(London's Greatest Lovers, #2) Pleasures of a Notorious Gentleman by Lorraine Heath.pdf
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Pleasures of a Notorious Gentleman
Lorraine Heath
Dedication
For Patti, Lynn, Pattie, Kathee, Carol, Connie, Linda, Nancy A., Nancy D., and Merrilee
To sleepless slumber parties; walks after midnight with no fears; cruising the quiet streets of Angleton;
going dateless to high school dances; pep squad; long afternoons at the beach; football games in the rain;
Girls State basketball tournament our senior year; talking on the phone at all hours
for
hours; powder puff
football; Bobby Sherman; the Monkees; sharing the thrill of first kisses, first crushes, and first loves; the
heartache of breakups; the wonder of truly falling in love; and all our dreams of what would be . . .
To the way we were.
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
About the Author
Romances by Lorraine Heath
Copyright
About the Publisher
Prologue
April 1854
S
tephen Lyons loved women. Tall, short, plump, slender. Young and not so young. He loved them all.
He loved most whichever woman was presently keeping him company.
He teasingly referred to her as Fancy, because she was a fancy bit of work. The illegitimate daughter of
a duke, she intended to follow in her mother’s footsteps and seek out a protector. While she was well
aware he would not accommodate her in that regard, she knew his notorious reputation well enough to be
assured he would provide her with an education in pleasure that would see her in good stead. The
numerous weeks of secret trysts had not been in vain. She now possessed talented hands and a wicked
mouth that had kept him pleasantly occupied until dawn.
“I’m going to miss you so frightfully much,” she said, fanning her ebony hair out over the pillow,
stretching languorously across the rumpled bed in a spartan room of the tavern where she’d joined him the
evening before.
“You’ll be warming another gent’s bed before nightfall,” he said distractedly, standing at the window,
buttoning his scarlet jacket.
He thought it should have bothered him that her silence acknowledged the truth: They meant little more
to each other than an evening’s delightful entertainment. He never promised a woman more than he could
deliver, never took one to his bed without her clear understanding that she would never have him beyond
the sheets.
He was grateful Fancy wasn’t making a fuss, that she was already acknowledging he would no longer
be in her life. Change was on the wind and he welcomed its arrival.
Exhilaration thrummed through his veins at the prospect of the escapades awaiting him once he
departed this room. From his vantage point two flights up, he could see the crowds lining the street, could
hear their raised voices as they sang “The Girl I Left Behind Me” while the regimental band pounded out
the tune. With an excitement vibrating on the air as the sun peered over the horizon, the soldiers marched
through in an undisciplined style that would be overlooked by their superiors. Who could blame them for
their heady anticipation as they made their way to the railway station and the first leg of a journey that
would deliver them to the Crimea? Adventure awaited. Honor. And Russian women. Stephen could delay
no longer. It was long past time he joined them.
He crossed over to the bed and planted a lingering kiss on Fancy’s luscious mouth: plump lips that
excelled at bringing a man unbridled pleasure. When he drew back, he gave her a devilish grin. “Thanks,
darling, for the lovely farewell.”
“Take care of yourself. When you return—”
He touched her lips, silencing a promise that neither of them would be destined to keep. “Your
allegiance will be to your protector. With my leaving, our time together is past. But I shall never forget
you, Fancy, or the jolly good fun we had.”
“I’ve no doubt you say that to all the ladies.”
He didn’t deny her accusation. It was the most precious gift he gave each of his paramours: the belief
that she was the one he would reminisce about when the devil came to collect him for his sins.
Reaching up, she flattened her hand against his chest. “In my dreams you will continue to do wicked
things to me.”
He gave her his most dashing grin. “In mine as well.”
Then he kissed her again for good measure, before rushing out the door, down the stairs, and into the
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