Read Intimate Deception for Free Online Page A

So when he needed a release from this human side of his nature, there was only one place he felt comfortable going. One place he knew he could satisfy his physical needs without adding more emotional scars to his already riddled heart—Madam Genevieve’s.
    Madam Genevieve catered to only the most selective clientele, and her girls were, without exception, from a higher class than any of the other London bordellos. Some of them were actually less fortunate members of the
ton
, he was sure. No matter what their reasons for being here, and he assumed there were many, the girls who gave their bodies for a man’s pleasure were here because they chose to be. They were eager and willing to satisfy a man’s every desire, yet knowledgeable concerning every method available of preventing a pregnancy. And that was his primary concern, his cardinal rule.
    After the death of his second wife, he’d vowed never to plant his seed inside a woman again. That he would never let another woman die birthing his babe. To guarantee this, Vincent added another safeguard. He always found his release outside a woman’s body. It was a rule he’d made after Angeline’s death. One he always kept.
    Raeborn’s body hardened in anticipation as his footsteps carried him toward the brothel. Before he reached the entrance, the thick oak door opened.
    “Your Grace.” A man clad in dark maroon livery bowed regally.
    “Good evening, Jenkins. Is your mistress in?”
    “Yes, sir. She’s expecting you. In the Gardenia Room.”
    Vincent smiled. Oh, yes. He needed to be here.
    “Thank you, Jenkins. I can find my way.”
    “As you wish,” the butler said, then walked across the tiled foyer and out of sight.
    Vincent walked past the curved stairway that led to the private rooms upstairs, then past a half dozen sitting rooms—the Daffodil Room, the Hyacinth Room, the Azalea Room, the Daisy Room, the Marigold Room. The Gardenia Room. He knocked softly, then turned the knob.
    As usual, the smell of fresh flowers assaulted his nose. A dozen or more bouquets from recent admirers sat on tabletops and pedestal stands scattered throughout the room. He had to search for her amid the arrangements, but finally found her standing by the window.
    She turned and smiled when he entered the room.
    “Your Grace,” she said, curtsying gracefully.
    Raeborn let his appreciative gaze soak in her beauty. Genevieve was twenty-nine, perhaps thirty, with a small, voluptuous body he couldn’t imagine ever showing the ravages of age. Her gown was exquisite, made of the softest shade of yellow and cut in the latest fashion.
    She wore her hair swept up to the top of her head, then left to cascade downward in a riot of thick curls. She wore very little makeup. Only a spot of rouge on her cheeks anda hint of red to her lips. She was lovely in the most elegant manner. A beauty beyond compare. When she lifted her gaze to greet him, he couldn’t help but smile. “Genevieve,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it. “You look lovely tonight.”
    “Thank you. And you look…” She reached up and placed her palm against his cheek. “Ah. It has been a difficult day. Let me get you a glass of brandy.”
    Vincent smiled. “I think tonight I’d rather stay with whiskey. It might not be wise to switch at this late hour.”
    Genevieve raised her eyebrows and lifted the stopper on a crystal decanter of amber liquid. She poured each of them a drink. “You are late. I was afraid—” She cast a glance over her left shoulder and smiled. “The
girls
were afraid you would not come.”
    Vincent sat on the plush floral settee and rested one ankle atop the opposite knee. He always felt so at ease here. So comfortable.
    She handed him a glass over his shoulder. When he took it, she rested her fingers on his shoulders and massaged his tense muscles.
    “Do you remember the first time we met, Your Grace?”
    “Of course.”
    Vincent took a swallow of Genevieve’s excellent liquor and