chips in front of him.
‘He’s a second son and he’s losing the money he earns from captured ships, not his father’s wealth, otherwise Lord Fenton would be in here putting a stop to it at once.’ Jasper motioned for her to sit on the leather sofa behind her. He took a box of fine sweets off the corner of his desk and held them out to her. ‘I also allow him to play here because he offers the other patrons information about oversees interests and ports they can’t obtain elsewhere.’
‘A wise decision.’ She selected one round confection dusted with sugar, pausing to look up at him through her thick lashes. ‘If this is the source of your income, then why did you want a building in the heart of the Fleet? It’d be hard for you to hide your activities there.’
She bit into the treat, as perceptive and tempting as ever. He tossed the box on his desk, then sat on the leather chair across from hers. ‘Many men come here for more than cards; they want to discuss contracts, stocks and markets in a space more conducive to sensitive deals than a coffee house. It’s the edge my establishment offers, the one I wish to cultivate and turn into a respectable business. The building would’ve been the perfect place for it.’
‘You could have the Fleet Street building if you agree to my terms.’ Her tongue slid over her bottom lip to lick off a bit of confectioner’s sugar clinging there. The gesture almost made Jasper slide across the gap and take care of the sweetness for her. Instead, he threw his hands up over the back of the leather’s curving edge. Not only should she not be here, but he shouldn’t be reacting to her like this. It wasn’t right and still he couldn’t dampen the heat rising inside him.
‘You know I can’t.’ It was time to think with his mind and not parts lower down. ‘I’m not an honest merchant like Milton or my sisters’ husbands.’
‘Good, I’m glad.’
‘Don’t be.’ He’d been naive about the dangers and temptations which could rob a man of his worth. He was too familiar with them now and didn’t want to visit them on her. ‘It isn’t easy being up all night, sleeping in the day, and lying to everyone about everything.’
She leaned forward with the same determination she’d used to approach him this afternoon. ‘Then let me help you become respectable again. We can establish the club together, secure more patrons and devise many means of making money off them, either through wine and cigars or expensive baubles for their wives sold at inflated prices.’
Jasper rubbed his eyes with his fingers. ‘Jane, be sensible.’
‘I am being sensible. A busy man must placate his wife and jewellery is an excellent way to do it. By selling ready-made pieces at the club we can save merchants a trip to the jewellers.’
Jasper peered at her through his fingers. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘Fine stationary for their contracts would also be good and the services of a private solicitor to keep things confidential.’
Jasper rubbed his chin. ‘Property agents might not be a bad idea, either, and we could take a cut of their sales.’
She laid her hands smugly on her knees. ‘See, I can help you.’
He snapped out of his interest. He was supposed to be putting her off him, not being drawn into a potential partnership. ‘No, you can’t.’
‘I can and you’ll see it and change your mind.’
He leaned forward, one elbow on his knee. ‘I promise you, I won’t.’
She matched his position, bringing her face close to his. ‘I promise you, you will.’
They stared at one another in challenge, so close together he could see each curling lash rimming her eyes. The temptation to kiss her again gripped him and he was certain she would allow it, but he held firm against the desire to lean in and claim her lips. He was here to discourage her, not trifle with her. The rattle of dice and conversation from the adjacent room drifted in despite the thick padding he’d paid builders to add to the walls. Her small breaths glided over the back of his hand where it hung between his knees, the need to resist her beginning to lose its urgency. He’d expected her to loathe him, not go along with him as if he’d invited her to a box at Drury Lane Theatre. Maybe allying himself with her wouldn’t be as dangerous as he’d first believed. She could help him and in deeper ways than mere negotiations and sales.
He sat back, putting distance between her and temptation. Revealing his involvement in a gambling hell was one thing, but he wouldn’t entice her into this life the way his uncle had enticed him. ‘I think it’s time to get you home.’
‘But we haven’t resolved anything.’
‘We’ll discuss the rest in the carriage.’ He checked the glass peephole hidden in a knot in the door to make sure the hallway was clear, then tugged it open. ‘We don’t want your brother to discover you missing and make you Sister Mary Saint Jane.’
She wagged one finger at him. ‘Don’t think you’ll put me off so easily.’
She strode past him and into the hallway, her confidence as alluring as her perfume.
* * *
Jane allowed Jasper to lead her out the way they’d come in and to hand her into the waiting carriage. The night chill made her shiver as she settled against the fine leather seats. She could pull the rug up over her knees, but the bracing air kept her on guard to continue her fight. Warmth might lull her into cosiness and make her forget what she needed to do on the ride home, her last real chance to change Jasper’s mind. She’d seen his determination waver when she’d made the suggestion about the jewellery and the solicitor, and again when they’d faced one another. He might outwardly protest, but inside he was weakening.
He settled across from her and with a knock on the roof set the conveyance in motion. They rode in silence as the carriage came around the building and passed the front entrance of the hell where a few vehicles waited for their riders while another pulled up to the front door to let off a new arrival. Then the building faded into the distance and the warehouses gave way to narrow streets and dark, ramshackle buildings. After a street or two, Jasper covered a large yawn with the back of his hand.
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