Your Darkest Dream (Blackwood & Friends #2)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

It was the light rap on the glass of the doors that roused him.

Well, he hadn't really been asleep. It had been a light doze while his body curled around the naked woman pressed to his chest, listening to the gentle cadence of her breaths that mingled with the din of the raucous activities of the occupants of the club downstairs as she slept peacefully tucked against him.

The sound occurred again, followed by the soft voice of his one of the men Nate trusted to manage and run the club in his absence. "Don't mean to disturb, Nate," Spencer Davidson called softly, his voice muted by the doors barred and further covered by the heavy velvet drapes that hung over them to afford the chamber its privacy. "But it is important."

Nate only allowed Jason and Oliver, and more recently Blanche and Nicola, onto the third level of the club, as well as Spencer and a few trusted servants. If Spencer had decided that it was urgent enough to disturb him, then it had to be something to warrant him getting out of bed.

Something, Nate realised with a bleary reluctance, he really didn't want to do. Which was odd- he was invariably very hands on when it came to dealing with proceedings within his club. There would hardly be an evening that would pass where he wouldn't be on the floor overseeing the various activities, ensuring bets were placed smoothly, minimising the fights that broke out due to drunken misunderstandings that were elevated in aggravation due to the liquor.

Now, he was quite happy to allow the people he had been working beside for years to step in and handle matters while the woman he loved rested her exquisitely warm and rounded bottom against his thighs as she slept in his bed.

But this was a new arrangement and if Spencer said it was important, then Nate had to step into his role and ensure the smooth proceedings with which The Den were normally managed. He successfully extracted his arm from under Blanche's cheek but when he moved away from her, she stirred in protest, a sleepy mumble drawing him back to her. Briefly, he placed a kiss to her temple, murmuring how he would return shortly, and then tucked the coverlet snugly around her curled body. He adored the way she slept, tucking her knees as close to her chest as she could with her cheek always resting against the palm of her hand, whether she was asleep on his shoulder or pillow...

Sighing softly, Nate located his trousers and hopped into them on his way to the doors. He drew aside the drapes and cracked it open only slightly.

Spencer Davidson was one of the few individuals Nate trusted wholeheartedly. He was a few years younger than him, tall and lanky, with roughhewn edges that were off-putting if one couldn't look past the unkempt hair and beard. Nate knew the man liked to present himself this way as a means to provoke the impression that he was a no-nonsense, hard individual, but once a person could see past the black beard and shaggy hair, they would find astutely kind blue eyes and soft features. Spencer had shown early on that he had a knack for managing people, organisation, and particularly numbers. When it came to The Den's fastidiously kept accounts, there was only one other person Nate would allow to oversee the ledgers and that was Spence.

"What time is it?" Nate asked first, mostly because the lateness of the hour would dictate the level of seriousness of the problem. The longer and deeper a man was into his cups would ascertain whether Nate needed to simply toss him out by the seat of his pants or ready a room on the second floor for him to recover... with a few burly men to overwatch him.

"Two hours before dawn," Spence said quietly, his eyes raking over Nate's level of undress. The other man had also been made privy to the fact that Lady Blanche Blackwood was Nate's fiancée and would be staying at The Den during the evenings. He was getting paid handsomely for his discretion and assistance at manoeuvring Blanche's comings and goings with little to no notice. It had obviously occurred to him how wholly inappropriate it was to allow Blanche to reside with him at the club, not only presently but in the future as his wife. Should she desire it, he would happily acquire lodgings for them to reside elsewhere- a comfortable townhouse perhaps. But presently, he simply did not have the funds and as soon as he had worked up the means, if she should desire it, then he would acquire it. For now, however, Blanche appeared more than titillated by his residence... and it pleased him immensely.