He was certainly grateful she had agreed to remain upstairs in the club, out of sight so she could watch the players. Truth be known, he had a bit of a problem believing this woman would remain unnoticed no matter where she stood.
He’d told the driver to go around to the back of the club when they arrived, even though it was still more than an hour before it opened. Instead of taking her hand in his after he exited the carriage, he reached in, placing both his hands on her waist, and lifted her.
Warmth, softness, and the scent of something exotic had his body once again sitting up and taking notice. He stared into her eyes as he placed her on the ground but didn’t release her.
All was lost when she looked up at him under those thick dark eyelashes and licked her lips. With a slight moan, he drew her to him and crushed her against his body.
Lydia raised her hands and cupped his cheeks, urging him to pull her even closer until they were pressed up against each other like canned sardines. Except Miss Lydia Sanford smelled and felt a great deal better.
He pulled away and scattered kisses along her jawline, the enticing column of her neck and the soft sensitive skin under her ear. “You are so beautiful.” He leaned back and placed his finger under her chin. “I’ll have you know I’ve never had the desire to bed one of my partners. Until now.”
A soft moan escaped her, and she ran her palms up and down his back. He pushed his hips into hers and moved back and forth. A torture to be sure, but he was unable to stop himself.
Lydia’s knees seemed to melt, and he had to hold her tighter to keep her from collapsing. After a minute, he drew away. Even though they were behind the building, they did stand outside. The last thing he wanted to do was destroy her reputation. Shortly streams of men would arrive and he needed to get her upstairs and himself under control and in a frame of mind to work.
He pulled away and smiled down at her. The scant moonlight highlighted her moist, plump lips, now swollen from his kisses. “We need to go upstairs, love.”
She gazed at him with unfocused eyes.
“Lydia.” He took her hand and led her to the back door. “Come.”
They made it to the top of the stairs where they encountered Keniel, the club manager. He looked appreciatively at Lydia. “Who have we here?”
Dante’s muscles immediately tightened, and his jaw clenched. Keniel was too good looking, and a bit of a rake himself. “Someone you need not concern yourself with,” Dante said as he took Lydia’s hand and walked her toward the dining room.
Keniel’s deep, soft chuckle floated in the air as they moved away.
7
They entered a dining room with a sideboard that held an array of food, a pot of tea and one of coffee. Dante waved in that direction. “Several of us eat here before the club opens.” He looked down at her. “Are you hungry?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve had dinner, but I would like a cup of tea.”
“Help yourself.”
Once she fixed her tea, she wandered to the dining table with six comfortable looking chairs surrounding it. It was a pleasant room, and even though she wasn’t hungry, the aroma from the food on the sideboard was tempting. Dante pulled out a chair for her and took the one across.
Driscoll Rose entered the room and came to an abrupt stop, looking in Lydia’s direction. “Good evening, brother. I thought we would not see you for a while.”
“We have an evening off, so I thought to come by and help out.” Dante gestured to Lydia. “Driscoll, this is Miss Lydia Sanford. My partner. Lydia, my brother and also my partner, Mr. Driscoll Rose.”
Lydia smiled. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Rose. I believe we were introduced at a ball a few years ago. It was the coming out ball for Miss Penelope White.”
Driscoll’s jaw dropped. “You have an excellent memory, Miss Sanford.”
Dante laughed. “One needs an excellent memory to keep seven languages straight.”
Driscoll poured a cup of coffee and settled next to Dante. “Something tells me there is a story here.”
“Miss Sanford speaks, reads and writes English, French, Spanish, German, Italian, Russian and Arabic.” He turned to her. “Did I get that right?
To Lydia’s ears Dante almost sounded proud. “Yes. You did.”
Driscoll stared at her for a moment, then said, “No Greek?”
The three burst out laughing and Lydia decided this Mr. Rose had a great sense of humor. “No. I’m afraid I need to work on that one.”
“Where is your wife?” Dante asked. “I thought Amelia is working on the books while you take on the extra duties.”