It was abundantly clear that William had successfully accomplished what he intended when he invited Victoria to his home. They would dine alone in this room.
“We really don’t have to sit in here . . .,” Victoria said, awash with the intimacy of the room.
William went to a chair and held it out for her.
“Please sit down, Victoria. This is where I always eat, this is my salon.” A silent demand framed his gentle request.
She resisted making a move toward the seat he held out so temptingly for her.
“You have your own table? In your own room?” she asked, incredulously seeking words that would allow an escape. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”
“Ridiculous? Perhaps. But yes, this is my room and of course, my table. Now please, humor me by sitting down.” His silver eyes twinkled into hers.
To avoid being extremely impolite, Victoria reluctantly went to the chair he held out and sat down, her back ramrod straight with resistance.
“I have never had my dining room referred to as ridiculous, I am truly wounded.” He chuckled as he contemplated her stiff posture. “There is a very good reason why I have my own eating salon in this hotel.” He paused, leaning down to her ear and lowering his voice to a sensuous husky whisper and said, “I own this hotel.”
“Oh,” Victoria replied, her voice faint with astonishment.
William gave her a devastatingly charming smile as he stepped away from her and pulled his own chair out.
Victoria was incredulous. His personal eating salon and his own hotel? Now that staggered the mind. It was pathetically obvious to her that she didn’t really belong here.
She had to admit, however, it was flattering to have so much attention reserved just for her. And if she was honest, she felt like she belonged in this dress and in this room even as absurd as the notion was. At this moment, and only at this moment, would she allow herself to belong here — only for tonight, just one magical night, she could pretend.
Seated across from her William examined her in studied silence.
Wine was poured and William picked up his glass and toasted her. Victoria timorously responded in kind.
“To the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure to meet.” His eyes burned into hers, seizing her and pulling breath from her body.
Cheeks flaming, Victoria smiled back and murmured, “thank you” before tipping her own glass and taking a long, fortifying drink.
The waiter arrived promptly to save her from his potent amity.
After they had ordered their food, she -- baked cod and he -- roast duckling, Victoria reluctantly decided to confront him with the store problems even though she preferred to bask in his charm and her surroundings indefinitely.
“Mr. Worthington . . . Will,” she amended,” we really need to talk about the store.”
William paused, his glass mid-air, his eyes probing hers intently.
“What is there to talk about? I understand exactly what you want from me. I think it was clear from your father’s letter.” He took a slow drink from his wine glass while watching her over the rim. “His letter in fact explained everything quite clearly and with a great deal of vigor.”
A hot blush of embarrassment spread across her face.
“I need to know what you are going to do about the situation with the store,” Victoria bravely pushed on even as the alarm bells went off in her head.
“I wonder . . .” he started, then paused, looking at his index finger caressing the stem of his wine glass making subtle patterns over the crystal. Her heart lurched in reaction and a shiver passed through her.
“Has it occurred to you, Victoria, that I might want something from you?” he asked; his voice velvety and his eyes crashed hot back into hers.
The wind left Victoria’s lungs. Had she heard him correctly?
“From me? What could I possibly have that you would want?” She stopped when his eyes burned her with their heat.
Her lips parted and the question fell from her lips in a quivering whisper, “What do you want from me?”
There was an endless, tense pause while he held her prisoner with his magnetic silver gaze.
“I want you,” he answered in a low, husky voice reaching across the table to caress her cheek with a warm succulent touch. Victoria was too profoundly affected by William’s words to react to his licentious contact.
“I want you to be mine,” he whispered, emphasizing his lecherous intent.
Recoiling from him, Victoria struggled to push her chair back.
“I am leaving,” she managed to choke out while she battled the train of her dress under the chair leg. “I can’t believe what you just said to me. Never, ever, have I been so shocked or embarrassed in my life. Even the rowdy, rough men who came to the store and made crude comments have never embarrassed me so much.”
And they had never made her feel like this…all fluttering hot and quivering with need.
“Damnation. Victoria, wait,” William said, catching her arm in gentle restraint. “Don’t run away darling.”
Victoria hesitated under his restraining hand, glaring at him, her rage and humiliation almost suffocating her.
“Obviously I have moved too fast in my courtship, but being with you has made me act in a most uncharacteristically rash fashion,” he soothed.
“Courtship…is that what you call this? I came here to talk to you about the store. You have done everything to divert me, and now, now . . . you have said this. Rash is not the word I would put to your comments. Something like “lewd” would be a better description!” Her chest rose and fell in agitation and furor of a different kind.
She wanted him too.
The shocking thought pummeled her. His words had elicited a foreign but undeniable rush of passion and need that stole her breath away.
Mandy was right! It was a terrible mistake to come here. She should never have written that letter and she should never have left Fort Worth. But it was too late now. Pandora’s box was open wide and her previously undiscovered carnality and desires were pouring out.
“We are talking about the store,” he answered, his brilliant eyes pulling her with his anomalous magic power. “The store … you … me and the future,” he said slowly, his voice dropping lower, holding promise so delicious Victoria near fell from her seat.
“There is no you, me, or the future!” She declared, glaring at him in outrage, even while she drown in salacious images that were overtaking rational thinking.
“Isn’t there?” William coaxed. “Because I believe there has been since the moment we met. Or perhaps even further back than that, the moment you chose to write me that charming letter.” He smiled an incongruent tender smile.
“Your appetizer sir, madam….” The waiter inconveniently arrived. They stared at one another in tense silence while he arranged the platter and excused himself from the uncomfortable hush.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice quivering.
“I know about your father, Victoria.”
The air left Victoria’s lungs and the earth tilted under her feet. His jolting words suspended between them.
He knew. Oh God, he knew!
But how long had he known?
“I knew before you even arrived here,” he answered her mute question.
“Why did you lie to me, Victoria?” He asked quietly searching her astonished expression.
She rapidly blinked away the tears that sprang into her eyes.
“What choice did I have? If you knew my father was gone, I was certain you would take the store away. I have Mandy to think about,” she justified, looking down at the fine crystal and china that adorned the table and starkly contrasted her life at home.
Everything had gone so terribly wrong.
“And yourself, you had to save yourself,” he stated. She met his emphatic gaze again but said nothing.
“Did it ever occur to you just to write me and tell the t
ruth?” he asked gently.
“Of course, that is what I wanted to do, but I am a woman and we both know women aren’t given the chance to do anything, much less run a store without a husband or father.”
“That may be true, but eventually I was bound to find out, wasn’t I?” he asked, raising one eyebrow as if her actions were those of a foolish child.
She glared at him. “Maybe…maybe not. No one seemed very interested in the store in the past, so why would you suddenly take an interest?”
“I am quite certain that it was pure desperation that drove you to write me that ridiculous letter ... I can only assume that you are very desperate, am I right? So, where does that leave us then? I have something you want and you have several things I want,” he persuaded his voice silky.
Flushing, Victoria studied the ornate table again. “You are right. I am distressed…but your suggestions are outrageous. I have nothing you want,” she said firmly, refusing to meet his gaze and wishing she were anywhere else but here having this scandalous conversation.
“Oh but you truly do have what I want very much…I want you, Victoria, very, very much.” His voice stroked her skin like silk. An inappropriate and most unwanted ache pooled in her lower belly.
Dear gracious. Was he truly suggesting such iniquitous activities? Victoria knew what went on between married couples and it had seemed somewhat repulsive to her before.
Before now.
Thinking about doing all those things with William took her breath away.
This was a sin.
Wanting a man … one who said those kinds of things, was a terrible, terrible sin. Yet he made her feel a longing. He made her ache. She should leave right now. But she was incapable of moving.
“You cannot possibly be serious,” she whispered, focusing intently on the white linen napkin crushed in her trembling hands.
Victoria knew she wasn’t a beauty, not like Mandy or one of the many beautiful women he probably knew. What in the world would motivate such a man to say something like that to her… a country mouse?
“Look at me sweetheart.” His request was soft and low.
“No. I can’t.” Utterly mortified, she closed her eyes against her impulse to look at him. “How can I look at someone who would say such things to me?”
“I want to make a deal with you, Victoria.” His uninvited voice penetrated her mind.
Her eyes flew open, clashing fire with his.
“What if I told you I would give you title to the store? What if I told you I would give you enough money to live comfortably without the store?”
Victoria’s mouth dropped open but she was incapable of speech.
“What if I told you I would give you anything you wanted?” He tempted with a deep and thick tone while he reached out and tenderly traced her open jaw with his fingertip. Her mouth snapped shut and she swallowed hard.
“And what precisely do you want in return for all of this? One night?” Her whisper was hoarse and harsh.
“I want you to belong to me in the intimate way that a woman belongs to a man, but not just one night. One night could not possibly be enough.”
The image his words provoked stole into her mind like a potent alcoholic drink and Victoria closed her eyes, trembling.
“No darling, don’t close your eyes,” he softly commanded. “Don’t be afraid or upset Victoria.” He reached out to caress her limp hand. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”
Oh, but you could … and would given half a chance.
“You are a complete stranger.” Her voice was hushed with shame and her eyes were still closed against his compelling, silver gaze. She shouldn’t even be considering his words, yet she was.
“I won’t be a stranger.”
Heart pounding, she opened her eyes slowly.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “The very idea is beyond scandalous.”
But I want to.
Yesterday, she would have slapped anyone who would ever dare to suggest such a thing. Today, she was actually contemplating his suggestion.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because it is wrong! How could you, Mr. Polite Society even ask such a thing?”
“I don’t think you understand at all how polite society works Victoria. There is nothing damning in such an arrangement.”
“Maybe in your world that is true.”
“You told me you were never going to marry, Victoria, you said you wanted to be free of men. I am giving you a chance to live exactly as you wish, but still enjoy a little of life’s bounty.” He leaned forward and captured her hand. She struggled to pull away from him.
“I do not wish what you are proposing and you know that is not what was in my mind. You are extremely arrogant to imagine that being intimate with you is experiencing life’s bounty!”
“What I am proposing will benefit both of us, I promise, and you will have the store.”
“Your price is too high, your suggestion absurd and reprehensible” she proclaimed, snatching her hand back and trying to quell her body’s sinful reaction to his words and compelling persuasion.
“You don’t have to decide tonight,” he said quietly. “I want you to relax and calm down. There is no need to run away. I am not going to force myself on you, Victoria. This is your decision.”
No need to run away? That was his opinion.
“I have already had money sent to your sister,” he said.
“Mandy?” she squeaked. “No! How dare you! I don’t want her to know anything about any of this.”
“I had the money sent in your name she knows nothing about me,” he said, reassuring her. “I know she needs things, new things, like dresses and I wanted to ease your worries so you could make an objective decision.”
“How do you know anything about Mandy at all? You leave her out of this.”
A lump formed in Victoria’s throat. He knew her vulnerabilities. And he was using them against her. William Worthington was more dangerous then she ever imagined.
“I must ask her to send the money back,” she said, fighting valiantly against the thoughts of Mandy’s mended gowns and shoes that needed repairing.
“No, it is hers, no matter what decision you make,” he said, putting his hand under her chin and caressing her face. “It is a gift, the least I can do to make amends for my previous neglect.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” Controlling her quivering voice, Victoria resisted the urge to scream the question to him. “You are a horrible man.”
And she always thought the devil had horns and a red, pointy tail. How very wrong she had been.
“I believe helping your sister is a rather kind gesture and I think my offer is a fair offer. After all, you don’t want to be married, you said so yourself, in fact you are almost a spinster now.” He spoke in an annoyingly practical tone. “It isn’t as if you are saving yourself for a husband. And what an utter shame for you to never know passion with a man.”
His words struck a raw nerve.
“Spoken by an arrogant man…as if that is the only thing a woman could possibly need to fulfill her life. Furthermore, my choice not to marry doesn’t make me into the kind of woman you are insinuating or make you the right man to concern himself with my personal matters.”
“Having intimacy in your life outside of marriage does not make you ‘that kind of woman’ Victoria, it is only your provincial upbringing that gives you such a mind on the matter.”
“What about you?” she asked. “You will soon be married. What would your fiancé think of such abominable behavior?”
“I told you before, that is a separate matter.”
“Perhaps she would not think so…but as things are, you can probably marry no matter what relationship you have with me.”
“Victoria, do you plan to marry? Tell me that? Do you have a cowboy at home you have set your cap for?”
“Don’t be so condescending to the men at home…they would never suggest such a thing. Anyway, I told you tha
t I didn’t have any man in mind for myself.”
Victoria knew in that instant that there never would be a “cowboy” in her future because in that trice she knew her folly. She had fallen for an arrogant, cold man who would use her flesh and break her heart. And his name was William Worthington.
Heart wrenching sadness swept over her and Victoria looked away from him, willing herself not to let him see the terrible, unthinkable truth.
She was in love with the bastard.
But how could this have happened? She wanted to sob in frustration and outrage.
Love at first sight was for the Sunday paper short stories. It didn’t happen in real life, it couldn’t. Yet, somehow it had. However, whatever reason this had happened, she must fight him and the licentious lures he cast, otherwise she would get wounded. Very badly wounded.
“Then what is wrong with a friendly arrangement where we both benefit and find pleasure?” he asked softly.
“You think you can just purchase me? Just like that?” Her voice was uncharacteristically bitter. “You assume I would find pleasure with you?”
“Purchase is such a harsh word, Victoria,” he said. “This is an arrangement that is mutually beneficial. You will be better off with me because I will give you everything and anything you could ever want. It is a small price on your part, a very small price. And I will endeavor to give you exquisite pleasure.”
“Stop saying such things to me.” She was breathing quickly. Separate warring factions of pain, humiliation, and desire churned inside of her.
“It is the same thing as asking me to be a . . . well, you know ... you might as well call me a prostitute.” She turned her hot face away from him while her treacherous mind formed a scene of the two of them naked in bed. She should feel utter and complete shame at the image, but did not.
Oh God forgive her, she did want him that way.
“No, you are wrong, Victoria, it isn’t the same as being a prostitute and lying with many men. This sort of thing goes on all the time. Respectable women, many of them, are mistresses.”
The Letter Page 6