Bronwyn Scott - Reckless Rakes - Hayden Islington

The cynic in him, who understood sex was a game like any other, wondered if she hadn’t planned it that way? Logan had only an hour to track her down and confirm the meeting. Yet she was already here; her outerwear, a warm-looking fur-trimmed cloak of brown velvet, already removed and laying on a chair with her gloves on the small table beside it. She’d wasted no time making herself at home in the parlor. Surely a woman of her looks was not unaware of them or of how she might best engineer a scene to provoke a certain male response?

Hayden’s gaze lit on her face and all thoughts stopped right there. The sharp green eyes that met his suggested she knew exactly what was going through his head and she did not approve. He also had the distinct feeling Miss This Afternoon would not swoon over blown kisses, which only fueled an entirely male stab of desire all the more. What man didn’t want what he couldn’t have? But that wasn’t quite true was it? He was Hayden Islington, ice racer extraordinaire, lover nonpareil. He could have her. He merely had to apply himself.

Hayden gave her a confident grin. She might set herself up to be something of a challenge, but she was here all the same. Challenge or not, the conclusion was foregone, and what a lovely conclusion it would be to peel that carriage ensemble from her luscious form, to caress those breasts, to trace the curve of her hip, to test in practice with his body, what his mind already knew in theory; she would be delicious in bed. Hayden looked about the parlor taking in the possibilities; Or on a table, up against a door, with her back flat on the floor. This was starting to sound like a bad rhyme from the schoolroom, the kind tutors used to drill prepositions into their pupils’ heads. Still, if his tutor had taught grammar that way, he might have remembered it better.

“Hayden, this is Miss Jenna Priess.” Logan was making introductions. Hayden dragged his thoughts away from erotic school lessons designed to keep adolescent boys’ interest. He would have been one hell of a schoolmaster. But that wasn’t the point just now. He needed to pay attention. It wouldn’t do to forget her name so soon after hearing it.

Hayden bent over her hand, a very well-kept hand with perfect rounded nails, he noted; his eyes careful never to leave hers while his lips made contact with her knuckles. “Miss Priess, Jenna , how do you do?”

“I’m quite well.” Her tone was as formal as her eyes were sharp. Just now, those sharp eyes flicked over the length of his body ever so subtly he might have imagined it. But then, he was Hayden Islington. He knew when a woman was looking him over. There was no doubt Miss Priess had definitely just perused his form. And, he might add, she had done so in a manner that spoke of some experience and skill in the art of the discreet scan.

She was taking his measure, quite literally. It had been awhile since a woman had bothered. Most of them had already decided he’d pass muster before they even met. Reputations were handy things that way. She pulled her hand away with the slightest of tugs and he let her. She could feign indifference all she wanted with that haughty tone of hers but he’d caught her at her wicked little game and he knew better. “Is everything to your liking?”

Her fabulous eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her posture stiffened at the reprimand or perhaps at the insinuation behind it. To her credit, her gaze never wavered in embarrassment or in acknowledgement of having been found out. “I’ve come to offer you a proposal.”

Hayden flashed her a grin. “Is that so?” He let his eyes roam her form, deliberately copying her actions. This was becoming more interesting by the moment. “Carry on then, Miss Priess. I find I’m quite in the mood for being propositioned.”

The lovely Miss Priess did blush at that but her tone remained firm. “A business proposition.” Her blue eyes flicked briefly in Logan’s direction, making a discreet request for privacy. He would take that as a good sign and if she wanted to refer to her proposition as ‘business’, that was fine with him too. The outcome would be the same and that was all that mattered in the end.

Ever the master of nuance, Logan took the hint, making excuses about returning to the gentlemen next door. “Refreshments are available, if you desire anything.” Logan nodded towards the side table set against the wall. It was his way of indicating Hayden was free to pursue whatever course of action he wanted. There would be no interruptions from the inn staff delivering food.

“Ah, mulled wine. Shall I pour you a mug?” Hayden offered to ease the transition of Logan’s departure. It was just the two of them now. Perhaps a little courtesy would thaw her frosty tone, the wine wouldn’t hurt either. Heaven forbid she actually be here to discuss real business. She had the wrong man for that. That was Logan’s specialty.

“No, thank you. This won’t take long.”

Hayden raised an eyebrow and helped himself to the wine. “I’m in no hurry. I have all afternoon.” Clearly, she didn’t know him very well. He liked speed, but not in bed where it was all about slow and steady winning the race. “Please, have a seat, Jenna.” He took a chair near the fire and gestured for her to do the same. Lord, she was a beauty. He watched her arrange her skirts. There were long legs beneath them, he’d wager. He was a breast man himself, but long legs never hurt.

Hayden settled back in the chair, stretching his legs out until his boots rested on the fender of the fire place. It was time to get comfortable. “What is it that you’ve come to, ah, ‘discuss’? The race? Did you see it? There was quite the situation out there on the turn. That can be dangerous when a horse goes down, it puts all the riders in jeopardy.”

Her features settled into a frown of impatient tolerance. “No, Mr. Islington, I’m not here to talk over the race. I’ve come to discuss something else entirely.” “Well, that’s alright by me. We don’t have to discuss anything at all, if you’d prefer not to.” Maybe what she meant was that she was eager to get down to business and not waste time on small talk. Hayden yanked on his cravat and pulled it free. Now they were getting somewhere. “Perhaps you might give me a hand with my boots?” He could already imagine that derriere of hers bent in his direction as she tugged at his boots.

Unfortunately, Miss Jenna Priess didn’t share his enthusiasm for the activity. “Mr. Islington, let me be blunt. I am not one of your swooning ladies who are dying to get into bed with you. I’m not even here about racing. I’m here because you were once an investigator and I have need of one.”

Hayden froze. The past had finally reared its ugly head, here in this remote industrial town. He’d not been expecting it, not here, not now, not from this woman he didn’t know. She might as well have said she needed an escort to the moon. Hayden took a swallow of wine to hide his surprise, to marshal his thoughts.

“I’m an ice racer now, Miss Priess.” His investigation days were long behind him. His celebrity on ice had long since eclipsed any public recollection of what he used to be and for the better, if you asked him. That she even knew he’d been an investigator was nearly as big of a surprise as the initial request. It provoked a host of questions, not the least being how did she know? Perhaps it had been mentioned in passing in an article promoting the race. He’d have to tell Logan to watch the releases more carefully. The other question was how to play this? He had two choices, give in to the curiosity and shock of her request and ask his questions or brush it off with flirtation and innuendo. Perhaps if he flirted hard enough, she would forego her intentions and forget all about wanting an investigator.