Perfect 2 - A Perfect Groom

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Perfect 2 - A Perfect Groom Page 13

by Samantha James

And it was then, at that precise moment, that she knew…

  She wasn’t alone.

  It was Justin, of course. Of course, her mind echoed. Why, who else would it be? Oh, if she could only pretend she did not see him! Alas, he stood at the bank where she’d left her bonnet, shoes, and stockings. Her heart leaped. He was dressed informally — a loose white flowing shirt, tight buff breeches, and boots. She had to consciously slow the beat of her heart.

  Damnation! He was smiling as his gaze traveled from her face to the slim curve of her exposed legs. Several things ran through her brain in that instant. Modesty commanded that she drop her skirts immediately and bolt. Yet if she did, they’d be instantly soaked. And once she returned to the house, which was inevitable unless she stayed out till after dark, how the devil was she to explain it?

  And he knew it. Oh, yes, he was keenly aware of her predicament, for a maddening smile lurked about his mouth. He shook his head. “Ah, Arabella, I can almost reach out and catch hold of your thoughts, you know.”

  “Indeed,” she retorted pertly. “And what am I thinking?”

  “You’re wondering if you should run. Or if you should drop your skirts and hide yourself from me.”

  “I fear, sir, that I can do neither.”

  His maddening smile widened further. “This is true.”

  Arabella’s cheeks burned with the heat of a blush. “It occurs to me, sir, that you have a most decided predilection of coming upon me at the most inconvenient of times.”

  Her prim tone made Justin want to laugh aloud. Lord, she was sweet!

  “Odd that you should see it that way,” he mused lightly. “I’d begun to fancy myself your rescuer. Do I not always appear in your hour of need?”

  “You?” She was clearly aghast.

  He cocked a brow. “A misconception, then?”

  “Indeed! I do believe you’ve decided your sole purpose in life is to torment me.”

  “Now, why would you say that?” He allowed his gaze to slide slowly over her form.

  Her mouth turned down. “Stop staring at me like that!”

  “Like what?” She regarded him with eyes both pleading and distressed. She was right, he decided vaguely. He was tormenting her. But…sweet Christ, he couldn’t resist teasing her just a little.

  “My dear Arabella, you cannot stay there forever. However, if you so choose, then I am compelled to inform you that I am ever so willing to continue to avail myself of a view that is most pleasing to the eye.”

  “Oh!” Her cheeks were flaming, almost the color of her hair.

  He took pity on her. “Here, now. Come out before you catch your death.”

  He was right. She couldn’t stay there forever. Her feet were beginning to go numb.

  “Turn your back,” she pleaded.

  To her utter surprise, no argument was forthcoming. He turned to the side.

  Biting her lip, Arabella began to wade toward him. But the rocks beneath her feet were slippery. Concentrating on her feet, she carefully made her way toward him, unaware that Justin had glanced back over his shoulder. Avid green eyes tracked her progress. She was almost there when she slipped precariously.

  “Ohhh!” A cry escaped.

  A long arm shot out, closing about her waist and swinging her high. The next thing she knew, there was dry ground beneath her feet.

  A husky laugh rushed past her ear. “There, now — safe, sound, and nary a drop of water on your pretty gown. Aren’t you glad I wasn’t a gentleman after all?”

  For the span of a heartbeat, her fingertips rested on the plane of his shirt. Her mind registered warmth. Hardness. A taut masculine strength that sent a tremor of reaction all through her.

  She recovered herself quickly, drawing her hands away. “You are a rogue,” she accused without heat. “But thank you anyway.”

  He swept her a gallant bow. “I remain, as ever, your most humble servant.”

  “Justin Sterling, humble?” She smiled. “Now, that I should like to see.”

  The rogue had clearly reappeared. “And that is the most enchanting smile I’ve yet to see this Season,” he declared. “More enchanting yet since I believe it’s the first you’ve ever directed at me.”

  Arabella wrinkled her nose at him. She moved to sit on the grass near her slippers and stockings. Her legs were still wet, she noticed absently. She’d have let the breeze dry them before donning her hose again. It struck her then…a lady never exposed her hands to a man unless she was eating. Yet here she was, without gloves, sitting here in her bare feet before Justin…and it was like she’d done so every day of her life.

  She watched as he dropped down on the grass beside her. “How long were you watching me?” she murmured.

  “Long enough to know I’d give a fortune if I knew what the devil you were thinking about prior to the moment you noticed me. I found your expressions most intriguing, Arabella. You reminded me of a sly little imp up to mischief.”

  Arabella couldn’t help it. A betraying flush crept beneath her skin. She could feel it moving from her neck to her face.

  “Ah, you’re blushing,” he said knowingly. “I daresay it was something shockingly untoward you were thinking of.”

  “I doubt there’s anything that could shock you,” she retorted promptly.

  “Probably true.” He leaned back on an arm. “We’re much alike, you and I.”

  Arabella gasped. “We are not!”

  He plucked a blade of grass and fingered it. A gleam in his eyes, he glanced at her. “Aren’t we?” he said almost lazily.

  Arabella set her chin firmly. “I suppose you mean last night.” She looked away. “Now, see here. I’m not usually given to — to drink.”

  “If it’s any consolation, you were no less argumentative than usual.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring,” she snapped. “And pray do not laugh at me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. But you have a wild side, Arabella. I’ve seen it. I sense it. We are…kindred spirits, if you will.”

  She gritted her teeth. “We are not.”

  “You bristle. But I know you, dear girl. You were wading in the stream because no one was about, because you figured no one would catch you.” His eyes were alight. “I suppose it’s lucky you stopped with your shoes and stockings. Indeed, if I had happened upon you swimming…naked…say, whatever would Society think of dear Arabella, the vicar’s daughter…”

  Her mouth opened and closed. It was as if he’d reached in and plucked her thoughts from inside her mind! Was he right? Was she as wild as he was convinced? She winced, reminded of all the scrapes she’d been in as a child.

  “Oh, my, I do believe I’ve done the impossible. You’re speechless, Arabella. But tell me. Is it because I’m right? Or because I’m wrong?”

  “I refuse to dignify that with a response,” she said sternly.

  “Be that as it may, I, at least, am honest. I am what I am. Every one of those things you once called me. A womanizer. A wastrel. A rogue.”

  “Be serious, Justin.”

  “I am being serious.”

  She regarded him levelly. “But if you know what you are, surely you can change what you are.”

  “Can I? Can you? Ah, Arabella, I think not.” Unbidden, Justin thought of his mother’s faithlessness. Her infidelities. A bittersweet band of tightness crept around his heart, and darkness threatened. Deliberately he kept it at bay.

  Arabella was shaking her head. “I think you’re wrong, Justin.”

  “Mercy!” he mocked. “Careful, now, Arabella. Or are you trying to reform me?”

  “I don’t know,” she said earnestly. “Perhaps I am.”

  He leaned close. An unholy light glimmered in his eyes. He gave her a slow, simmering appraisal. “I might be persuaded, you know.”

  His tone was low. Lazily seductive. Arabella’s stomach knotted. She couldn’t take her eyes from his. A breeze ruffled his dark hair. His handsomeness struck her in a way that had never happened before — she,
who had thought herself immune to it! Her gaze traced over the perfect contours of his features, the slightly aquiline nose, the way his lower lip was fuller than the upper, his jaw dark with his beard.

  He was so close their shoulders brushed. What was it about this man that made her heart race? That made forbidden longings spill through every part of her, despite everything she knew of him. Despite knowing what he was, all the rakish things he’d done.

  “Justin,” she blurted, “you’ve been with many women, haven’t you?”

  She’d startled him, she realized. He gave her a long, slow look. “Where the devil did that come from?”

  Her tongue came out to moisten her lips. “The night of the masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens, I overheard some women talking about you. One said you were a lover of—” oh, surely her entire body was on fire, “of superb finesse.”

  For the space of a heartbeat, he stared directly into her eyes. She had the unsettling sensation he was wondering if he’d heard her correctly. Indeed, Arabella could scarcely believe her daring. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was a wild, wanton streak in her.

  “I see,” he said after a moment. “And are you wondering if it’s true?”

  “Well…if you’re so wicked and depraved and immoral, then why do women want you?” It all came out in a rush, and then she couldn’t seem to stop. “I’ve seen them, you know. Their lips say one thing, but when they look at you, why, it’s almost as if they wish to be debauched.”

  It was all Justin could do not to burst into laughter. The very idea that prim, proper Arabella dared to broach such a subject was mind-boggling. When he’d followed her here, never in his life did he imagine the turn of their conversation.

  Nor was she finished, it seemed.

  “Have you done licentious things?” she queried tentatively.

  “And if I said yes?”

  “Then I would ask if…if licentious things…are pleasurable.”

  He raised a rakish brow. “Why are you asking me this? Last night you claimed you were not flirting with me.”

  “And I’m not. I’m simply…” She floundered.

  “Curious?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “And I know of no one else to ask.”

  “Thank you,” he said dryly. “That was flattering.”

  Slender brows drew together over her brows. “Aren’t you going to answer?”

  “I am not.” He got to his feet and extended a hand.

  She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “Why not?”

  She stood with her back against the trunk of the tree they’d been sitting under. Very deliberately, Justin placed first one hand, then the other, on the rough bark beside her.

  Her gaze slid from one arm to the other, then jerked back to his eyes. He knew the exact moment she realized she was trapped.

  He adopted his most roguish tone. “My dear Arabella,” he said softly, “I am alone with a beautiful woman. There is no one here to see. You want to talk about licentious things, while I would rather do licentious things.” As he spoke, he leaned in even farther.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin. She wasted no time ducking under his arm. He turned as she grabbed up her shoes and stockings, holding them to her breast like a shield. Her expression, a mixture of uncertainty and righteous indignation, nearly set him off.

  He raised his brows. “What! Did you think I was going to kiss you?”

  She sniffed. “As if I would let you!” Yet despite her bravado, she scuttled to the other side of the tree and began to tug on her shoes and stockings.

  “Are you properly shocked?” he said mildly.

  “Hardly,” she snorted.

  He smiled. “Rest assured, Arabella, whatever licentious activities I may have engaged in, it was not with innocent young maidens.” He glanced toward the house. “We should be getting back. It’s almost teatime.”

  Arabella took the arm he offered, her bonnet dangling from her fingertips. They began to amble toward the house. “For a man of such vast experience,” she remarked, “you are remarkably close-mouthed. I thought men had a decided proclivity to boast about such things.”

  He assisted her over an exposed tree root. “Mostly to other men. Not to —”

  “Yes, I know.” She rolled her eyes. “Innocent young maidens. But I’m not young, you know. I’m nearly one-and-twenty. So perhaps you should rest assured that I wouldn’t be shocked at anything you decided to tell me.”

  He laughed softly. “Trust me, Arabella. Your tender ears would be singed. The smoke would be spied all the way to London.”

  “I was always a precocious child.” She had no trouble keeping up with his long-legged stride. Suddenly she pointed. “Oh, look! What is that?”

  Justin followed the direction of her finger. “It’s the gazebo.”

  “Oh!” she exclaimed. “May we stop?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but picked up her skirts and began running toward the small white structure on the hilltop.

  Justin quickened his pace. “Oh, but this is lovely!” she sang out. Slanting him a smile, she leaned forward to sniff the dainty pink roses that climbed the twin columns of the entrance. “I do so adore roses.”

  Justin stopped at the bottom of the stairs. No, he thought raggedly, she was the one who was lovely. He found her disregard for convention quite enchanting. The strings of her bonnet still trailed from her fingertips. Exertion or perhaps the sun had tinted her cheeks the fairest rose. He had to wrench his gaze from lips that were practically begging to be kissed. God, but what was behind this cursed attraction to her? She was all wrong for him. Yet being with her this afternoon…Christ, it felt so right…

  She turned to him. From where she stood on the first step, they were eye-to-eye. “Now,” she said briskly, “where were we? Oh, you were about to tell me all your secrets.”

  “Are we trading secrets, then?”

  “Indeed, you are the keeper of all my secrets,” she grumbled. “Or the ones that matter anyway.”

  He chuckled. “That grates, doesn’t it?”

  Her lips pursed. “Yes,” she muttered. “I think it’s only fair that I should have just one of yours.”

  “A secret of the licentious nature, eh?”

  “Well, yes…it makes sense, doesn’t it? Licentious. Lascivious. Libertine. What do all those things have in common?”

  “Me, I suppose.”

  Her eyes crinkled. “Very clever,” she praised. Smiling brightly, anticipating victory, she stationed herself on the top step, where she gazed down at him. Oh, he was so smug and superior! Just once she longed to have the upper hand, so to speak.

  It proved a victory short-lived. He quirked a brow. “I know what you’re doing, Arabella, and it won’t work.” Setting his hands firmly on her waist, he swung her from her perch above him.

  “Cad,” she charged.

  “Vixen,” he shot back. “But I will admit, you win points for being persistent. However, I am compelled to inform you, no matter how hard you try, I won’t tell you what you wish to know.”

  “Why not? I suppose it is a matter of principle now.”

  “Principle be damned. I’ve no intention of sinking even lower in your eyes, so my lips are sealed. Besides which, I begin to wonder if perhaps you are so insistent because it is indeed a trifle more than a matter of curiosity.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Justin began to walk on. “Simply this.” He cast a sidelong glance at her. “Are you even aware how the act of procreation is done?”

  “Of course I am. My mother told me, as well as my Aunt Grace. And —” She stopped short.

  Justin placed his hands on his hips. Her expression was decidedly guilty. “And?” he coaxed.

  She was blushing fiercely. “The night before my cousin Harriet married, I heard Aunt Grace telling her what to…” She ran the tip of her tongue around her lips. “What to anticipate in the marriage bed.”

  Justin dissolved into laug
hter. “I should have known! You were spying behind closed doors again!”

  Arabella scowled. “I wasn’t spying.”

  He only laughed the harder. “The devil you say!”

  “Forgive me for interrupting your amusement, sir.” She gestured grandly to the path before them, where the night’s rain had collected in a wide pool.

  “What?”

  “There is a puddle before us,” she pointed out.

  He smiled. “So there is,” he agreed.

  Her gaze ripened to a glare. “A gentleman, on seeing that it is too wide for me to traverse on my own, and seeing that he is wearing boots and I have but thin slippers, would offer to carry me across.”

  “My dear, you have called me many things, but never a gentleman.” His smile widened. “However, since you insist…”

  Bending low, he pitched her over his shoulder and strode through the puddle. She was still sputtering as he set her on her feet on the other side.

  Her chin climbed high. “And now I see why,” she informed him icily. “You, sir, are no gentleman, nor will you ever be.”

  Justin threw back his head and laughed as she stalked away. Now, this, he thought, was the Arabella he knew…

  Twelve

  Tea was just being served when they arrived. Arabella chatted with Georgiana and Julianna for a time, then moved to sit with her aunt and uncle. Finally, she wandered off a short distance away from the others. A pair of chaise lounges beckoned beneath the shade of a tree, and it was there she directed her steps. Uncle Joseph had been discussing his prized hunting retriever with Sebastian, and Aunt Grace was busy flitting from guest to guest.

  All the while, there wasn’t a single moment she wasn’t aware of Justin — where he was, who he was with, everything about him.

  It was distracting. Disturbing. And most disconcerting.

  For something had changed last night…and she had the oddest sensation that she was falling for him…

  Which would be most unwise.

  Indeed, downright foolish.

  Yet she found herself battling the helpless sensation there wasn’t a thing she could do to fight it. And deep down, she wondered what it would be like to be wanted — to be pursued — by Justin Sterling.

 

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