BD
Stephen was flabbergasted. A woman had got out of his bed before he had the chance to slip away. He wasn’t going to quibble over the fact that the bed was actually hers. It was more that it had never happened to him before. Women didn’t leave first—the man always did.
It’s just not the done thing.
If Bridget intended to start conducting discrete liaisons, she was going to have to learn the rules. There was a set accord of acceptable behavior in these situations. Leaving a man sleeping in your bed was not one of them.
A chap might get to thinking he had been used purely for his sexual prowess.
“And then tossed aside,” he muttered.
It simply wouldn’t do. And the next time he spoke to Bridget he would set her straight.
Last night had not ended in accordance with theton’sunwritten book of bed etiquette. As a gentleman, it was up to him to ensure that the error was corrected. If he let it stand, then Bridget might get hold of the foolish notion that she could be the one in charge when it came toaffaires secretes.
“I should insist on a repeat of the evening. That’s what I should do.”
He was an avowed rake, he owed it to Bridget to instruct her in the correct manner of how discreet sexual liaisons were conducted.
She will thank me for my selfless offer of private tuition.
With Bridget gone, there was no point in him lingering in bed. He was most certainly not going to ring for tea and toast, nor go and sit by himself in the dining room whileherservants waited on him. A man had his pride.
Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Stephen rose. He collected his scattered clothes and quickly dressed.
One of the few good points about never having employed a valet was that he was well-equipped to deal with the morning after a sexual encounter. By the time he left Bridget’s house a mere twenty minutes later, Stephen looked the very picture of a well put together London gentleman.
On the surface, there was not a hair out of place. Inside, however, he was quietly steaming. He had years of no-strings-attached sexual liaisons under his belt. Love and leave them, was his unofficial motto.
Bridget Dyson had done exactly the same thing that he had done to countless numbers of women. A night of passion followed by a hasty departure. Just because the tables had been turned, it shouldn’t bother him.
But it did.
She got up and left. Not even a good-morning kiss. And who leaves a note?
A woman remained in bed, pretended to be asleep, and let a gentleman slip quietly from her house. It saved both parties from stilted, awkward morning conversations.
His mind was made up. To ensure he did his duty as a gentleman, he would spend another night savoring the delights of Bridget’s naked body while bringing her to sexual release. Then in the morning he would be the one to leave.
And if she still didn’t grasp the rules, and arose before him, he would return the next night. In fact, he was more than willing to continue to offer himself until she had been thoroughly educated.
Stephen licked his lips. “I hope she is a slow learner.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The rest of the day Stephen spent impatiently waiting to hear from Bridget. By late afternoon, he couldn’t endure it any longer. His pride simply wouldn’t stand for it. Out the front of the RR Coaching Company offices, he hailed a hack.
“Berkley Square and hurry,” he ordered, climbing on board.
The cool reception he received from Bridget when he was ushered into her drawing room a short while later, did nothing to help soothe his wounded ego. If the way she smiled sweetly at him was any indication, there had been an obvious shift in the power base of their relationship, and Bridget damn well knew it.
“Hello, Stephen, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Weren’t you going to collect Toby from Harry and Alice’s house today?”
He took in a deep, calming breath. “Alice has taken young Toby to visit with her parents. They are not expected home until late this evening,” he replied.
It was hard enough dealing privately with the guilt he felt over not spending enough time with his brother—explaining it to Bridget only made matters worse.
As cool as ice, she gently clasped her hands together. “That sounds delightful. Well then, you must be here to bring me your final bill. Case successfully closed and another client well satisfied.” Her voice was heavy with innuendo.
