered her body with his. “I’m full of surprises.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“That,” she said, twitching her hips against the thick erection pressed between them, “is no surprise, my lord.”

He began to slide against her rhythmically. “I promise my Lady Trestin has never seen the likes of it.”

A low moan escaped her as he rubbed her in just the right place. It felt so
good
to be with him. She cuddled into him, absorbing his warmth, feeling his broad chest against her breasts, and made love to him by the light of the candles. As he took her again and again, claiming her as his own, she decided he had been right. The tree house was definitely worth saving.
 

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The Trouble with Being Wicked

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Did you know t
here are more Naughty Girls books?

This novel is the first story in a tightly connected six-book series. To receive updates on future book releases, please sign up for my mailing list at
http://emmalocke.com
.

In order, The Naughty Girls books are:

The Courtesans

The Trouble with Being Wicked (this book)

The Problem with Seduction (Winter 2013)

The Art of Ruining a Rake (Winter 2013)

The Hoydens

The Danger in Daring a Lady (Fall 2013)

The Importance of Being a Scoundrel (2014)

The Hazards of Loving a Rogue (2014)

Turn the page to read an excerpt from the next

Naughty Girls book

Read on for an excerpt from

The Problem

with

Seduction

An outrageous proposition…

Elizabeth Spencer needs a man. Preferably one who won’t be too picky about the morality of her proposition, or his reputation. Lord Constantine Alexander can’t afford another trip to debtor’s prison, which makes him the perfect candidate. She doesn’t expect him to have a heart of gold, or to hold up his end of the bargain—particularly when his high-in-the-instep family gets involved. Nor does she expect to find him irresistible, because while she needs a man, she doesn’t particularly want one.

A wicked bargain

When a beautiful courtesan offers to satisfy his creditors, Con leaps at the opportunity. Never mind that his mother and brothers are suspicious of his newfound fortune—being with Elizabeth is intoxicating enough to wipe any thought of scruples away. He soon realizes it’s not just his future he’s been gambling, but his future family. How can he convince London’s premier courtesan he’s more than a callow rake?

Chapter One

Surely this was the first and only time Lord Constantine Alexander would ever approach another man and utter the words, “Pardon me, sir, but I believe you have my baby.”

Activities at the closest gaming tables ceased. Patrons cocked their heads or leaned forward in expectation of witnessing a scene that would no doubt be fodder for the better part of the night, if not the week. Con did his best to conceal his nervousness. A slightly mocking smile curled his upper lip; only he knew it felt more like a grimace. He had no idea how Captain Nicholas Finn would reply to his allegation—or indeed, if the larger, more seasoned man would even use words. An accusation like the one Con had just made could end in fisticuffs, or a call for his second.

He would really rather not get shot tonight.

Captain Finn’s jaw slowly snapped shut. Con had carefully rehearsed his speech to make it leap out like a pithy charge, but the captain had been given no such notice to prepare his rebuttal. Con clearly had the advantage of surprise.

Captain Finn’s brown eyes narrowed in hard-edged disbelief. A muscle at his jaw tightened. Otherwise, he maintained control. “Who the hell are you?”

“Lord Constantine Alexander, at your service.” Con capped it off with a rakish flourish of his arm and quelled the urge to shift under the other man’s rancor. He couldn’t afford to fail his mission. That meant Finn couldn’t have any reason to doubt his claim. But Con didn’t like how it made him feel, having Finn look at him like some disgusting thing that had attached itself to the bottom of his boot.

Con tightened the mocking smile on his lips into a smirk. A man who’d just publicly claimed to have impregnated another man’s mistress would smirk, wouldn’t he? Otherwise, if he were
not
a cocky cad intent on embarrassing his opponent, he would have done it all in private. “Well, do you or don’t you have my son?” He was careful not to twitch his fingertips against his leg. He must look sure of himself. He tilted his head to the right, as if having to do complicated maths in his head. “By my counting, you do.”

Finn thumped his empty tumbler onto the cloth-covered gaming table, causing a hollow knock that shook Con in his boots. Finn rose. Even standing, he had to tilt his head to glare into Con’s face. “I don’t need to count backward to know my own son.”

“Measure twice, cut once, my tailor says.” Con grinned, though he didn’t feel like grinning—far from it. But appearances had to be maintained. Ten thousand pounds would stop the moneylenders in their tracks. The first term of his assignment was clear: he wouldn’t see a shilling until the baby was returned to its mother. He needed this to work. It all added up to his freedom—each crisp pound note guaranteed he wouldn’t have to spend another night in King’s Bench, the debtor’s prison that all but had his name etched on a cell wall.

He grinned as if the rest of his life didn’t hinge on the next few moments. “I believe this has all been a misunderstanding,” he explained loudly enough for anyone who was listening to hear. “Please, allow me to set the events straight so there can be no doubt.” The second stipulation of his assignment dictated that Finn could have no recourse. If all went to plan, the men right here in this room would spread their accounting of this debacle across every club in London, leaving Captain Finn no possibility of reneging once the baby had been restored to its mother.

“Four months ago,” Con said, “you were summoned to a tiny hamlet in Devon by Elizabeth Spencer, who had been your mistress for the majority of three years. You were presented to an infant you were led to believe had sprung from your loins. Do I have the right of it so far?”

Finn didn’t spare a glance for the ring of men watching with unabashed interest. He didn’t stop to suggest that he and Con retreat out of doors, out of earshot. Instead, his eyes bored into Con’s with an intensity that made it hard not to squirm. As if he cared with every iota of feeling in him about what Con was saying. As if Finn’s whole life hung in the balance.

Con felt the first twinge of guilt.

“Well,” he continued when Finn’s only reply was a deepening of that discomfiting stare, “why did you think she was in Devon? It wasn’t to see her family. I hear they aren’t on speaking—”

“What are you trying to say?” The question burst out of Finn in harsh, clipped syllables. His lips didn’t quite touch afterward, giving him a feral, angry look. Con had never had a man bare his teeth at him before. Not in all seriousness, at least.

He really,
really
didn’t want to get shot.

But if he had to choose between a bullet and the gaol—a very real choice he could be making in the morning—the bullet might be more survivable. Just the thought of being relegated to a damp, dark cell weighted his lungs until it felt as if an entire militia were stomping across his chest. When it came to being locked away again, his own terror might do him in. His fear helped him now to sound beleaguered, as though it pained to explain what he’d hoped would be obvious by this point. “
I
live in Devon. She went to Devon to have my baby. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

A collective gasp from their onlookers was followed by several occurrences of “I say!” and one “Really, that was not well done of you, Alexander.”

Finn seemed to double in size, as though his fury made him physically larger and not just more intimidating. “That’s absurd. Elizabeth panted after my attentions for five years. She would never have—” But he stopped.

Con barely kept himself from smiling with relief. He’d done it! Put the thought in Finn’s mind. It
could
be Con’s baby. The notion was hardly farfetched. Elizabeth was an elite courtesan. She needn’t remain faithful to a lover who’d repeatedly and publicly tried to wash his hands of her. Who’d spent so much time sailing the oceans that she might have taken a legion of bedfellows without his knowing a whit of it.

Whether or not she had done so, Con really wasn’t in a position to know.

Finn advanced a step. “She was my mistress. Not yours. You cowardly, bloody
whelp.
I demand your retraction. Go on. Take it back.” Finn swung his arm wide and Con flinched, belatedly realizing Finn meant to include the gaming hell crowded with men, not plant him a facer. “None of you have laid a hand on her, not in the last three years. She’s mine. Elizabeth Spencer is
mine.
”

A choked cough somewhere in the back of the room drew a new level of silence. Awkwardness hung thick in the air, as each man present discernibly struggled to decide if it had been a tickle in a throat or a smothered admission of guilt.

Finn spun in the direction of the cough. Finally freed of his drilling stare, Con breathed a bit easier. He rubbed his damp palms against his coat. Yet his heartbeat thumped in his chest so hard, surely everyone could hear it. He hadn’t yet convinced Finn his mistress had been unfaithful, after all. The child wasn’t in Con’s arms—yet. He wasn’t clear of King’s Bench—yet.

“Who did that?” Finn demanded. “Which one of you sniveling bastards wants to join young Alexander in a fist-pounding?”

Seconds of silence felt like minutes. Con resisted the urge to shift uneasily. If one more man would come forward, this would be so much easier. But the silence held.

Finn turned to face him. “See? You’re a liar.”

“She isn’t yours now, though, is she?” Con’s steady voice surprised him. He could’ve sworn Finn’s boot was already pressing on his throat. “And she hasn’t always been. You’ve given her up a time or two, if I recall correctly.”

Finn glowered. But he didn’t argue the fact.

Con drew his shoulders back. As he’d done with every creditor who’d ever dogged him, every angry friend who’d ever demanded he fulfill an IOU, he feigned nonchalance. “You replaced her with Millicent Kimble. A delectable piece, I credit you, as was Mrs. Brooks before her. And a little over a year ago, if I may relate your history aloud, you were keen on Beth Rawlings. I can’t fault your taste, Finn, but I must say, women do have a strong dislike of being jilted.”