His Wicked Heart (8 page)

Saxton spoke quietly, dangerously. “I’m
afraid I can’t do that until you leave this woman alone.”

“She doesn’t need your protection. She’s
taken my beatings before. Knows it’s coming when she doesn’t have
the rent.” To punctuate his statement, he slapped her across the
face.

Olivia sucked in a breath, waiting for
Saxton’s reaction. He leapt across the room and hit the heavy-set
man several times. After all of the violence against her mother
she’d been privy to, she ought to have yelled at Saxton to stop.
But this was different. This was necessary. Saxton was saving a
woman, not hurting one.

Mrs. Reddy drooped to the floor but didn’t
crawl out of the way. Olivia rushed to her aid, dragging her to the
side of the room.

The landlady shivered while Saxton continued
to pummel the large man with vicious intent. Olivia’s blood chilled
at how quickly he brought the other man to his knees.

Saxton pulled the man’s arm back at a nasty
angle. “You’re going to leave and never return. Is that
understood?”

“Goddamn you, I own this building!” the man
ground out while trying to suck air into his heaving lungs.

“Is this true?” Saxton asked Mrs. Reddy.

She nodded. “He’s me husband’s brother.”

“Where’s your husband?”

“Long dead,” Mrs. Reddy croaked.

“How much do you owe this man?”

“Nearly twenty pounds.” She shook so
violently, her teeth chattered.

Saxton shoved Mr. Reddy’s face against the
floor then let him go. “How long will you give her to settle the
debt?”

The large man turned, but didn’t stand.
Perhaps he wasn’t capable. “Unless you want to pay, it’s none of
your bloody business.”

Saxton glowered down at him. “I’m the Earl of
Saxton. Anything I want is my business.” With his bare chest and
naked feet, Saxton looked less like an earl and more like a warrior
of old.

Mr. Reddy struggled to his feet with a nasty
grin. “I can call the magistrate, if you prefer. ’E’ll just cart
her arse to Newgate.”

“No,” Mrs. Reddy croaked.

“Can you pay him?” Saxton asked, his eyes
glacial.

Mrs. Reddy shook her head, defeat dropping
her already listless shoulders.

The earl frowned, lines furrowing his wide
forehead. “I presume Mrs. Reddy has your direction. I’ll send
payment in the morning.”

Mrs. Reddy straightened and looked up in
surprise.

Olivia did the same. “You’re going to pay her
debt?”

Saxton glanced toward them. “Yes, but now
she’s in debt to me.” He looked back to Mr. Reddy. “Take yourself
off. You’ll get what you’re owed in the morning.”

Mr. Reddy massaged his jaw. “You’ve a mean
’ook, my lord.”

Saxton’s hands fisted again, and Olivia
wondered if he was even aware of it. “Be happy I went easy on
you.”

Mr. Reddy nodded and left.

The tension coiling Olivia’s muscles
dissipated. She helped Mrs. Reddy to a nearby chair. Scanning the
apartment, Olivia found a bit of toweling and handed it to the
battered woman.

Saxton came to stand before the landlady.
“How did you come to owe him so much coin?” He sniffed, likely
believing the answer was buried in the telltale reek of gin. What
else could it be?

Mrs. Reddy put the cloth to her nose and
tipped her head back to look up at Saxton. “I gave most of it to me
sister. Her husband died, and she’s got a son to feed.”

He massaged his right hand with his left.
“Your brother-in-law seems to think you’re buying gin with the
money that’s owed to him.”

Despite her bruised countenance, a flush was
discernible on her skin. “Aye, I’ve a bit of a thirst, but I
provide for me sister.”

“Why not tell him the truth?” Saxton
asked.

“I tried to ask him for money once. Wouldn’t
even part with a shilling. At first I just told him the tenants
were shorting me, but he figured things out a few weeks ago.”

This must have been why she’d repeatedly
increased the rent. Olivia pitied the poor woman’s sister and her
fatherless child. She stared at her defeated landlady and suffered
a stab of shame for judging Mrs. Reddy as ignorantly as others had
judged her.

At length, Saxton folded his arms over his
chest. His knuckles were reddened, and a few of them bled. “I’ll
pay your debt, but I expect you to work it off.” He sounded
dispassionate, but not judgmental. Olivia couldn’t help but respect
what he was offering Mrs. Reddy. Which only served to make her
attempted swindle all the more distasteful.

Mrs. Reddy blinked with her one good eye; the
other had swollen shut. She smiled, revealing blackened gaps in the
sides of her mouth. “Won’t mind that at all.”

Saxton’s lip curled. “At one of my estates.
In the scullery or wherever your…talents might be best
utilized.”

Mrs. Reddy sobered. “I don’t want to leave me
house.”

Olivia couldn’t believe the landlady’s
foolishness. “It isn’t your house. It’s Mr. Reddy’s. And if you
don’t leave he’ll return and likely use you as a sparring partner
again.”

She looked to Olivia, adjusting the cloth
over her nose. “Not if I pay him, and Lord Saxton said he’d settle
it.”

“Not without something in return,” he said
smoothly, his eyes chilling to ice. “My charity only extends to
those willing to work to better themselves.” It was a fair
expectation from a seemingly benevolent man.

Mrs. Reddy contemplated her lap. When she
looked up again, tears leaked from her eyes. “I don’t know if I’m
equal to the task, my lord.”

“You’d prefer to risk Mr. Reddy’s violence
than do honest work that would help both you and your sister?”
Saxton’s tone now matched the frigidity of his eyes.

Mrs. Reddy turned her head, perhaps unable to
bear the scrutiny of his gaze another moment. Olivia patted the
woman’s shoulder instead of shaking it, which she longed to do.
Tomorrow she would talk her into accepting the earl’s offer.
Really, Mrs. Reddy had no other choice.

Olivia directed her attention to Saxton. “You
should go.”

“You’ll accompany me upstairs.” His mouth was
hard. “We aren’t finished.”

She knew they weren’t, but neither did she
want to be alone with him. She was afraid of what might happen,
what she might allow. “I should stay to comfort—”

He lightly took her arm, steering her toward
the door along with him.

Olivia turned her head to look at Mrs.
Reddy.

“Go on then. I’ll be fine.” Mrs. Reddy waved
her out.

“I’ll check on you in the morning.” Olivia
trudged from the apartment at Saxton’s side, but pulled her arm
from his hand.

“You can’t stay here.” His voice was calm,
controlled. In fact, he’d scarcely showed any emotion toward her at
all since he’d gone to save Mrs. Reddy.

She climbed the stairs. She didn’t like him
ordering her about. He didn’t own her. No one did. “Of course I
can. You have no say in the matter.”

He followed close behind her. “Think about
what you told Mrs. Reddy. What if Reddy comes back, and she’s not
here to satisfy his violent urges?”

He made an excellent point, but right now
Saxton’s presence intimidated her far more than the idea of Mr.
Reddy returning. “I don’t think he will. And even if he did, he has
no quarrel with me.”

Olivia preceded him into the apartment and
went about gathering his clothes. Saxton closed the door after he
entered just as Olivia had piled his garments on the chair. She
picked the bills up from the table, meaning to give them to
him.

He came to stand next to her. “You can’t stay
here. Even if it wasn’t the dingiest, most horrible place I’ve ever
seen, your safety has been compromised. I insist you come away with
me tonight.”

Olivia clutched the money, relieved he’d
dropped the topic of her failed scheme, at least for the moment. “I
appreciate your concern, but I won’t feel any safer in your
care.”

The chill in his eyes made her shiver. “Let
us not forget I’m the injured party here. I’m offering you valid
assistance that any sane woman in your position would gratefully
accept.”

“What I did was wrong, but that doesn’t
change the fact that I don’t want to go with you.”

His grip on her arm tightened, but not
painfully so. “How many times have you and Tilly executed this
scheme?”

“Never.”

His intense stare curled her toes. “So you
screw your other clients. It’s just me you defraud?”

She sucked in a breath, wishing he were ugly
and cruel instead of devastatingly handsome and justifiably
outraged. “No.”

His gaze heated and he pushed closer, his
bare chest a hair’s breadth from hers. It was very difficult to
find her voice. “I lied about being a whore. I’ve never traded my
body for money. To anyone.”

He pressed even closer, bringing his pelvis
against hers. “Should I feel complimented because you considered it
with me?” His voice had dropped to a disturbingly seductive tone.
The words caressed the side of her neck as he leaned in.

Horrifyingly, her body burned where she came
into contact with him. Desire pulsed urgently between her thighs.
Air couldn’t seem to find its way to her lungs. She wanted…she
wasn’t sure what she wanted. “I…needed money.”

“Then take it.” He unfolded her hand, took
the money from her palm, and set it on the table. He traced his
finger around the edge of her face from brow to chin. She should
flee, but could only stand there mute, bound by the promise in his
gaze. “The devil,” he muttered before kissing her.

His lips were soft and so delicious, like
cool water for her parched mouth. He curled his hands around her
scalp and slanted his mouth. His tongue licked at her, seeking
entry.

She shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t want this,
but God help her she did. It had been so long since anyone had
touched her with anything other than passing kindness.

Desperate to lose herself, forget everything
that plagued her mind, she opened her mouth to him. With
devastating skill, he swept his tongue inside and burned her.
Shivers ran to her extremities and collected in her belly in a mass
of longing. She lifted her hands and splayed her palms against the
smooth heat of his shoulders.

She’d been kissed before, but never like
this. He kissed her like he couldn’t get enough, as if she were the
reason he drew breath. His tenderness and deliberation made her
feel precious and beautiful and cherished. The way he stroked her
tongue with his, the manner in which his lips played over hers, the
tender clasp of his hands holding her close…his touch, his scent,
the dark sounds of his body as he worshipped her with this
kiss.

She wanted to wrap herself around him. She
pulled at his shoulders and he answered by grinding his hips
against hers. His erection pulsed against her, making her core
unbearably damp.

His hands moved down, sliding to the curve of
her lower back. His fingers dug into her, driving her against his
arousal.

All the while his mouth continued, stirring
her desire until she thought she might burst. His hand skimmed up
her side and cradled the underside of her breast. She trembled as
pleasure shot through her. His thumb tracked over her nipple. She
wanted to weep with the joy of it.

A strong breeze blew the pound notes off the
table and one fluttered against her arm before drifting to the
floor.
She was not a whore
.

Olivia pulled back. Their mouths broke, and
their mingled breath panted hotly between them. She ached for him,
but if she accepted his money, she’d lose more than she could bear.
“I don’t want you. Not like this.”

He ran his fingers down her neck and dragged
them along her collarbone. “If I lift your skirts right now, your
body will tell me otherwise.”

The truth of his words only enflamed her
more. She had to stop him before it was too late. “You’ll force me
then.”

His features hardened, the desire in his eyes
cooling. He released her, and she sagged backward, her thighs
quivering.

He turned away. A minute passed, and he
didn’t move. Olivia waited to see what he would do, too afraid to
poke the quiet beast.

Finally, he retrieved his shirt from the
chair and drew it over his head. Olivia relaxed, her heartbeat
slowing its frenetic pace. He sat on her bed and donned his
stockings and boots. She silently watched his movements with a
mixture of relief and disappointment. It was for the best. It had
to be.

When he was finished, he stood and looked at
her, his eyes reflecting none of the heat her body still contained.
He picked up his waistcoat and pulled it on, then draped his cravat
around his neck. “You should stay somewhere else tonight. Take the
money and find a hotel or an inn.”

She moved around the table, more comfortable
with the obstacle between them. Not because she feared him hurting
her, but because if he didn’t leave soon, she’d be tempted to
finish what she’d started. “I don’t want your money.” She should
have said,
I don’t want you
again but couldn’t force the lie
from her lips a second time.

“Don’t allow your pride to overrule common
sense. Take the money.”

“And what will you expect in return?”

His gaze moved over her with deliberate
intent. “Your company. And don’t tell me you don’t want me. I know
a woman’s desire, and you
do
want me.”

The arrogance with which he delivered his
assurances kindled her anger. “You presume too much, my lord.”

“I presume nothing except that you will lie,
as you’re doing right now.”

She wanted to dispute what he said, but she
couldn’t. She merely stood mute while her wanton body warred with
her scrupulous mind.

“I’ll come back tomorrow after you’ve had
time to reflect on the benefits—both financial and physical—of
accepting my offer. If you’re still intent to refuse the joy we
could both share, we’ll find another way for you to earn the
money.”