Absolute Pleasure Read Online Free Page A

graying hair was askew, his robe crookedly tied. Floppy woolen socks covered his feet.
    "I'd given up on you and went to bed," he mentioned gruffly as he strode in, his voice husky from sleep, his eyes drooping.
    As he scratched his chest, and made for the sideboard and his own drink, Gabriel stifled a chuckle. During the day, his father was the ultimate fop, never a hair out of place, never a wrinkle in his clothing or a thread hanging loose. Though he'd been estranged from his family for nearly three decades, he'd been born the fourth son of an earl, and he'd never shed the foundations that were the bedrock of his intrepid, dashing temperament. He was a man of refined, expensive tastes and extravagant, cultivated predilections.
    Fastidious, in his carriage, in his behavior, those with whom he regularly interacted would be shocked to view this homey, familiar side of him, the one he reserved solely for his cherished and only son.
    "Sorry for the delay."
    He pulled up a second chair. "Why aren't you smuggled between a pair of silk sheets with your delightful countess?"
    "She had to break it off." Gabriel pressed the back of his hand to his brow in a mimicking imitation of the woman's earlier upset. "She couldn't bear to say adieu, but there was no other course of action she could realistically take."
    "Well, you saw that coming."
    "No surprise at all," Gabriel concurred.
    "When is her husband due in London?"
    "Tomorrow," he replied with no small measure of relief.
    "Excellent timing."
    "Si."
    As his father contemplated his glass, Gabriel surreptitiously spied on him. Presumably he was mentally scrolling through the list of reasons he was mollified that Gabriel's most recent intrigue had been ended so painlessly, but blessedly, John would keep his thoughts to himself. Considering John's amorous past, and his diverse romantic foibles, he was hardly in any position to lecture Gabriel, and they both knew it
    Besides, their disagreement over Gabriel's earning of their living had been settled long ago. John had no penchant for work, and even if he'd possessed a recognizable calling, he'd never lower himself to engage in commerce. Amazingly, he'd stooped to acting as Gabriel's secretary, but he didn't view his post as a job; he saw himself as supporting an artist, which he considered a valid hobby for a man oft his status.
    He was an elegant, courtly soul who relished the finer things in life, but who had no notion of how one located the funds to pay for them. John had been in his twenties when he'd been disinherited, and he'd gotten by on his looks and charm, borrowing from friends, or freeloading off paramours, who couldn't bear to refuse him any request.
    As a youngster, Gabriel had deduced that John would never be capable of providing them with any stability—-he didn't have the slightest idea how to go about it other than the acceptable gentlemanly pursuits of turning cards or tossing dice—so they would never have any money but what Gabriel generated. Gabriel loved his flamboyant, extravagant father and was willing to employ any method necessary to support him.
    After years of honing his talents, he excelled at painting and at seduction, and he used his combined abilities for financial gain—much to John's unceasing chagrin.
    His expertise as an artist helped him to initially entice his female clients into an innocuous business relationship, and their patronage supplied the meager remuneration be procured through portraiture. But it was what transpired after the painting sessions commenced that brought in the true bulk of his income. He painted women who were lonely, who were searching for love and respect, and they just happened to be the sort who were generous not only with their affection but also with the contents of their pocketbooks.
    For Gabriel, seducement was a game that offered substantial prospects for fiscal enrichment, as well as copious interludes of passionate trysting.
    John could scarcely condemn Gabriel for