Chapter 12

Grace stood at the edge of the corridor, her body tense as she strained to hear over the party's noise. The sound of every passing person's footsteps made her heart race. She hid in the shadows, close enough to see the stairs and every approaching person but far enough to dart farther into the corridor without anyone seeing her—or so she hoped.

The time was ticking by, her face twitching from the nerves. What did she sign up for? She was a harlot, not a spy!

Granted, she had worked with spies before. But obtaining information from drunken fools was different from guarding a man who was going through the papers in another man's home.

Porter's voice drifted up, clear and unmistakable. "I just need a moment in my study."

Panic surged through her veins. Grace spun on her heel, her skirts swishing as she dashed down the corridor. She burst into the study, breathless. "We have to go," she gasped, "Porter is—"

Her words died in her throat as she took in the scene before her. The study was in complete disarray. Papers littered the floor, drawers hung open, and books were strewn haphazardly across every surface. Grace's eyes widened in horror. "Did a storm visit while I was out?" she hissed. "Porter is coming here and there is no way he won't see this mess when he comes in. There is no way for us to explain how this happened!"

Ford, still rifling through a stack of documents, cursed under his breath. He began shoving papers into random drawers, but it was clear they didn't have time to undo the damage.

"What are you doing?" Grace hissed. "We need to leave. Now!"

Ford dashed toward her just as Porter's voice rang out. "I will be right there, darling. Just give me a moment."

Footsteps sounded louder in the corridor, followed by a pause that made Grace's blood run cold. The muffled sound of conversation drifted through the door. It was clear that Porter was not alone.

Grace glanced at Ford, her gaze panicked, and saw a reassuring calmness in him. "Let's go," he whispered and led her out of the study.

They rushed out of the room, Grace's heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would give them away. The hallway was shrouded in near darkness, broken only by the flickering light of a distant candelabra. Porter was still a few feet away. She saw the white of his cravat, suddenly grateful she had made Ford take his off.

As they inched their way toward the servants' exit, Grace held her breath, acutely aware of every creak of the floorboards beneath their feet.

"Is there someone here?" Porter called as he moved closer.

In a flash, Ford whirled Grace around, pressing her against the wall. His mouth found her neck, lips firm and insistent. One hand slid up her skirt, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thigh. The sudden closeness sent a jolt through Grace's body, a mix of surprise and… pleasure.

She played along, letting out a breathy moan that wasn't entirely feigned. Her fingers tangled in Ford's hair as she arched against him. She raised her leg, hooking it behind his knee. If they were to play lovers, it needed to look convincing.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Porter barked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ford asked without taking his mouth off her body, trailing his lips down her skin to the tops of her breasts, sweeping his tongue along the edge of her bodice.

Another moan left her chest unbidden.

"This part of the house is off limits," Porter asserted.

"Right." Ford never raised his head. "Give us a moment."

Porter continued on his way, obviously too preoccupied with the other thoughts to care enough about the wayward lovers. "You better be out of here when I leave my study," he said, moving closer and closer to his study with every step.

"That's the plan," Grace whispered.

Ford paused, his mouth still hovering over her skin. The moment Porter opened the door to his study, they dashed toward the servants' stairs. Ford tugged Grace's arm, moving downstairs, but she tugged him in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Upstairs! He will give chase out of the house and catch us otherwise."

"Cover all exits, no one is to leave this place until they're found!" Porter's cry pierced the air, followed by more shouts and commands. It was enough to have Ford comply. He dashed up the stairs, dragging Grace with him. They quickly reached the third floor and darted into the first empty room they could find.

"We need to make it seem like we've been here forever," Grace said, her fingers shaking as she reached for her bodice.

"How in the world are—"

Ford didn't finish his question as Grace ripped the buttons on her bodice, opening it to his view. "Help me pull down my stays and the shift." She met his gaze and saw confusion in his eyes before his lips split into a mischievous grin. He reached for her bodice and yanked it down in one swift motion, baring her breasts to his view and the chilly air.

His grin turned salacious as he slowly raised his eyes to hers before dropping them to her breasts again.

"You are enjoying this too much," she noted while her nipples hardened against the cold air.

He raised a brow. "Did you not expect me to?"

"We are in danger, should I remind you?"

Ford's grin didn't subside. "If this is the way I go, I'll die a happy man."

Grace let out a chuckle. How could he joke in a moment like this? "Take off your coat and your shirt," she commanded and reached for his coat, helping him discard it. Once his chest was bared—a magnificent, warm, mighty chest… Grace swallowed—

"What now?" Ford asked with a smile in his voice. He'd noticed her staring. Of course, he did. Grace shook her head, forcing her mind to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Now, stand against the wall," she admonished.

"Why would I—"

"Just do as I ask. Porter will be checking every room and looking for the two imposters. We need to make this as real as we can."

He shrugged but complied again.

As soon as he leaned against the wall, Grace tied his wrists with the help of leather straps fastened to the wall by the chain.

Grace wiped her mouth, spreading the red paint all over her face. With the same hand, she drew some red spots on Ford and pinched his skin. She quite enjoyed the warmth of his skin and the firm feel of it beneath her fingers. Pity, she didn't have time to linger and explore the topography of his body better.

She took off her wig and hid it beneath her skirts, ruffling her hair. He studied the top of her head with a frown. "What?" Grace whispered.

He shrugged. "I assumed you were blonde."

Grace rolled her eyes, then looked down at his body. "I am going to undo your breeches," she finally said.

"What?" His voice was strangled.

"A simple kiss or an embrace won't be enough of a distraction. As I said, it needs to seem like we are heavily involved."

"Is that…? Are you going to—?" It seemed he was unable to form full sentences.

"Yes," she said, now confident once more. "Unless you want us to change positions." She smirked. This wasn't a question. She knew he wouldn't want that. He flinched at the thought of kissing her lips, much less doing anything more intimate than that.

Licking her skin in the dim corridor was one thing; that playact would not convince Porter of their innocence this time. He needed to see them stripped bare, not only to seem as though they'd been locked in this room for hours but also so he couldn't draw the parallels between their clothing.

Sounds of panic followed someone barking orders, and then heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor. She arranged her skirts and crouched on her knees before him. Grace raised her eyes to his and Ford gave a nod of approval.

With a quick nod, Grace deftly undid the falls of his breeches and pulled them down around his knees.

His cock was already hard and ready. As the footsteps grew closer and closer to their room, Grace took his cock in her hands.

"Lord help me," Ford muttered, grimacing as his length hardened even more. Grace raised a brow and he just shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, what did you expect?

Grace squeezed him between her fingers, then let herself explore him, stroking his hot, steely length. She liked the feel of him.

Grace looked up to see him watching her with hooded eyes. She leaned down, not taking her eyes off him, and licked the tip. Ford tensed, his cock jumping in reaction. His eyes fell closed with a groan, but he quickly reopened them again.

Grace smiled and he nodded, giving her the silent permission to explore. To do more. To act on her animal instincts.

Grace had not performed this act in ages.

Being a proprietress of a brothel, most people thought she was a deviant and a harlot. She wasn't.

In truth, she hadn't been with a man in quite a long time. And this particular act she was on the verge of engaging in with Ford—normally, she loathed it. For some odd reason, at the moment, she was excited about the prospect.

She knew she needed to be enthusiastic about what she was doing. Anyone observing from outside needed to believe in their passionate encounter. She also knew it was just an act. But the truth was… She was curious about what he tasted like. She'd wanted to put her lips to his flesh ever since she saw him naked in his bathtub. Perhaps even earlier than that, when she pressed her hand to his chest in the secret hallway of her brothel.

She never thought the first thing she would taste was his cock. She waited for the feeling of disgust to arise within her, but it never did.

Whether it was because she actually liked the man she was touching and licking or perhaps because she found his body arousing. She didn't know all the reasons why, but she wanted him. She wanted to taste him. She wanted to bring him pleasure. The simple thought made her dampen between her legs, her body ready for the sweetest invasion.

"Triss," he whispered. She heard a plea in his whisper. A benediction.

He was watching her with need shining in his eyes. There wasn't a demand, nor was there even a hint of power. He wasn't forcing her to do anything for him. On the contrary. With his eyes and the gentle tone in his voice, he was imploring her to continue. He was begging, pleading for her touch.

He was completely at her mercy.

This was an act, she had to remind herself. But for this brief moment, she felt like this was real.

With a delicate motion, she ran her tongue along the tip of his cock, savoring the taste of him before taking him fully into her mouth. His eyes closed in ecstasy, and his head fell back against the wall. Grace felt a surge of power coursing through her veins. This man—with his godlike physique, strength, and unwavering presence—was melting under her touch.

The taste of his skin, the tangy essence that exuded from within, only intensified her hunger for more. Slowly, she moved her mouth lower, taking in more of him as her hand squeezed and stroked rhythmically at the base of his shaft. His breath caught in his throat, the sound of his shackles clinking as he instinctively reached for her. She could feel his desire to touch her because she wanted it, too.

Her free hand traveled up to caress the hard planes of his stomach, tracing every contour, every line. She wanted to feel all of him—to know every inch of this man who stood vulnerable before her.

She could feel the dampness between her legs and a pulsing ache building within her. She wanted him inside of her—deep inside of her—fulfilling the craving that consumed her completely.

With a groan, Ford stiffened, the sound of his shackles straining against the flexing of his arms. His hips moved, thrusting his cock further inside her mouth.

She welcomed it. She welcomed him, greeting him with her tongue, a moan leaving her mouth.

The hardened tips of her breasts ached for his touch, throbbing with need. She closed her eyes and imagined his hands, rough and calloused, exploring every inch of her body. Her center pulsed with anticipation, yearning for the release only he could provide.

With a soft moan escaping her lips, she tightened her grip on his throbbing length, her fingers curling around his heat. Her hand moved in quick, expert strokes as her mouth enveloped the tip, sucking and teasing with every movement.

In her profession as a harlot, she had never known that this act could be this sensual, this… delicious, as her every movement was fueled by raw instinct and overwhelming desire.

This was not just a job or an act to trick Porter anymore; it was pure pleasure and fulfillment of the deepest desires within her soul.

Lost in the passionate moment, Grace didn't even notice the noise outside their room. She didn't hear the approaching footsteps, either. So, she flinched in reaction as the loud, booming voice sounded behind her. "Been here long?"