Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Starling burned with the need to hear the widow beg for him, and he intended to achieve his goal no matter what.

The fantasy of Helen gasping his name, pleading with him to take her hard and rough, had him aching and stiff with need all night long.

This was not the reason he was here, Starling reminded himself sternly, giving in as the first hint of dawn light appeared on the horizon, taking himself grudgingly in hand and stroking roughly with his palm until he spent in a hot rush all over his fist.

The slight release helped, but it did nothing to scrub the memory of her mouth sliding over his cock from his mind.

Goddamn. He was well and truly hooked.

At least he could honestly say that he didn't think the woman was cheating at the card tables. He had observed her closely for most of the evening, despite the galling way she had refused to acknowledge him hardly at all.

It seemed she was merely an excellent strategist, who knew when to bet and when to hold. It was not her fault that others were not so careful in their play.

Good lord, everyone knew that just last month, Lord Harding had had to ask his father to pay his debts to the tune of ten thousand pounds or forfeit his standing in society.

Why should the widow not get her share of the coin being thrown around when such sums, even whole estates, were lost in a moment at gaming rooms on any given night?

Starling would just have to tell Lord Holsen that he would have to find the funds to pay his dues, or flee to the continent. After all, the widow was not the only one he was in debt to, and if word surfaced that Holsen was unable to honour his debts, all those who held his markers would start calling in their interests.

Perhaps she was merely the one who wrankled Lord Holsen the most, and as such had become the focus of his temper.

No, Starling found all his attention had been eclipsed by the need to make the widow admit that there was something simmering between them that made him want to steal her away somewhere so he could lock the door and return the favour with his mouth.

And his lips, and his tongue.

She might be the perfect woman for him. He felt it in his bones.

Perhaps she would enjoy joining him on some of his jobs? With her intelligence, intuition and sharp eyes beside him, the pair of them could have London, even the continent, at their feet.

Starling rolled from the rumpled sheets at the invigorating thought, stalking to the washbasin to scrub the evidence of his body's weakness from his skin.

Yes, perhaps that was the way forward.

Show her that as much as she enjoyed trouncing the ton and scooping up her winnings, he could offer her so much more.

Together, they could gather up all the naughty secrets of the rich and powerful until they held all the cards, literally and figuratively.

Starling just had to get Helen Montrose to see the possibilities.