Unable to bear watching the woman flirt with Garrick any longer, she turned her attention back to the gentleman who’d escorted her into dinner. The man’s conversation had been tediously boring throughout the meal, but it was a far better pain to bear than watching Louise Campton attempting to seduce Garrick. Especially when it seemed as though she was succeeding.
Shortly after the last course of the meal, Lady Rothschild invited the ladies to join her in the parlor while the gentlemen enjoyed an after dinner drink. Ruth didn’t bother looking in Garrick’s direction as she left the room, but she could feel his eyes on her.
As she followed the women back toward the parlor, she had the sudden urge to plead a headache and leave before the men rejoined them. But Louise Campton would notice, and she wasn’t about to let her know she was upset by Garrick’s interest in the woman.
A footman politely stopped her.
“My lady.” The young man offered her a note and stepped back to wait patiently as she opened it up.
I wish to see you. Now. While the note was unsigned, she was reasonably certain it was from Garrick. It looked like his handwriting, although his previous notes had never been so authoritative, but this—this missive was an order. She could read it in the hard, bold strokes of the ink. When had she become his to command? Especially when he’d been so attentive to Louise Campton. She raised her head, and the footman immediately stepped forward, clearly expecting her to do as the note bid.
“If you’ll follow me, my lady. His lordship is waiting.”
“Tell his lordship he can continue to wait,” she snapped and returned the note to the footman with a sharp thrust of her hand. She turned on her heel, only to have the footman touch her arm.
“Forgive me, my lady, but Lord Seymour was most insistent. He said he has information regarding Lord Stratfield.”
“Lord Seymour?” For the first time, she wondered if she’d mistaken Garrick’s handwriting for someone else’s. She stretched out her hand. “Let me see the note again.”
The footman handed her the note in silence, and she frowned as she tried to determine whether she’d been wrong. She didn’t know a Lord Seymour, nor did she remember being introduced to him. But if she was wrong and it wasn’t Garrick summoning her, it might be someone who wanted to hurt him. And no matter how angry she was that he’d been so engrossed with Louise Campton, she wouldn’t let anyone hurt him if she could help it.
As the last of the women disappeared through the doorway she silently gestured for the servant to lead the way. The footman guided her deeper into the Rothschild mansion, stopping in front of a nondescript door and opening it for her. She walked into a small office dimly lit by a tiny gaslight on the far wall. Centered in the middle of the room was a large desk, while several tall cabinets lined the walls.
It was difficult to see much of anything in the near darkness as she moved toward the center of the room. She’d almost reached the desk when she heard the door close behind her and the key turn in the lock. Startled, she whirled around and raced toward the door. Grasping the doorknob, she shook it in a futile attempt to open the door. Fear nipped at her as she slapped her palm against wood.
“Come back and open this door,” she called out. “Do you hear me? Let me out of here this instant.”
She pounded at the door in anger. Whoever had arranged for her entrapment might find it amusing, but she didn’t. Not one bit. Lord Seymour indeed. A sudden tingle on the back of her neck made her stiffen as she suddenly realized she wasn’t alone. Before she could turn and face them, a warm body pressed into her back and gently crushed her against the beveled panels of the walnut door.
The woodsy scent of sandalwood filled her nostrils as resentment spiraled its way into her muscles and she stiffened. Garrick. He’d tricked her. She tried to turn and face him, but he held her fast. His hands forced hers to lie flat against the walnut door, while he braced his body against hers in a manner that stirred her arousal despite her irritation with him. She tried to slide out from underneath him once again, incensed by her body’s reaction.
“Don’t fight me, my lady. We both know Stratfield is likely to be jealous if he knows you’ve been with another man.”
One cheek resting against the door, she could barely see him out of the corner of her eye, but the husky sound of his voice caressed her like an invisible piece of velvet. Furious at her inability to feel nothing at his touch, she angrily latched onto his ludicrous statement in an effort not to succumb to the desire threatening to take over her body.
To even suggest that he’d be jealous at the thought of her with another man was ridiculous. He’d been so busy flirting with Louise Campton, he’d paid no notice to her at all. The memory of his attention to the other woman fired her anger again.
“Another man—”
“I’ve been watching you all evening.”
“I find that highly unlikely.” She sniffed with umbrage. The bastard had been too preoccupied with someone else. Her teeth clenched at the thought.
“Unlikely?” A quiet laugh breezed across the back of her neck. “You barely ate your meal, you toyed with your necklace throughout the evening, and you had no idea that you are the most beautiful woman here tonight.”
She stiffened against the door. Had he truly been watching her after all? Impossible. She would have known. Perhaps the one thing the man hadn’t noticed was how she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him and his flirtation with Louise Campton. But she had eaten very little and had nervously played with her necklace. She drew in a breath as she realized she was giving way to him.
“Forgive me, Lord Str—” A warm hand covered her mouth to silence her effectively. The touch had a dangerous edge to it and a small shiver of excitement skated down her spine. She immediately berated herself for letting his touch make her feel anything.
“No names, my lady.” His voice was a rough whisper breathing fire across her back as his mouth grazed her shoulder. “Remember the rules. We’ve never met before.”
The game. Her heart skipped a beat. Sweet heavens, she’d been so angry with him, it had never occurred to her that this might be the game she’d suggested before they’d left the town house. And she’d expected a mild flirtation, not an intimate seduction in the house of their host, especially with the danger of someone noticing their absence. His hand left her mouth to caress the side of her neck. It was a slow, sensual touch that burned its way through her until her body grew warm with anticipation.
“You are presumptuous in your attentions, my lord.” She forced the words past her lips as his hand moved downward to cup her breast. The touch pulled a gasp from her, and his teeth lightly abraded the side of her neck.
“And I think your protest is a façade,” he whispered in a low, velvety tone that made her legs weaken beneath her.
“Even if what you say was true, this is hardly the place . . .” Her words died in her throat as his hands left hers to slowly draw her skirts up and bunch them at her waist, while his hard body held her in place against the door. She gasped the moment his hands gripped her thighs, the heat of his touch spreading its way into every part of her body.
“Don’t try to deny you’re enjoying yourself, my lady.”
His mouth seared the back of her neck, and she breathed in the rough male scent of him. Oh God, he smelled wonderful. He was right. She was enjoying this—far too much. His fingers kneaded her flesh as he pressed his legs into the back of her thighs.
Through his trousers and the thin material of the short drawers beneath her corset, she could feel him growing hard against her. Surely he wasn’t planning to seduce her completely. Someone might come looking for them. Her breathing grew erratic at the dangerous thought. She knew it was reckless to feel excitement, but she did. Still, she forced herself to try and make sanity prevail.
“I don’t think—”
“I once had someone tell me not to think, but to feel.”
Sinful. It was the only word she could think of to
describe his voice. The sound of it was a dark caress that hinted at something decadent as he quoted her own words back to her. Her mouth went dry as she suddenly realized he was no longer a student. The way he’d planned this small tryst and the masterful way he was seducing her said he’d paid close attention to everything she’d taught him over the past month.
She inhaled sharply as his hand slid across her leg to reach the spot just above the apex of her thighs. A familiar liquid warmth dampened the fragile silk drawers. Merciful heaven was he planning to make her have an orgasm right here and now? Her heart slammed into her chest at the deliciously wicked idea. She shuddered. They couldn’t. There was enough scandalous talk about them as it was.
“Please . . .”
“Please what, my lady?”
The confidence in his voice was something she’d never heard before. It reinforced the fact that he’d graduated from inexperienced pupil to devastating seducer. A man capable of enticing her to submit to his bidding. His hand moved again to press into her stomach at a spot just below her corset.
A moment later, his hand tugged forcefully at her drawers, and she gasped out loud with shock. Seconds later, desire spiraled through her belly only to explode in her nether regions as his fingers brushed across the top of her mound. Dear God, she’d never experienced an erotic seduction like this before.
Her entire body tingled with desire, and every touch of his hand intensified the sensation until her breathing was coming in short pants. Suddenly, his fingers parted her folds to lightly stroke the nub between them. The hedonistic caress pulled a low moan out of her.
“You like that, don’t you.” His satisfaction was clearly evident in his words as he moved his hand back to her thigh. She whimpered at his withdrawal.
“Yes,” she gasped.
“A teacher of mine once told me that some women like to hear a man whisper naughty words into their ears.” His teeth nibbled at her earlobe. Her knees gave way, and only his body kept her from sliding to the floor. “Are you one of those women, my lady?”
“Oh God,” she whispered hoarsely. She couldn’t remember any man ever arousing her to such a fevered pitch before.
“Answer me, my lady.” The low growl rumbled in her ear like a distant thunderstorm. A tempest that would most likely strip her of every sense or sensibility she possessed.
“Yes,” she whispered with a ragged breath.
His hips shifted against the back of her thighs, and she could feel the hard length of him leaving its imprint on her buttocks. His fingers threaded with hers against the door as his mouth left a trail of fire across her shoulder. She wanted to kiss him. Needed to feel his mouth on hers, on every inch of her body. She tried to turn toward him, but he easily held her in place.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” The words were harsh against her ear as his hand brought hers downward to touch his stiff erection. “From the first moment I saw you, I’ve wanted nothing more than to bury my cock inside you.”
She gasped at the images his words produced. Only two or three times had he spoken to her in such a manner. In both instances, he’d been uncomfortable, almost shy, using the words. Now, his voice was strong and demanding. He was in complete command of his words and his desire, and that was more shocking than his language.
It sent a frisson dancing down her back as she stroked him through his trousers. Touching him like this only intensified the need inside her. Her body ached for a completion she knew only he could give her. God, she wanted him now. At this moment in time, she didn’t care if someone discovered them here. She didn’t care what people might think. All that mattered was her need to have him inside her bringing her to a climax only he could give her.
“Please, I want—”
“Want?” he rasped tightly and with a fervency that thrilled her. “You have yet to understand the meaning of the word, my lady. When I’m done with you tonight, your sweet cunny will be weeping for my cock.”
The raw, coarse words sucked the air from her lungs, leaving her breathless. Never in her life had she ever wanted a man so badly. A soft sob ripped from her throat at the realization that for the first time in her life she was no longer in command of her own senses. She was the one out of control and desperate for fulfillment. The abrupt departure of his warmth stunned her.
Still pressed against the door, she waited for some other delicious torment to assault her senses. When that didn’t happen, puzzlement and an intense frustration caused her to stiffen. Slowly, she turned around, her back against the door as her only support because she was certain her legs were still too weak to bear her weight.
In the dim light of the office, she saw Garrick standing a few feet away. A small smile of satisfaction curved his sensual mouth, but it was the blazing desire in his gaze that made her tremble once more. Her hand went to her throat as she stared at him with uncertainty. Why had he stopped? She’d been more than willing to do whatever he’d asked of her.
“I like this game of yours, my lady,” he said in a husky voice filled with amusement. “The anticipation is quite . . . exhilarating.”
“Anticipation?” She stared at him in bewilderment.
“Yes. The expectation of the pleasure to come.”
“To come?” she choked out. He’d teased her into a frenzied state, knowing full well he didn’t intend to satisfy her until later. And the fact that he seemed completely unaffected by his seduction of her was just as frustrating. She wanted to strangle him, while a small part of her took pride in her creation.
“The night is far from over, my lady. I have it from Stratfield himself that I may deliver you home at the earliest possible moment.”
So the game wasn’t over. The confidence in his expression made her want to remind him that he wasn’t the only one who was skilled at seduction. She pushed herself away from the door, determined to show him that he didn’t hold all the cards in this contest. She halted when she was just out of arm’s reach and flicked her tongue out to wet her lips. His reaction was to inhale a sharp breath, and she smiled at him.
“And what is it you think will happen when you take me home, my lord?”
The slow wicked smile curling his lips made her heart skip a beat before it went skidding out of control. The man had become more devastating than she could have dreamed possible the first night she’d initiated him into the art of pleasure.
“I’m going to undress you. Not quickly, but ever so slowly. I intend to worship every inch of your beautiful body with my mouth.” He reached out and trailed one finger along the edge of her jaw. “And I confess the prospect of seeing you naked beneath me excites me immensely. It excites me to know that you will be mine and mine alone.”
It was nothing less than a declaration of possession. He was stating emphatically that she was his, and no other man could have her as long as he wanted her. The flame she’d tried to quench earlier sprang from the embers as hope flared to life inside her.
“Then perhaps we should return to the party for a reasonably discreet time until you can escort me home, my lord,” she whispered in a sultry tone. “The thought of us pleasuring each other is exciting to me, too. Particularly when I know how delicious you will taste when my mouth is sucking on you.”
He took a quick step toward her and kissed her hard before he released her just as hastily. Withdrawing a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and opened it.
“Go. Now. Before I forget we’re playing a game and take you right here on the desk.”
The strangled sentence indicated he’d reached his breaking point, and the sound relieved her. The nonchalance he’d displayed after his seduction of her and even when she’d tried to seduce him illustrated nothing more than an iron will on his part. It was a relief to know she’d affected him far more than he’d allowed her to believe.
Without a word, she hurried past him, her body tingling as she heard the door close behind her. Weak-kneed, she moved down the hallway as quickly as she could. She had no idea h
ow long she’d been gone from the gathering, and she was certain her disheveled appearance was bound to raise eyebrows.
Ahead of her, she could hear the sound of voices, and the sight of a mirror on the wall made her draw in a breath of relief. She paused to examine her image and stared with something akin to shock. There was a glow to her face she’d never seen before. Even her eyes sparkled, and she tried to dismiss the cause.
Lust was the reason she looked like a woman in her late twenties or early thirties, nothing more. Quickly, she pinned several strands of hair that had fallen down to brush the side of her face. Satisfied that she’d repaired her appearance sufficiently to not arouse too much suspicion, she forced herself to enter the Rothschilds’ main salon.
An empty chair just inside the parlor’s doorway seemed the perfect place to sit quietly in hopes that no one had noticed her missing. Relief spread through her as no one turned to study her with suspicion, and after a minute or two, she was able to breathe much more easily.
Allegra met her gaze from across the room and sent a conspiratorial smile in her direction as Garrick appeared in the doorway. Heat flooded her cheeks at her friend’s amused expression. She didn’t look at him as he came to her side and bent his head.
“Plead a headache in a few minutes,” he rasped. “If you wait any longer, I’ll drag you out of here in spite of the scandal it will cause.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond as he walked away, his stride rigid. As she watched him join their hostess, Ruth marveled at the fact that he wanted to be alone with her so badly that he was willing to cause a scene. A rustle of silk caught her attention, and she glanced at the woman who’d sat down next to her. She immediately went rigid in her seat as she met Louise Campton’s malicious gaze of amusement.
“My dear Lady Ruth, might I say you look lovely this evening. It’s obvious the young baron’s attentions have done wonders for your spirits.”
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