His Wicked Heart by Darcy Burke

small clothes, he was
completely exposed to her. He spread his thighs, inviting her to do
as she wished.
    “I’ll be right back.”
    He frowned. “I’d like to watch you
undress.”
    “You said you trusted me, Saxton,” she said
with a light, scolding tone. “I promise you will not be
disappointed this evening.”
    She had no idea what she asked of him, but he
forced himself to relax. There would be other times for him to peel
her chemise from her breasts.
    The swish of her skirts, so alluringly clear
to his hungry senses, faded for a moment. A bead of doubt
infiltrated his sexual haze—had he been wrong to trust her? More
silence. The doubt grew into a dark, fear-laden cloud. His desire
began to fade.
    Her footsteps, so light and soft, reached his
desperate ears. The bed sagged as she straddled him, her bare knees
pressing down on each side of his hips. She inserted her hand into
the slit of his small clothes and palmed him. Lust jolted his
slackening shaft, casting his disappointment aside as if it had
never been. So good, except for the calluses…
    She didn’t have calluses . Her palms
had been soft when she’d tied his hands.
    He pulled back from the hand stroking him,
retreating as far as he could into the mattress.
    Unfortunately, it wasn’t far enough. “Who the
hell are you?”
    Her fingers found him. “It’s me, Livvie.” The
voice was too deep, too rough.
    His desire fled completely and was replaced
with cold rage. Everything about this woman from her touch to her
voice to her name was all wrong. “You may think I’m helpless, but I
assure you I’m not. Tell me where Olivia is.”
    A heavy, gin-soaked breath gusted over him.
“I guarantee you’d rather do this with me. Livvie doesn’t have
my…skill.”
    Jasper doubted that. Pointlessly, she stroked
him again.
    He pulled at his bindings, desperate to shove
her hand away and remove her from his body. “Stop!” he hissed. If
Olivia was nearby, he didn’t want her to know she was on to his
scheme.
    Her hand closed more firmly around his prick.
“Who’s in control now?”
    Her voice now penetrated his confused brain.
The whore from the brothel the other night. What the hell was she
doing here?
    Jasper struggled against his bindings, but
they were well tied. “Take off my blindfold and untie me. If you do
it quickly—and quietly—I’ll give you five pounds.”
    She tore the blindfold off him. Her gray eyes
spat venom. “You cost me a lot more than that the other night. The
madam was right furious with me. Threatened to kick me out on the
street after you left. She’s given me the lowliest, cheapest
customers since. I deserve a bloody sight more than five
pounds.”
    Working to take the edge from his voice, he
modulated his tone. He needed her to let him go, not squeeze his
prick to death—or worse. “Ten pounds, then. Do remember I’m an earl
as you deliberate.”
    Another gust of gin-soaked breath settled
over him. “That’s more like it.” She set to work on his
bindings.
    When both wrists were free, he pushed her off
him. “Cover yourself.” He held his finger to his lips, urging her
to do so quietly.
    Hastily, he drew on his breeches, his hands
shaking with rage. “What was your plan?” he asked softly. “And keep
your voice down.”
    She refastened her dress. “After I shagged
you, I’d get up to wash and then we’d switch back.”
    Fury pooled in his belly and spread, filling
him with vitriol. Olivia had duped him. Purposefully. Anguish
mingled with his anger. Do you trust me ? She’d lied with
every word, every touch.
    He pushed his anger out, toward the hapless
slut. “This is fraud. I could drag you to the magistrate.”
    She blanched. “Have mercy, my lord. I was
only trying to make back the coin you lost me.”
    “Go out and tell her you’re done.” He pulled
two pounds from his discarded waistcoat and gave it to her, not
because he wanted to, but because he felt bad for the plight he’d
caused her. It