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His Perfect Lady

Page 5

by Jenn Langston


  “Don’t blame me for your inability to attract a man’s attention,” Catherine quipped, unwilling to listen to her any longer.

  Evelyn’s eyes narrowed as her face tinted red. “How dare—?”

  “Mrs. Gates,” Jonathan’s smooth voice called from over Evelyn’s shoulder, sending shivers down her back. “I’m sorry. I know I’m late for our dance.”

  “That’s quite all right,” she said, grateful for his interruption. “Evelyn, please excuse me.”

  Without waiting for a response, Catherine took Jonathan’s arm and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. Falling into the familiar steps, she took the opportunity to observe him. His technique proved flawless as his body gracefully maneuvered the steps to perfection. Watching him made her feel awkward and clumsy.

  “Did you miss me?” Jonathan whispered when the dance brought them together.

  “Why should I miss you?” She kept her tone light, unable to resist flirting back with him, for his skill in that area surpassed that of any other man she’d met.

  The self—assured raised eyebrow she received in response made her laugh.

  “Everyone misses me. Why wouldn’t they?”

  The steps forced them apart, allowing her time to formulate her response. The ease of their banter had been something she missed. Acting like her true self hadn’t been a part of her other relationships with men. They all wanted something different from her, which she became. But not with Jonathan. Around him she got the feeling he wanted her. The true her.

  “The dance is not long enough for me to answer your question satisfactorily,” she returned and, as luck would have it, the song ended.

  Jonathan cocked his head to one side. “Then perhaps you’d accompany me to somewhere more private. You can tell me whatever you wish and take as much time as you’d like.”

  His lowered voice spread goose bumps across her body. As her chest tightened in anticipation, she debated giving in. Then reason took over.

  “Why not accompany me on a stroll to the terrace instead? The air is too stifling in here.”

  He let out a heavy sigh and took her arm. “As you wish. Although your location choice is decidedly less pleasant, I have found I’m powerless against beautiful women.”

  Her traitorous body sagged in disappointment as he gave in so easily and escorted her to the terrace. When he looked down at her, a question in his eyes, she shot him what she hoped was a triumphant smile. She needed to gain a better control on her emotions around him. Furthering their relationship wouldn’t benefit anyone.

  Instead of stopping among the other couples enjoying the night air, Jonathan continued into the garden. The logical part of her wanted to protest, but her more reckless side won out, and she kept her mouth shut. As they passed the well-traveled paths and delved deeper than the other guests, her heart began to pound until she couldn’t take it any longer. She stopped, earning a confused glance from Jonathan.

  “I think this is far enough, don’t you?”

  “You’ve become such a hard woman. Your husbands must have overly spoiled you.”

  Incensed at the accusation, she drew her shoulders back. “Your memory is simply faulty. I haven’t changed. You just don’t remember how you heeded all my wishes. As you will now, and in the future as well.”

  His eyes sparkled at the challenge. “You think you can control me?”

  “Without question.” As the words fell from her lips, she immediately regretted them. She knew how he’d react, or rather, how he used to react. Excitement bubbled up within her as she anticipated her punishment and lifted her chin. To her surprise, he smiled, then pulled her along to resume walking.

  “Seems as if you don’t know me as well as you thought.”

  The satisfaction in his voice made her want to slap him. Once again he teased her by not kissing her. On the verge of demanding he give in, she stopped. Did she really want him to kiss her? Even so, she shouldn’t want to.

  He’d turned to observe her with amusement lighting his face. When her eyes dropped to his lips, she lost herself. It had been too long since she’d experienced the pleasure of his mouth on hers. No one had ever kissed her the way Jonathan had. As if propelled by an outside force, she stepped forward, rising on her tiptoes.

  Obviously unmoved by her attempt, Jonathan shook his head. “Still trying to get your way.”

  Hurt by his rejection, she retreated and worked to conceal the sting. Apparently she hadn’t gained his forgiveness as she originally thought. Instead, he intended to punish her for her past actions. However, she refused to stand around and allow him to treat her this way.

  Twirling, she intended to storm away, but his restraining hand on her arm stopped her. She didn’t turn for fear he’d see the pain on her face. He needed no further encouragement. She’d offered him enough fodder.

  “Poor Cat.” His words flittered across her neck as his hands rubbed along her arms.

  The familiar pet name transported her back to a time when she had a bright future. If she’d run off and married Jonathan as they’d planned, at this moment they’d be happily married. She could see them living in London with their children scattered around them. The pleasant picture disappeared as quickly as it had come when reality settled in. He would be dead.

  When he spun her around to face him, she didn’t resist, nor did she lift her eyes to his. He chuckled softly as his finger trailed down her cheek, leaving aching flesh where he touched. Her heartbeat increased as he drew her face up. Before she realized his intentions, his lips met hers.

  She wanted to rejoice, to wrap her arms around him, but she remained motionless. The moment seemed too fragile with the chaste kiss and minimal contact. Even so, warmth built up in her stomach and slowly expanded to encompass her entire body. Her hands began to shake when his lips gently moved on hers.

  He withdrew much too soon, leaving her cold and wanting. Disappointment would have crushed her had she not seen the pent-up desire burning in his eyes. The intensity caught her unaware and stole her breath. Would he carry her off down a vacant path to release his passion upon her? She shivered. The thought didn’t bother her as much as it should.

  As he wordlessly took her arm and directed her back to the ballroom, she tried to forget the feel of his lips on hers. Kissing him had been a mistake. She needed to encourage distance between them, not intimacy.

  Once again, she’d have to allow her curse to dictate the course of action she should take. To protect him and herself, she needed to keep as far away from him as possible.

  Chapter 4

  Jonathan yanked off his cravat and tossed it, along with his jacket, into a chair after attending yet another uneventful ball. Nearly two weeks had passed since he’d kissed Catherine.

  Careful not to spill his brandy, he sank into the sofa cushions in front of the fireplace. The library had been one of his favorite spots since childhood, but it gave him no comfort tonight.

  Surrounded by the musty smell of the old paper and aged leather, memories of his father resurfaced. In this room Nicholas Alastair had spared time for Jonathan. They sat side-by-side for hours, reading and enjoying the companionable silence of the other person. Unfortunately, that hadn’t lasted long.

  “Why do you go to the ball if you intended to skulk around in the shadows, then leave?” Stanwick’s voice came from the direction of the doorway.

  Turning, Jonathan saw his brother leaning against the doorjamb. “You didn’t have to leave early, but since you’re here, grab a brandy and join me.”

  Jonathan returned his gaze to the fire, watching as the slender flames licked at the wood until it was consumed. Sometimes he felt like those logs.

  Stanwick appeared in the corner of his eye and sat down without taking a drink. Even without seeing, Jonathan could feel the concern exuding from his brother.

  “What is troubling you?” Stanwick’s voice adopted the tone their father always used. The false patience and caring mixed with an all—knowing tone a
lways irritated Jonathan.

  “Nothing of consequence. I’m merely enjoying the brandy and the solitude. What about you? With your quick exit from the ball, I assume you have grand plans.”

  His brother’s face lightened. “You could join me. I’ve met these three wonderful women, and they have graciously invited me over for a nightcap.”

  Almost choking on his brandy, Jonathan worked to maintain a straight face. Good Lord, three women. Stanwick had quickly embraced the dissolute life, far more than Jonathan ever had.

  “I believe I’ll pass this time.”

  “I’m really getting concerned about you.” Stanwick’s disappointment shone through his words.

  “Me? What have I done that could possibly cause alarm?” Taken aback by his brother’s confession, Jonathan stared at him. Refusing to share three women with his brother surely didn’t warrant concern.

  “From what I’ve heard about you, passing on an opportunity to spend the night with a woman remained beyond your ability.”

  “Can you blame a man for being tired?” Jonathan once again cursed his hard-earned reputation. It only served to aid him some of the time.

  “Well, that isn’t my entire reason for concern.”

  “What other troubles do you have to lie at my feet?”

  “Berwick.”

  Jonathan sighed heavily, then took a swallow of his brandy. He hadn’t told his brother about the proposed end of the feud, but he wasn’t surprised he’d found out. After all, news traveled fast in London.

  “I can’t see why Berwick could cause you distress over me. He is—”

  “You ended the feud. Why?” Stanwick demanded, then paused.

  Jonathan didn’t answer, prompting Stanwick to continue. “Although the origin of the hatred between our two families has been long forgotten, you of all people have every reason to hate them. All of them.”

  “I’m not one to enjoy hatred and fighting. If we can end this, why should we refuse?” Jonathan shrugged.

  Stanwick crossed his arms and lifted his chin in the air. “Does Mrs. Catherine Gates have anything to do with your decision?”

  “How is she relevant?” Jonathan’s voice emerged sharper than he intended as he met his brother’s gaze.

  “You’ve been stalking her.”

  Although Jonathan wanted to laugh and claim Stanwick’s assertion had no foundation, he couldn’t. Some truth existed in his words. Since the kiss Jonathan shared with Catherine, he couldn’t get her out of his head. The tantalizing sample of her sweetness had only whetted his appetite.

  After she’d practically forced him to kiss her a fortnight ago, he’d expected her seduction to have been satisfied by now. However, she avoided him at every opportunity. Catherine hadn’t attended most of the parties Stanwick chose to drag Jonathan to. On the rare occasion they would meet, she treated him as if nothing had passed between them.

  He would like to blame his obsession on the fact that he’d been too long without a woman in his bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe the lie. She remained the one woman who evaded him. All these long years of wondering what it would be like to bed her, he hoped engaging in the act would cure him of the constant torment of her.

  “You misunderstand. I’ve barely seen her since she arrived in London. On those few times our paths crossed, we shared some inane conversations but soon parted ways.”

  “So my observations are wrong? I have only seen you engage in one dance this whole Season. A dance, I must add, with Mrs. Gates.”

  “You’re the one insisting upon my attendance. Perhaps you should provide me with a list of ladies you’d have me dance with so I can better oblige.”

  Stanwick narrowed his eyes, then relaxed again as he sighed. “I’m only looking out for you.”

  “Don’t concern yourself.” Jonathan smiled, hoping to dispel his brother’s worry. “Go enjoy your evening. You’re only wasting time on me.”

  Stanwick gave him a lecherous grin. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

  “I’m content to remain here.”

  Without hesitation, Stanwick made his way from the room. Jonathan bit back a groan. Although he’d deliberately led people to believe he never spent one night alone, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been as lustful as his brother. However, after living a mostly celibate life under the watchful gaze of their father, Jonathan had trouble blaming Stanwick.

  Thinking about women brought Jonathan’s mind back to Catherine. Even though he didn’t appreciate his brother’s interference, Stanwick had a point. This fixation with Catherine had to end one way or another. Searching all the rooms at every event he attended had become tiresome. If he truly believed Catherine had no desire to share his bed, he’d leave her alone. However, if she felt otherwise, he’d take his chance before she could accept a betrothal.

  Unable to sleep, he rose too early the next morning. Peering out the window at the vacant street, he realized it’d be an ideal time to speak with Catherine without too many people about. Before he could change his mind, he scribbled a few lines on a parchment sheet and paid the first street urchin he found to deliver it.

  Back inside the house, he prepared himself for his outing, grabbed his coat and gloves, then headed to Hyde Park. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the cool scent of the brisk morning combined with the recent rain. Even if Catherine didn’t join him, the weather was fine and would help clear his head.

  By the time he crossed through the gates of the park, he regretted his rash decision to request Catherine meet him. This was not him. Normally he held onto himself much better in regard to a woman. The fact she could get such a reaction out of him rankled. He shouldn’t be the one vying for a woman’s affection.

  Sitting on a stone bench near the wooded area of the park, he allowed his mind to drift as he surveyed the beauty surrounding him. He never realized how pleasant and relaxing the place could be without all the false people working to improve their situation within Society.

  “Well, I’m here.” Catherine’s voice intruded upon his musings. “What did you need to see me about so urgently?”

  Jonathan lazily got to his feet. When he towered over her, her petite frame filled him with the urge to protect her. However, the irritated set of her eyes didn’t communicate a need for protection, at least not from him.

  His gaze traveled the length of her body. Her hair had been pinned up in a tight chignon, a style he knew could be achieved in a matter of seconds. The gown appeared looser than the dressmaker intended, indicating she’d dressed herself. He smiled, realizing how little time she’d wasted before answering his summons.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “After sending such a missive, you should’ve known what response you’d receive.”

  “I just wanted to prove my theory that you’d changed, which with your presence, I have accomplished.”

  “You quickly forget all the times I met you regardless of what I had to do in order to escape. Will you always only remember the one time I didn’t?” she demanded.

  Although that last failure to go to him meant so much more than all the other times she’d been there, her eyes told him she’d suffered by it as well. Even in the face of her anger, he decided to not dwell in the past.

  “Come, let’s enjoy the park before it is overrun by others.”

  He offered his arm. When she made no move to accept his escort, he gave her a half smile, raising one eyebrow. She never could dismiss a challenge, and when her warm hand touched his arm, he enjoyed the sweet taste of victory.

  As they walked along the path toward the dewy green trees, he could see Catherine visibly relaxing. The crisp air and quiet majesty of the park proved hard to ignore.

  “Now, do you intend to tell me what you wanted to see me about?”

  “Do I need a reason to want to spend time with a beautiful woman?”

  She stopped and looked over at him, her mouth open. “You call upon her at home
, then you can waste as much time as you’d like. Forcing her to meet you so early, with no prior notifications, however, demands an explanation.”

  “I thought it would be nice to talk in the light of day without your uncle hovering over us.” Jonathan shrugged, hoping she didn’t press, despite his flimsy excuses.

  “Then you could have requested an outing tomorrow or some other time to give me warning. Regardless, this is all unnecessary as I’m not sure we have anything to discuss that would require privacy.”

  “You kissed me, then avoided me. Now you say we have nothing to talk about?”

  “I did no such thing.” She drew her chin up as she crossed her arms. “You kissed me.”

  He smiled and lowered his voice as his eyes centered on her lips. “Yes, but you kissed me back. And you want to again.”

  “Nonsense. I may have returned your kiss, but only to discover it to be a mistake. One, I must add, that I have no intention of repeating.”

  She put her nose in the air as if the idea of kissing him was beneath her. He couldn’t take it any longer. Although they were away from any possible onlookers, he placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to a grove of trees. Drawing her body against his, he nearly groaned at the blessed sensation of her. His Catherine.

  Lowering his head, he captured her lips as his hands secured their bodies to one another. Desperate to awaken her memories, he thrust his tongue into the warm confines of her mouth. She tasted of surprise and honey. A flavor he’d longed to enjoy all those years.

  Overwhelmed by his own memories, his hands caressed her back as his mouth continued to devour her. His heart pounded as if desperate to escape the heat building up within his chest.

 

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