The Marriage Bargain Read Online Free Page A

She’ll be gone soon, anyway.”

    Beckett felt his eyes grow heavy as he stared at Alfred. “I wonder who she is, really….”
    “You always did love a good mystery, old man.” Alfred started for the door. “I’m going downstairs and have myself another drink. Then I am going to sleep in my usual spot: The Blue Room.”
    “You’re leaving me to do this alone?” Beckett grinned at Alfred, then yawned.
    Alfred chuckled, saying over his shoulder, “You know, I just thought of something—if you ever call her ‘my pet,’ it won’t be the least bit of a lie. Enjoy bathing her!”
    The door closed and Beckett turned his attention to the unconscious girl lying across his bed. His arms and legs felt like lead, and his eyes watered from yawning. Normally he might have been more excited at the prospect of washing a beautiful woman, but he was so tired, he just wanted to go to sleep.
    Monty scooted himself closer to the bed and put his chin on it, his big, black nose sniffing energetically at the myriad smells covering the unconscious girl. His tongue snaked out and licked her hand.
    “Monty, no!” Beckett whispered, frowning. “I need you to act as chaperon.” The dog moved back, but continued to look at the girl as if she were the sweetest-smelling thing he’d ever encountered.
    Beckett tapped his chin and surveyed the situation. Perhaps he could just get her out of the damp nightdress and dry her off—instead of giving her a more thorough wash. But beautiful or not, the fact remained that she smelled like the contents of a sewer. He moved closer, and a quick appraisal showed that most of the filth was on her dress.
    Beckett lifted up her arm and brought his nose near. Her skin was soft to the touch and her dainty hands and fingers were free of calluses. That lent credence to his earlier assumption. She wasn’t a common street-walker, of that he was certain.
    Beckett reached down to remove the wet clothes from her clammy body. His gaze fell on the taut nipples straining against the thin fabric. Even in the dim light, he could see their shadow.
    Gadzooks—he felt like a peeping Tom in his own bloody bedchamber!
    Despite the vision before him, his eyelids began to droop as he reached for the lacy collar of her nightdress. Still, he told himself, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d undressed a woman with his eyes closed—although on most occasions he’d been kissing her at the same time.
    He felt his way to the buttons down the front of her dress. There were so many of them, and the damn things were as tiny as pebbles. They were probably made this way to discourage young women from hasty trysts with lovers. And they were cleverly the size of a woman’s fingers, not a man’s. This was illogical indeed, he thought groggily, considering it was usually a man’s hands that unfastened the tiny buttons—at least here in London. In the country, perhaps it was different….
    Finally he was through them all, and he eased the garment from her shoulders. His hands lingered there, and his eyes fluttered open as his forearm brushed against what lay below those creamy shoulders. The softness whispered across his skin like rose petals in the wind.
    He was suddenly quite awake.

    Beckett bit his lip as he tried not to feast his eyes on her now naked breasts, but he was drawn to them like bees to honey. His hands itched to touch their snow-white delicacy, and his lips ached to kiss the crowns of softest pink.
    He shook his head, trying to keep his thoughts in order, and succeeded in peeling the dress off her warm, wet torso and down around her legs.
    Now the girl was completely, beautifully naked, lying vulnerable on the bed before him. Almost painfully, Beckett sensed her nakedness in every inch of his body. It called to him like a siren of the sea.
    Steadying his breath, he turned and dampened a soft cloth in the basin. He gently dabbed her face with the cloth, careful to keep the pressure light.
    He eased the cloth down