Chapter Three

A sher lounged back on the velvet-covered chaise, a glass in one hand and a cigar in the other. Amusement flitted across his face as he watched Simon stagger across the room before he fell into a nearby chair. Asher had bet Simon wouldn't be able to perform with one of the women upstairs considering the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. Simon had retorted that he hadn't had that much to drink and taunted Asher so much about his abilities to perform that the two men had left the tables together and paid for the pleasure for two of Mrs. Dove-Lyon's… ladies. The prostitutes at the Lyon's Den were not your typical women of the night that you might find elsewhere in London. As with everything else at this establishment, these women were of the highest caliber.

A blonde-haired beauty with her bosom spilling from the gown came and sat directly in his lap. He sat back to enjoy her attentions, knowing that his chances for such pleasures would be severely limited once he took over his brother's care.

The woman began untying his cravat with an expertise that showed that she knew her way around an intricate knot. She smiled warmly into his eyes with a promise of what was to come. She ran her fingertips through his blonde hair before she leaned forward to breathe into his ear.

"Can we leave your friend and head to my room, my lord?" she purred sweetly.

Asher put down his glass and cigar on the nearby table before he pulled her close. "You must have read my mind, my dear," he replied with a wicked grin. He tried to claim her lips, but she suddenly pulled back.

"No kissing. That's too personal," she warned before she began opening his shirt. Those same silken fingers ran over his slightly furred chest as if to distract him from attempting to kiss her again.

"But I paid well for the privilege to have you," he declared taking her about the waist.

"Yes… and you shall have me anyway you'd like—but no kissing," the woman replied.

"What if I pay you more?" he asked.

Her eyes went wide. "You couldn't pay me enough to break my one rule."

"I've been told I'm a fair enough kisser. You might just like it and not ask for the extra coin," he teased her.

"No man is that good," she said laughing.

"Care to put my ability to the test?" he asked lowering his eyes to her mouth. She licked her lips as though giving the suggestion a fair amount of thought. She gave him a smile as if she would concede and began lowering her head.

The door to the salon burst open and Asher frowned at the interruption.

"I told you I'd find them here," Lucius muttered to the two men who followed him into the room. Valentine, Earl of Carrington was a friend of Lucius's. They had met on several occasions over the years. The other gentleman was Benjamin Barclay, Earl of Somerford, whom Asher knew only from seeing him from time to time at the Lyon's Den and various other places around town.

"Ben!" Simon yelled from across the room. "Come join us in a bit of sport."

"I think not," Benjamin declared before he turned back to Lucius and Valentine. "I think the Earl of Rockliffe is in more need of our aid than your friend."

Lucius nodded and returned his gaze back to Asher. "If you're done here, your presence has been requested."

Asher laughed, fondling the woman who remained on his lap. "Done here? We've barely begun."

Lucius crossed the room and held out his hand to the woman. Her fingers slipped into his, and he pulled her to her feet. "If you would give us a moment," Lucius insisted focusing on Asher who took up his glass again.

"Of course, my lord," she said seductively. Her hand lingered on his arm before she crossed the large room to stand near a sideboard where she poured herself a drink.

Asher sat up on the chaise and watched with a frown as Valentine and Benjamin assisted Simon to his feet.

"But I paid good money for that woman," Simon complained bitterly as he stumbled across the room.

Benjamin shook his head. "And I'm certain she'll appreciate the reprieve from your fumbling attempts to make your little man work."

"I'm not that drunk," Simon slurred.

Valentine laughed and then spoke over his shoulder. "We'll see that his carriage is brought around. He'll have a splitting head come the morning, but we will, at least, ensure he gets home safely."

Asher chuckled. "I think I have won our bet, Simon," he taunted as Simon cursed as he was led from the room. The woman he had paid for left as well to find other company for her evening.

"What foul substance did you put in his drink downstairs?" Lucius asked before he ran his hand through his black hair.

"Not a thing. He was well into his cups to celebrate his good luck of having a winning streak at the tables. He'll be fine come the morning with the exception of one hell of a hangover," Asher proclaimed before he tipped his glass in his friend's direction. "So, what is of such importance that you had to interrupt me?"

"Mrs. Dove-Lyon would like to see you," Lucius stated with a wicked grin.

Asher choked on his drink and Lucius began pounding him on his back.

"The devil you say!" Asher finally managed to say once his coughing subsided. "What in the world could she want with me?"

Lucius shrugged. "I didn't ask. It's none of my affair. I was only told where to find you so you might meet with her. You best hurry. It's never a good idea to keep the Widow of Whitehall waiting."

"I'll be down directly," Asher replied as his gaze traveled to the woman across the room who beckoned to him with her eyes.

"Don't be long," Lucius said as he headed to the door.

Asher stood and the woman who had been in his lap returned to his side.

"Now…" she said pressing her body against his, "where were we?"

"I believe I was about to show you what a good kisser I am," he grinned as he began following down a hallway to her room.

The Widow of Whitehall could wait, he thought as he pulled the woman into his arms to ravish her mouth. He heard her moan proving his point that he was indeed very good at pleasing a woman. Sometimes it was very satisfying to be right.