“No complaints at all, Leo. I enjoyed myself immensely.” There wasn’t any reason to lie. Her legs shook as she approached the pile of her clothing. She twisted her hair, trying to put the curls into some semblance of decency with what few pins she could find.
I’m sure I look like a prostitute.
Leo stood and came to her aid, the awareness of his naked body so close to hers causing her skin to prickle. He pushed aside her fumbling efforts, helping her dress efficiently without so much as a sound, his touch as impersonal as any maid’s.
“You’re very good with women’s clothing.”
“I’ve had loads of practice.”
Georgina stiffened at his tone, wanting out of this room before she lost what little control and dignity she still had. She moved away from him, taking her cloak from the nearby chair, struggling to put it on. She was suddenly desperate to leave.
He took the cloak from her and gently laid it over her shoulders. “If there is a problem later, you will —”
“Not bother you at all,” she shot back before he could finish. “I understood your instruction perfectly well. I have taken it to heart.”
He tried to kiss her, and Georgina stepped away, heading for the door.
“I want you to stay,” he said again, a look of determination on his handsome features.
Leo was used to being obeyed.
Unfortunately, Georgina was inclined toward disobedience.
She paused at the door and looked back at him, standing before the fire, every line of his naked, powerful body taut with anger. It seemed hecouldlose control. All it had taken was her.
“You’re very entitled for a bastard, Mr. Murphy.”
His fingers clenched at his sides. “Leo.”
“I don’t think so.” Her fingers shook and she hid them in the fabric of her cloak. “My marker has been fulfilled.”
“Georgie—”
She fled out the door, nearly tripping over her skirts in her haste to be away, and pulled the knob, slamming the heavy wood behind her. Taking a breath, Georgina looked down at her slippers, trying to decide how she could leave Elysium without being seen, and ran right into a wall.
Smith.
Elysium’s massive doorman was standing guard outside Leo’s office. Barely older than Georgina, Smith was built like a small mountain, with massive arms and a lilt in his voice she’d never been able to place, though to her ears, everyone in London had an accent.
“My lady. Apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He dipped his chin. “I’m to take you out the back, thru the gardens to your carriage. Discreetly. Mr. Murphy’s instructions.”
Georgina took in the overly large doorman, the broad shoulders and heavily muscled forearms. As an escort through Elysium, Smith was probably a good one for a woman who was bundled up in her cloak, hair falling from the hasty bun at the back of her neck. Smith probably escorted Leo’s paramours from the club often. The thought made her stomach curdle. “Thank you.”
She glanced back at the closed door, feeling Leo behind it. The inclination to return to him was very strong, almost overriding her common sense. But she turned back to Smith, commanding herself to move forward.
Smith led her down the carpeted hall, stopping abruptly and pushing softly with the palm of his hand against a stretch of wall. A door, cleverly hidden like the one in Leo’s office, swung open enough for Smith to step through. Picking up a lamp just inside, Smith paused to light the wick and gestured for Georgina to follow him.
She took a cautious step forward. Elysium, Welles had once told her, was riddled with secret staircases, hallways, and hidden rooms. Under different circumstances, Georgina would have adored exploring.
“Watch your step, my lady.”
She followed closely behind Smith, wondering if there were spiders or other vermin trapped in these walls, but she could see nothing except the circle of light around the hulking form ahead of her. Within moments, they emerged into a courtyard. Dawn was fast approaching, the misty gray of the horizon giving way to pale pink. She needed to get home. Masterson probably hadn’t even noticed her absence, but Georgina was already a pariah to her neighbors, several of whom she suspected shared her whereabouts with Masterson’s nephew. Harold always seemed to know when she was home or had gone out. Georgina had taken a hack to Elysium for that very reason—to remain unnoticed.
Oily unease settled in her stomach as she thought of Harold.
A carriage sat idling, not Georgina’s own but a sleeker conveyance.
“Mr. Murphy’s driver will take you home, my lady.”
