A Scandalous Deal
Page 13
She couldn’t worry about anything else.
Chapter Nine
Phillip grinned as the carriage finally stopped at the corner of Twenty-Sixth Street and Madison Avenue. An imposing Moorish-style building dominated the entire city block—a structure Eva’s little architecture-loving heart needed to see.
Architecture was a passion for her, much more than just overseeing a project here and there for her father. She knew construction and physics. Knew buildings and angles, materials and earth. She was intelligent, coolheaded, and fairly glowed while at the excavation site.
Considering that, he wanted to show her this particular building, witness the joy of discovery and appreciation in her hazel eyes, one architecture aficionado to another. Beyond that, whatever else happened was entirely up to her.
He hoped, however. Oh, how he hoped.
He angled out of the brougham and stepped to the walk. She emerged, eyes wide, her head tilted up at the yellow pressed brick as he helped her down. He liked the feel of her hand, so small and delicate in his own.
“What is this place? It almost looks like a castle.”
“This is the new Madison Square Garden. The amphitheater opened last month and the other parts are still under construction. Would you like to explore it with me?”
“Are we . . . ? That is, will anyone mind?”
“Not a bit. I know Mr. White, the architect, and he’s given us permission.” They started toward the archways that marked the entrance. A man waited by the interior set of doors. Phillip removed his derby and held out his hand. “You must be the manager.”
“I am Mr. Perkins. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mansfield. Right this way. I’ve turned on the lights for you and opened the roof.”
“Opened the roof?” Eva exclaimed. “What on earth does that mean?”
Phillip shared a grin with Mr. Perkins then whisked her through the second set of doors. “Allow me to show you.”
He’d been inside the building once, earlier in the process, so he had a basic understanding of the layout, though this finished version looked much different. They went under the towering risers of seats and came out into the cavernous amphitheater. Eva gasped at his side, her head swiveling to take it all in. The power had been switched on, so rows of lights illuminated the steel girders above, the effect almost like a circus tent. Private boxes stacked the far end, while lines of seats filled the two levels surrounding the giant center.
“This is astounding. Is that a hole in the roof?”
“The skylight slides to allow in air. It’s operated with a mechanical system similar to a bicycle wheel.” He pointed to the mechanism. “This main section of the Garden is the biggest in the world. It seats around nine thousand, with room for thousands more on the floor. Additionally, there’s a tank underneath the floor that can be filled with water for aquatic events, like water polo and fishing.”
He watched her study White’s design choices. Her red hair flamed in the yellow electric light, soft strands escaping her bonnet. A natural beauty, Eva was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen, even after she’d spent all day at a dirty, dusty construction site. Milliken feared half the workers were already in love with her, the other half merely in lust. Phillip could understand why, though he’d kill any man who touched her against her wishes.
She faced him, a huge infectious grin splitting her face. He swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat as she said, “You knew I would love this.”
“Yes, I thought you might. You haven’t even seen the best part yet.”
“Something better than this? I cannot believe it. This is amazing.”
He took her hand, laced his fingers with hers, and led her toward the opposite side. Two spots of color emerged on her fair cheekbones but he pretended not to notice as they circled the giant arena. He had no intention of letting her go.
In the back they continued along the mosaic floors, up a marble staircase, until they reached the theater, which was still under construction. “This will be the indoor theater.” He pulled open the door for her to peek into the dark interior. The carpet and seats hadn’t yet been installed but the proscenium and stage were finished.
Next he let her glimpse the unfinished concert hall, which would eventually seat three thousand. As they rode the tiny metal elevator up to the roof, she nearly bounced on her toes with excitement. “I cannot imagine what else there is to see. I’m already thoroughly astounded.”
“Patience, my lady.”
She cocked her head, her brows lowered. “How do you know so much about this building? Are you an investor?”
“No, Vanderbilt owns it. I am merely a fan of buildings, as are you.”
“But why? Did you want to be an architect?”
He thought about it. “My father built half of Lower Manhattan before he died. I suppose constructing new properties is in my blood.”
The elevator stopped and he threw open the metal gate. She passed through first. “Yet you focus mostly on hotels.”
“I do. More Americans now travel because of the trains and I want to build a string of hotels across the country.”
They went along a covered Grecian-style promenade that overlooked an open space. “What will be down there?” she asked.
“A large restaurant. On this level will be a space for smaller performances. Here we are.” They turned the corner to reveal the roof garden and its charming Chinese pagoda. Eva stopped dead in her tracks, her head tilted up at the incredibly tall tower. Her mouth fell slightly ajar. “It’s . . .”
“Do you recognize it?” He knew damn well she did, so he let her say it.
“The Giralda Tower in Seville, Spain,” she breathed. “I cannot believe it. It’s stunning.”
“You’ve seen the original, then?”
She nodded, still fixed on the tower looming over them. “Yes, many years ago my father took me. There’s nothing more magnificent on earth than the Cathedral of Seville. What is that at the top there, that copper figure?”
“Diana, the Roman goddess of the hunt. Quite nude, too. The conservatives are making a hue and a cry over it.”
“Oh, they mustn’t take it down. How do we—?” Her head swiveled as she tried to find a better angle to see the statue.
“Come along.” He held out his hand, curious if she would take it. Without blinking, she slipped her hand into his large grip. He smothered a smile and guided her to where he’d been told the stairs could be located. The tower would be inaccessible to the public once the Garden officially opened so he was glad they were able to enter it now.
After another elevator ride, they climbed a spiral staircase up the center, a slight breeze blowing in from huge open windows cut into the brick on all sides. The sun had set, leaving twinkling lights to illuminate the city around them. They went up and up, higher and higher, to just below the tall spire. Both of them were breathing heavily by the time they reached the observation point, a narrow stone platform not deep enough for two.
Eva strode out onto the platform and gripped the balustrade. “Phillip . . . my goodness. It’s the entire city.”
He remained inside the tower itself, content to merely watch her. The backdrop of the island, miles of flickering light and dark sky, stood behind her, mesmerizing him.
Or perhaps it was merely this unusual, compelling woman.
“Come see.” She beckoned with her hand. “This must be the tallest point in Manhattan.”
“Second tallest, actually. And I’m fine where I am.” Watching you.
She turned, one brow arched. “Why, Phillip Mansfield. Are you afraid of heights?”
“Not afraid of heights, per se. Just afraid of falling.”
“What if I promise to hold your hand?” She strolled toward him, clearly enjoying this bit of superiority over him. “I won’t let you fall.” Strong fingers threaded his own, her face now close enough that he could bend and kiss her without much effort.
So that’s exactly what he did.
So she relaxed, surrendered, as he yanked her closer, their lips molding and shifting over one another, a wicked dance that needed no words, no air. His mouth was soft, so unexpectedly lush for a man his size. He was all finesse and technique, not brute strength, coaxing as opposed to overpowering her. She’d never been kissed this thoroughly—unless she counted the night in his cabin.
Her arms wound around his neck, fingers sliding into thick, silky hair. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she parted them eagerly, allowing him to lick inside, to find her tongue and stroke it with his own. The effect was like a jolt of brandy, warming her everywhere while weighting down her limbs. She held on, lost in him, lost in this moment where nothing else existed but the two of them.
Determined hands slid over her ribs and hips, everywhere he could reach, and she could feel her resolve melting, all the feeble reasons for resistance evaporating as the kiss dragged on. Her fingers dug into the heft of his wide shoulders, enjoying the shift of muscle and bone through his clothing as he moved.
His breathing labored, he drew back and stared into her eyes. Large hands cupped her face, fingers gentle on her jaw, as if he were desperate to keep her in place—not that he needed to worry. She had no intention of running away. “Yes,” she whispered to the unspoken question in his gaze.
His nostrils flared ever so slightly. “Why?” His brows lowered in confusion. “Not that I’m complaining, but why now?”
She understood perfectly. A few days ago she’d insisted on professional distance. Yet how could she explain it? They were high above the city, just the two of them, in a cocoon of warm July air. “Does it matter?”
“It does to me. I’d like to know why you’ve changed your mind.”
Because she felt reckless and daring again, just as she had that night on the ship. And because she wanted him, wanted to experience the same wicked things he’d done to her before. The area between her thighs grew slick just thinking on it.
Her reputation in England was ruined anyhow; no decent man would marry Lady Unlucky. What was to prevent her from having fun while in America, especially when he’d promised no one would find out?
She went with a coy answer instead. “Isn’t that what women do?”
One side of his mouth kicked up. “Most women, perhaps. However, you’re not most women. There’s no one else who can begin to compare.”
Before she could wrap her head around that heady compliment, he kissed her again. She felt herself being pulled under, mindless to what was happening, all instinct and urges as the kiss wore on. Soon she grew restless, the craving for him a fever in her blood. She pressed closer and he grasped her hips, bringing them flush with his own, and his erection pushed against her pubic bone. She hadn’t touched him at all during their night on the ship—at least that she remembered. Now she longed to undress him and map every detail before she lost the chance.
Because, honestly, a woman with three dead fiancés in her past knew exactly how everything could change in an instant. What if she never had this opportunity ever again?
Decision made, she slipped her hands inside his coat and started to push the fabric off his shoulders. Large fingers wrapped around her wrists, stopping her. “Not here,” he panted.
“Yes. Right here.”
He made a disbelieving noise in his throat. “No. There’s no room to ravish you properly here. I need to thoroughly consume you, to wreck us both. I want to destroy you for all other men in both England and America. Hell, any country on the planet.” His thumbs caressed her wrists, his espresso brown stare nearly black in the moonlight. “Let me take you to my home. We’ll be alone there.”
Her knees wobbled, bones gone liquid at the provocative words. Oh, the temptation . . . She could almost see them together in his bedroom, on a bed probably as big as an island, their bare limbs entwined. Skin hot and sweaty as the pleasure built higher and higher. Sweet heaven . . .
Reality quickly returned, however. She could not be seen skulking in and out of his home. Servants talked and there was always the risk of someone catching her. Her career—her father’s career—lay in her very hands. “No, absolutely not.”
He frowned and maneuvered them so her back was to the stone. Then he dropped a string of kisses along her jaw, over the skin exposed above her collar. His teeth sank into the tender flesh of her neck, gently biting. Tingles shot through her limbs, white-hot stars that pulsed in her veins and settled between her legs. “I loved seeing that mark on your creamy skin,” he murmured into her throat, referring to the love bite he’d left on the ship.
“It certainly was a surprise.”
“For me as well. I’ve never lost control with anyone like that. Were you angry?”
Not as much as she probably should’ve been. It had served as a reminder of one of the best nights of her life. “No.” She leaned up and nipped his jaw. “But don’t do it again.”
He chuckled. “Fine. Shall we find a hotel?”
With all those prying eyes? How did one even manage such a rendezvous? “No.”
“Eva . . .” He rested his forehead on her temple. “Be reasonable. I’m about to incinerate.”
As was she. Here, it had to be here. Where no one would discover them. Where they could be alone in a city full of over a million people. To convince him, she did something no proper lady would ever consider: she snuck a hand between them and placed it directly on his erection. He jerked, surprised, and then exhaled, rocking his hips into her grip. “Oh, Christ.”
She hadn’t ever touched a man so intimately and the intoxicating power of controlling his pleasure appealed to her instantly. Phillip’s eyes remained closed, jaw clenched, as she continued to smooth her palm along his thick length. He shivered when she added more pressure. He gasped when she used her nails. When she reached for the fastening on his trousers, he stilled her wrist. “Come with me.”
He led her down the circular stairs to a landing where a carved wooden door was nearly hidden off to the right. Phillip tried the knob and the latch turned, revealing a secret room. “What is this?” she asked as he ushered her into the semi-dark space.
“The architect’s apartments.” Moonlight filtered through the uncovered windows to reveal bare floors, Roman columns, and unpainted walls. Dust billowed beneath their feet, most likely a combination of plaster and sawdust. The familiar smell of raw wood and sweat hung heavily in the air, with only a few pieces of furniture to break up the emptiness. “He said most of the rooms are not finished, but I am hoping—Oh, thank God.”
He came to a halt in a large room, where a wooden bed frame supported a mattress covered in plush white bedclothes. The walls were painted a deep scarlet and a great Japanese fan hung from the ceiling, thick carpets covering the wood floor. Goodness, it was like a Covent Garden bordello. This was not a residence for a wife, that was for certain.
While tawdry, the surroundings did not dissuade her in the least. “Will he mind that we are here?”
“Not a bit, considering his purpose in building this space as his own.” He faced her, his body crowding her smaller frame in the most delicious way as he held her gaze. “I meant what I said, Eva. I want you to be sure. I won’t give you any cause for regrets.”
She appreciated his concern, though it was for naught. There would be no regrets. Doubtful a man existed who’d overlook her reputation or her career choice. She might as well be searching for a unicorn. “I want this. I want you.”
“May I undress you?”
The earnest question gave her a moment’s pause. She had the sensation of standing at the edge of a cliff, one step that would forever change her life, but she knew he would not hurt her. She hadn’t be
en in the frame of mind to refuse him that night on the ship, yet he hadn’t forced her, hadn’t taken advantage of her in any way. Whatever happened between them tonight was up to her. He would respect her wishes and not push her further than she desired.
The realization emboldened her. How had he known exactly what she needed to hear to proceed? Putting that thought out of her mind for now, she reached for him. “I’d rather undress you.”
Her words went through Phillip like a jolt of direct current and he swallowed hard. “Perhaps it’ll expedite matters if we each tend to ourselves.”
“I sort of fancied playing your valet.” Her mouth curved in the most seductive, alluring way and he found himself kissing her. She met him eagerly, her lips attacking his with a hunger to match his own. Hands shoved the coat off his shoulders, the fine cloth dropping to the carpet. He unfastened his cuff links and slipped them in his trouser pockets while she loosened his necktie.
He liked her boldness. It had been one of the first things he’d noticed about her aboard the ship. For a proper lady, she could quite easily bring him to his knees. Then his necktie was on the ground and she attended to the buttons on his vest, slipping them free of the holes. Her knuckles brushed the thin cloth covering his stomach and his cock jerked.
Breaking off from her mouth, he trailed kisses over her jaw and throat while he removed the strip of cloth around her waist. His clumsy fingers, rough and callused from boxing, were shaking with need as he began to work on the ties of her skirt, anticipation strumming in his veins. He considered savoring the experience, unwrapping her slowly and carefully, but he was too damn desperate.
From there, he peeled apart her high-necked shirtwaist, undoing the tiny pearl buttons between her breasts, down her stomach. His vest disappeared at some point. Her cotton corset cover came next, leaving her in a silk and cotton beige corset. He drew back to stare at her. With one finger, he traced the delicate lace edge at the top of the garment, her ample bosom heaving with labored breaths, arms now at her sides. “You are incredibly lovely,” he whispered.