Never Gamble Your Heart (The Secret Society of Governess Spies #2)

Chapter 13

J asper said his goodbyes to the last guests at 5:00 a.m. Cecelia was still awake, although she was drooping like a wilted flower. Her hair was in disarray, her gown was splattered with punch, and she couldn’t string three words together without yawning. Jasper was accustomed to keeping late hours and would only require the morning to recover. Cecelia, he suspected, would sleep most of the day.

“When you awaken,” Jasper warned, “we are having a talk.”

Cecelia smiled sleepily at the bottom of the steps. “Was it not thrilling, Uncle? You spoke with so many beautiful, unmarried women. I could not have dreamed of a more successful soirée.”

Warning bells jangled softly in the back of Jasper’s mind. Why should Cecelia mention that so many of the women were unmarried?

He was about to ask that very question when she called out, “Good night!” and raced up the stairs with a burst of energy. Jasper stared after her. That made two women now who’d run from him rather than discuss Cecelia’s motives for the lavish party.

Jasper scrubbed a hand over his face and loosened his cravat, his thoughts returning yet again to the kiss with Frankie. She’d kissed him, and he’d responded in a way that defied good sense. Yes, she was beautiful in an unorthodox, messy way that was mostly adorable and at times shockingly lusty. Any man would have kissed her back—except Jasper was not any man. He was her employer and he had a strict rule about fraternizing with his staff. He had always thought men who consorted with their servants were abusing their power, and he wanted no part of that. There were enough willing women in the world; he did not need to make some poor housemaid fear losing her job if she said no to him. He also had no interest in mixing his personal life with his professional life. When he had an affair with a woman, he took her to a separate house he kept for that purpose.

He had rules, and his reasons for them were good; and yet when Frankie had kissed him, he could not recall a single one of them. He hadn’t meant to kiss her so thoroughly, but he had become so lost in her, so consumed by her, that all he’d been able to think about was tasting more . And when she had responded with pure enthusiasm, it had nearly sent him up in flames. He’d lost all awareness of reason, time, and place. He could only smell the roses on her skin, taste the punch on her lips, feel the straining of her body in his arms, and he’d known he would do anything and give anything to experience more of the same pleasure with her.

He supposed part of the reason he was so attracted to her was that she was uniquely complex. She worked for a governess’s salary, and yet he suspected she was an utterly brilliant mathematician. Her oversized spectacles hid eyes that were so blue one could drown in them. Her high-necked, long-sleeved gowns were an insult to anyone who had eyes, but now he knew her secret: hidden beneath the drab gowns was a sweetly curved body that had clung to his with open, honest desire. That was the thing that had nearly undone him. Frankie was unapologetically candid, and for a man who’d lived with lies and scams and cheats as long as he had, she was as refreshing as a cool drink on a hot summer day.

It had been a long time since Jasper had had an affair—much longer than he led others to believe. He hadn’t abstained because he was an angel but because he’d become bored with the entire pointless dance of courting a mistress only to find her as tiresome as the last. In the past, his affairs had always been a mutually beneficial and temporary arrangement with a widow. Jasper had made it clear to all his previous lovers that he was not the matrimonial type. He owned the ton ’s most illustrious gaming hell and he dealt with the seedier side of life at night, and now he had Cecelia during the day. None of those things lent themselves to a happily married life. He had no interest in taking vows with a woman, and as his position in life did not require it, there was no reason for him to tie himself to someone who would only resent his absences each night.

All these reasons were why the kiss could not be repeated under any circumstances. Frankie was still his employee, and when her replacement arrived and she was no longer his governess, she would still be untouchable. She was genteelly born, and although both she and society would consider her a spinster, Jasper knew she was the type of person destined for marriage rather than an affair with a gambler who’d done such horrible things that even his own brother had not found it in his heart to love him.

Then there was the not-so-small matter of her attempted break-in. He knew she had started the kiss with the intention of distracting him, perhaps expecting him to react with shock, and he had been surprised, except not over the impropriety of the kiss, but by how her touch had felt like flint setting fire to all his extremities. When it came to the combustibility between them, he thought both of them had been caught off guard.

It had been obvious she was new to kissing, her touch sweet and inexperienced, so it was not as if she were a seasoned courtesan spy sent by a rival hell. So what was she doing in his house? Who was she? Why did she want into his study so badly?

Despite all of his cool rationalizing, Jasper’s blood still simmered when he thought of her mouth on his. It was clear he was going to have to keep a considerable distance from his governess while he worked on discovering why she was really in his house.

Later today he would write to Perdita’s again and demand a replacement. The sooner Frankie Turner was out of his life, the better.