Ruthless head of his family, leader of London’s wickedest gaming hell The Sinner’s Palace, rogue, deliriously wonderful kisser, and now one more to add to the frustrating list…
Father.
Jasper Sutton was a father.
He had twin daughters, Miss Anne and Miss Elizabeth, who shared his coal-dark hair and hazel eyes and the divot in his chin. They were adorable, far too forthright, and the girlish images of their father. She had taken one look at them and longed to bundle them up and take them home with her. A foolish, ridiculous urge, that. Octavia was a dedicated spinster. She had no home of her own, nor any funds. She loved children. But she preferred her freedom—that which seemed to remain forever beyond her clawing grasp—more.
“Mr. Sutton says you’re to go, my lady, and you’ll be going before ‘e returns, or it ain’t going to go well for neither of us.”
The low, brusque voice sliced through her wildly flitting thoughts.
On a sigh, she flicked her glance back to Hugh, whose surname she still had yet to learn, despite the number of times he had been tasked with escorting her home. Yes, Jasper Sutton was fond of ordering her to leave his family’s gaming hell.
And Octavia? Well, she was fond of ignoring him until she had no other choice save fleeing. Much as she had on the last occasion she had sought his aid here. When he had kissed her…
Nay!
Do not think of that now.
You must not.
She would only lose her determination if she did.
Casting his guard a pointed frown, she prodded him, “Mister…”
“You,” he said.
Actually, what he had said was Hugh, sans the H. Which sounded just like you.
She blinked. “Mr. Hugh—”
“Ain’t no mister, milady. ‘ugh is all.”
Blasted man. Every bit as stubborn as his master. Every bit as devoid of mirth.
But her quarrel with Hugh hardly mattered when the door to Sutton’s office flew open and the man himself stalked over the threshold.
His hazel glare swept over her as he stopped, his unforgiving countenance grim and harsh and lethally handsome all at once. “My lady. I told you to be gone.”
She shrugged, feeling bold.
And desperate.
“And I decided not to be.”
“Not to be what?” he drawled. “Sane?”
“How ungracious of you,” she clipped in return. “Not to be gone. I require an audience with you, Mr. Sutton.”
“Forgive me, sir,” Hugh interjected, sounding remarkably apologetic for a man of his brutish nature. “I know you said she ‘ad to go, but milady wouldn’t leave.”
Octavia wondered, not for the first time, just what it was that Jasper Sutton used to keep his men so very loyal. Money? Force? Threats? Everything all at once? With a man of Sutton’s reputation, anything was possible.
Sutton’s eyes narrowed to piercing slits. Without casting a glance in his manservant’s direction, he issued a stinging dismissal. “Out, Hugh.”
“But sir—”
“Go,” Sutton interrupted. “I will find you when I need you.”