Read Online Her Notorious Viscount by Jenna Petersen - Free Book Online
Authors: Jenna Petersen
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pretending she didn’t notice he was a man.
But he had caught her looking at his bare legs, his chest, watching his mouth move. On some secret level, Jane Fenton wanted him.
He was accustomed to that, of course. Women had desired him since he was out of short pants. And even more of them since he became a boxer. Pugilists, especially successful ones who managed to keep their teeth, were in great demand from women of all stations. Christ, after the party, where he was decried as a heathen, he had still gotten several clandestine notes from women of the ton , making all kinds of offers for sin and passion.
And that was the problem. He didn’t need rich women throwing themselves at him for secret affairs. What he needed was the attention of the right kind of woman. The fastest way to get back into the good graces of the ton and repair whatever damage he had already done to Anthony’s reputation was to marry someone of good name and fortune.
Not sleep with every widow in heat. And not, sadly, pursue the charms of a woman fallen in station like Jane. If he could manage to clean himself up, he would be on the lookout for a wife, not a mistress.
“Stone?”
Nicholas shook his head. Again, he had been utterly distracted by thoughts of Jane. “Yes?”
“So what about Miss Fenton’s brother? A man who disappeared into the underground so many years ago is likely going to be impossible to find, even if he is alive, which we both know is highly doubtful.” Rage leaned back on the edge of the desk. “How do you intend to get what you want without Miss Fenton discovering that nasty little truth?”
Nicholas flinched. When he’d first offered to find Jane’s brother, he hadn’t cared if he misled her. He still intended to do so, since it would garner him what he desired, but now it left a rather unpleasant taste in his mouth. Especially when he thought of her crumpled face when she turned over the miniature of her mother and brother.
He knew something of her grief. He certainly felt some version of it whenever he thought of Anthony. If only he could pretend his brother wasn’t dead, but lost somewhere.
“I will make some effort to find the man,” Nicholas said as he fingered the silver frame he had put into his pocket when he got dressed after Jane’s departure. “But if she has more faith in my ability than I deserve, who I am to disavow her of that notion? Especially if her continued confidence affords me her assistance?”
Rage smiled. “Ah, well, her inexperience will come in handy then. From a distance, she certainly looked innocent. Like a—”
“Fresh lily,” Nicholas finished quietly.
Rage arched a brow. “I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.” He paced the room and returned to his spot looking out the window.
After years living a profligate life, Nicholas had to focus. To become a “better” man, at least on the surface. And Jane Fenton was going to be there to ensure that happened.
Nothing more.
Jane twirled a loose lock of hair around and around her finger as she stared into her rapidly cooling cup of tea with unseeing eyes. In the background, Lady Ridgefield chattered happily, completely unaware that Jane was lost in her own world.
Actually, that was the problem. She wasn’t in her own world. She was in the dark and dangerous world of Nicholas Stoneworth. And she had been for more than twenty-four hours. Every time her mind was not occupied, it seemed to drift to the man. And more often than not, in her mind he was in the same state of undress as the last time she was with him.
Very distracting when she should have been focusing on what steps she would have to take in order to turn him back into a gentleman.
She shivered as the memory of the dark timber of his voice echoed in her ears. One could not deny that the man had an animal magnetism. That fact had probably done him wonders with loose women over the years. But could it truly translate into the kind of charisma impressive enough
But he had caught her looking at his bare legs, his chest, watching his mouth move. On some secret level, Jane Fenton wanted him.
He was accustomed to that, of course. Women had desired him since he was out of short pants. And even more of them since he became a boxer. Pugilists, especially successful ones who managed to keep their teeth, were in great demand from women of all stations. Christ, after the party, where he was decried as a heathen, he had still gotten several clandestine notes from women of the ton , making all kinds of offers for sin and passion.
And that was the problem. He didn’t need rich women throwing themselves at him for secret affairs. What he needed was the attention of the right kind of woman. The fastest way to get back into the good graces of the ton and repair whatever damage he had already done to Anthony’s reputation was to marry someone of good name and fortune.
Not sleep with every widow in heat. And not, sadly, pursue the charms of a woman fallen in station like Jane. If he could manage to clean himself up, he would be on the lookout for a wife, not a mistress.
“Stone?”
Nicholas shook his head. Again, he had been utterly distracted by thoughts of Jane. “Yes?”
“So what about Miss Fenton’s brother? A man who disappeared into the underground so many years ago is likely going to be impossible to find, even if he is alive, which we both know is highly doubtful.” Rage leaned back on the edge of the desk. “How do you intend to get what you want without Miss Fenton discovering that nasty little truth?”
Nicholas flinched. When he’d first offered to find Jane’s brother, he hadn’t cared if he misled her. He still intended to do so, since it would garner him what he desired, but now it left a rather unpleasant taste in his mouth. Especially when he thought of her crumpled face when she turned over the miniature of her mother and brother.
He knew something of her grief. He certainly felt some version of it whenever he thought of Anthony. If only he could pretend his brother wasn’t dead, but lost somewhere.
“I will make some effort to find the man,” Nicholas said as he fingered the silver frame he had put into his pocket when he got dressed after Jane’s departure. “But if she has more faith in my ability than I deserve, who I am to disavow her of that notion? Especially if her continued confidence affords me her assistance?”
Rage smiled. “Ah, well, her inexperience will come in handy then. From a distance, she certainly looked innocent. Like a—”
“Fresh lily,” Nicholas finished quietly.
Rage arched a brow. “I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.” He paced the room and returned to his spot looking out the window.
After years living a profligate life, Nicholas had to focus. To become a “better” man, at least on the surface. And Jane Fenton was going to be there to ensure that happened.
Nothing more.
Jane twirled a loose lock of hair around and around her finger as she stared into her rapidly cooling cup of tea with unseeing eyes. In the background, Lady Ridgefield chattered happily, completely unaware that Jane was lost in her own world.
Actually, that was the problem. She wasn’t in her own world. She was in the dark and dangerous world of Nicholas Stoneworth. And she had been for more than twenty-four hours. Every time her mind was not occupied, it seemed to drift to the man. And more often than not, in her mind he was in the same state of undress as the last time she was with him.
Very distracting when she should have been focusing on what steps she would have to take in order to turn him back into a gentleman.
She shivered as the memory of the dark timber of his voice echoed in her ears. One could not deny that the man had an animal magnetism. That fact had probably done him wonders with loose women over the years. But could it truly translate into the kind of charisma impressive enough
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