Page 13 of Prescription for Sin

“You must be one of the more skilled gentlemen I would ever encounter. Unless you have a sweetheart to whom you must be loyal, you will help me experience orgasm that causes women to lose all their senses.” Her poised voice contrasted sharply with her heightened breathing and the way her fingers twisted in her robe.

Everett stared for a moment, dumbfounded.

“This… This is how you plan for me to repay your kindness?” Everett asked, his voice rough with conflicting desires. “By…bedding you?”

“Yes.”

Everett brought both hands to his face and rubbed slowly. “I… No. I can’t. It’s a terrible idea.”

“Why? Do you find me utterly objectionable?” She lifted her chin, but he caught the vulnerability beneath her bravado.

“That’s not—” He stopped himself, fighting the urge to show her exactly how desirable she was. How could he explain that her brilliant mind and startling directness aroused him more than any coy flirtation? That watching her work had stirred something in him beyond mere physical attraction?

“Or was your earlier bragging merely false bravado and you actually are not very good at pleasuring women?” She frowned, as if the idea had just occurred to her.

“I… No women have complained.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Yet you still hesitate.”

“Because you wish to study me like a specimen under glass. Passion requires spontaneity, Miss Brown. One cannot document desire like a medical case.” And he was sent to investigate her, betray her trust. He could not possibly bed her if he wished to complete his assignment. But Lord help him; her offer was enticing.

“Then teach me.” The words hung between them, charged with possibility. She took another step closer, close enough that he could smell lavender and woman and dangerous temptation.

Everett stared at her, his pulse quickening at the directness of her request. The proper response would be to refuse outright, to maintain some semblance of propriety. Instead, his eyes roamed over her graceful lines and feminine assets.

He swallowed and found himself asking, “And what exactly would you have me teach you?”

“Everything.” She met his gaze steadily, despite the blush staining her cheeks. “The difference between clinical knowledge and true passion. Why some women speak of sparks and others merely endure.”

“Are you speaking of someone in particular?”

“Yes, my sister. She changes entirely when her husband enters a room. Even after years of marriage, they look at each other as if…as if they’re starving. On the contrary, my most dear friend, Helen, spoke of enduring her encounters with her late husband.” She glanced down at her hands. “I want to understand the hunger.”

“Understanding isn’t the same as feeling it, Miss Brown.”

“Then make me feel it.”

At her bold words, heat rose to his eyes while his member gathered strength quite eagerly. The proper gentleman in him warred with baser instincts, even as his investigator’s mind warned him to maintain distance.

She was studying him again with that clinical gaze that both frustrated and intrigued him.

“You seem troubled by my suggestion,” she said.

“Any man would be troubled by such a proposition from a lady.”

“You’re not any man, are you, Mr Hughes?” Her eyes held his. “You sell your companionship for a living. Surely this is a daily occurrence except for no monetary exchange.”

She approached closer and perched on the bed. Leaning forward so the neckline of her chemise dropped, she gave him a glimpse of her breasts, dangling like ripe pears. Intentional or not, it worked. Everett swallowed and briefly closed his eyes as his manhood throbbed with need.

He opened his eyes and leaned forward, trying one last time to dissuade her. His mission was to investigate her, not copulate with her, although it was a delightful prospect. He lowered his voice. “You speak of passion as if it were a medical procedure to be mastered.”

“Then show me how wrong I am. Unless you fear I might learn too much about you in the process.”

That hit closer to home than she could know. Every moment in her presence risked exposing his true purpose. Yet as he watched the candlelight play across her features, he knew with certainty she was hiding alluring secrets beneath that professional façade.

He cleared his throat. “Would you have made this proposition if I weren’t…” He gestured vaguely, guilt twisting in his stomach.

“A prostitute?” Her directness made him wince. “No. I would have maintained my professional distance, but since you are…”