Blast it. It was as if she was fifteen again and they were back snipping and sniping at each other. "Jeremy! Be serious. Sit down."
"I have a feeling I will want to be standing." This wasn't going quite the way he had planned either. He waited stoically for the ax to fall.
No choice now. She must dive into it and hope she didn't land half seas over. "There's a man."
He hadn't expected that-that she would immediately confess to her interest in Raulton. It undercut everything.
"Isn't there always?" he said dryly, warily.
The bounder! Of course he would make it as difficult as possible. Which made her all the more determined. And besides, hadn't he had enough time to ask her about Raulton? Any man with guts and gumption would have, immediately. Blast him. He deserved the torture she was about to inflict on him.
"Jeremy, be serious. Here's the thing. I want you to teach me…"
"Teach you…?"
Yes, he was looking a little green around the gills. It was time to toss the bouncer.
"Well," she went on as artlessly as the child he thought she was, "he's an experienced man, much more so than any man of my acquaintance. Well, I mean-except you, of course. But I haven't seen you in years. Not that it matters. He is the man I would marry. So all I want you to do is teach me everything I need to know-everything a worldly woman would know-so I can fix his interest."
"That's all?" Jeremy said in a strangled voice.
She was immensely heartened by his anger, she had gotten to him, as she intended, and she felt a wash of triumph that she had scored on the first gambit.
It was a game, after all, even if he didn't know it yet.
She smiled at him brightly. "That's all."
He was thunderstruck. This was the last thing he expected her to say; but he couldn't let her see that, so he turned away from her to collect his thoughts.
This was Regina, grown-up, God help him, beautiful, spirited Regina, handing herself to him on a silver salver, giving him the reason and wherewithal to carry out Reginald's plan, and she didn't even know it.
What man could resist that offer? A man wouldn't even care that he was not the ultimate object of desire. A man was a man, and a willing woman of good breeding was the stuff of dreams that brought him to point at night.
Ah, but she didn't know what she was asking. And he was bound to go forward with Reginald's best interests in mind.
His own didn't enter into it. He had made it plain to Reginald: he wanted no woman, no entanglements, no more being in love. In short, he was the perfect man for the job. No matter what it was, no matter what it took, he was the one who could remain detached, removed, and indifferent.
He turned to face her, his consent to her wild proposal quick and intended to shock her to the point of crying off now. "Very well, Regina. Lock the door. We'll start your lessons now."
Chapter Two
Now? Now? It was too soon, too soon. She hadn't thought he would make a move this soon, blast it.
Oh lord, here he came, stalking her as though he was the fox and she was the hare. Wasn't it just like a man to take advantage? He didn't give her a minute to think.
Blast him.
"Jeremy…" Never show weakness, never. Whatever would happen would happen. She was no green girl, after all. She had been kissed. She had made this proposition to him. She knew what she was getting into.
"Exactly what did you have in mind?" Jeremy asked, when he had her backed up against the door and stood but six intimidating inches away from her.
She raised her chin, diving in head first, and knowing she might crash hard against his obdurate arrogance. "Everything."
"Delightful thought," Jeremy murmured, his gaze fixed on her mouth. Everything. She hadn't the faintest idea what everything meant. "And all for your irresistible mystery man. It seems such a waste."
"All," Regina repeated resolutely, mesmerized by the movement of his lips. They were very nice lips, she noted abstractedly, firm and curved, with just the hint of fleshy curve to the lower that made her want to bite it.
What!?
"If we are indeed to have lessons, I must know everything," he said.
She raised her eyes to him, feeling heat flare up between them. What was this? He was too close, that was what. She had to get used to him being this close. And closer still. That was what everything meant. She knew that. She did.
She felt a tremor go through her body. She had asked for this; he had every right to demand some cursory knowledge of her experience if he were going to teach her.
"I daresay you do know everything," she said spiritedly. "But the point is, I know nothing, and why should I be at such a disadvantage when the remedy is at hand."
"Why, indeed? Here is the answer to everything. I have met my destiny, lived all my life in preparation for becoming a remedy."
Now she felt impatient. The thing was as obvious as glass. "My dear Jeremy. Look at it this way: you just gave your ladylove her congé. You cannot be looking for another liaison this soon. You won't get involved. And I've known you all my life. Who would be safer than you, Jeremy?"
"Probably not the person you've known all your life," he said sourly. "You give me too much credit."
"No, I merely want to credit what I must know to deal with a man of experience," Regina said briskly, wishing he would move a step or two back. Jeremy up close was nerve-wracking. Looming. Overwhelming, even.
No. She must get used to this. This was what it was like with a man.
"He will not be easy. And I will be competing with two dozen sweet innocents he will devour like candy. So do let's begin before my father interrupts us."
"Aren't you in a tearing hurry?"
"Jeremy…"
"Oh, I'm perfectly prepared to carry on…" But he wondered if he was. This was not going to be simple. There were no instructions on how to teach the seductive arts while distracting the seductee from the object of that person's desire.
It was going to get complicated. At the very least, he had to convince her that she attracted him, as indeed she might have, were she not someone he had known forever and were he not one and thirty and she twenty. Young, artless heiresses were not his cup of tea. But Marcus Raulton seemingly had acquired a taste for them, and for some ungodly reason, Regina wanted him.
"Well then-carry on," Regina said brusquely.
Time to come to point. He moved a step closer and cupped her cheek. She had the smoothest skin, the bluest eyes, the sweetest mouth. She lifted her head defiantly against his touch, almost as if she were pulling away. But she could not escape him. Subtly he moved closer, simultaneously lowering his head and brushing those soft virginal lips with his own.
It was the barest breath of a kiss; he hovered, waiting, watching her response. Her eyes were closed, her lips curved in a faint smile.
She had been kissed then, at least as much as this. Good. Maybe.
He touched her lips then, imprinting himself there, pulling away in a long, slow movement in which he took her lower lip gently between his teeth.
But not kissed quite as much as that. Her eyes flew open. "Oh…!"
"That," he whispered, "was the kiss of a boy." She swallowed. "Oh." Of course, of course-there had to be more to it, or men wouldn't get so stirred up about the whole thing. Or have mistresses for that matter.
"And this…" He lowered his head again pressing her lips, slipping his tongue between them forcefully, and shocking her to her toes.
What was this-this heat, this wetness, this forbidden invasion-ah! She wrenched away from him, her heart pounding wildly.
"… is the kiss of a man." "Oh!" She rubbed her hand against her mouth. "And the least of what you might expect from a man like Marcus Raulton," he added brutally, just as Reginald pounded on the door.
"Open up, open up…" he sang out. "I've got tea and toast and hot chocolate and cake."
Jeremy stepped back, and Regina sagged against the door for one revealing instant. Then she turn
ed and unlatched the door and held it wide to admit her father and the maid who was pushing the tea cart behind him.
"Here we go. Sustenance for the morning," Reginald said brightly, motioning where the maid was to situate the cart and waving her away. "Have some tea, my boy. Regina, you look slightly flushed."
"Flushed out," Regina said tartly, turning her back on them to pour herself some chocolate, her brains utterly scrambled from just that one overwhelming moment of male domination.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she castigated herself as she sank into a chair in the farthest corner to examine her feelings. She should stop this right now. She wasn't equipped to handle this-either Jeremy or Marcus Raulton. Oh, especially the likes of Raulton.
She took a deep sip of the chocolate and rimmed her lips with her tongue. Dear God, what kind of kiss was that? She felt like a fool. Ancilla was right: why didn't women know anything? Why wasn't there a tutorial for kisses?
She cast a quick glance at Jeremy, who was sitting in the wing chair and jawing away with her father over inconsequen-tials. Men didn't go all topsy-turvy over a kiss, she thought resentfully, and it made her even more furious. Jeremy was as cool as a cucumber, and she was just as green.
She might just as well get it over with now; confess the whole to the both of them and that would be the end of the game.
She gripped the chocolate cup so tightly, she almost broke it. She just couldn't do it. Looking at the two of them sitting there, Jeremy so smug and unmoved by what to her had been a gross invasion of her person, and her father acting as if nothing had gone on behind closed doors when, in fact, he was probably congratulating himself for engineering it-it made her blood boil.
She could just picture them the day she had overheard them at Sherburne House, toasting the success of their little scheme to have Jeremy pretend to lust after her. High-handed wretches, the two of them.
That memory alone ought to keep her on her course. Jeremy must be punished for his complicity and her father for his presumption, and who cared what indignities she had to suffer.
She would make Jeremy suffer, too. But how-how? What if… Another thought struck her. What if… Could she? In spite of that awful kiss? What if she could make Jeremy fall in love with her?
Wouldn't that be too delicious? Oh, it would serve him right. It would be such a triumph, to set her sights on Jeremy, captivate him, and then throw him over.
And all in the course of pretending to pursue Raulton. What a scheme.
If she could get past that horrible kiss. And anything else he had in store for her. Nonsense, she could get past anything. What was a kiss, after all? It was the rest of it that gave her pause-the part about it being the least of what she could expect from Raulton.
What was the most?
Well, she had some idea. She lived in the country, after all. She had been to the barn. Of course, animals didn't kiss so that didn't enter into it. Blast it, would she never stop thinking about that kiss?
Probably not. And maybe it was best to initiate another one, and another so that she would not be so shocked next time. A person could get used to anything, she thought stringently. And how unpleasant could it be after that?
"Well," Reginald said suddenly, loudly, putting down his cup with exaggerated care, "I beg you'll excuse me. I have some letters to write and, of course, Almack's tonight. Have you secured an invitation, Jeremy?"
He slanted a glance at Regina. "Not yet." "Oh do," Regina urged him. "I fear I am fatigued and will want only to stay home tonight. But every matchmaking mother will welcome you with open arms, dear Jeremy."
"I think," Reginald said carefully, "I will leave now." He got up slowly, as if his bones ached, or maybe it was just his sensibilties, because he was exhausted dealing with his daughter. But sometimes he did look rather small and frail, Regina thought, watching him depart, and even she perceived it was not the burden of the Season weighing him down.
All would be fine in the morning, she was certain of it. Her father was nothing if not resilient. The question to hand now was Jeremy. What to do about Jeremy lounging in the wing chair and looking insufferably arrogant and male, like a lion who has cornered its prey. She felt cornered, constricted, and somehow he made her feel all that while he was still sitting some ten feet away from her.
The power of a man on the hunt was something to be reckoned with, she mused, an excellent lesson for any woman to comprehend.
"And so," Jeremy murmured, "you eschew Almack's tonight, knowing full well Raulton will be there. I would think you would want to put yourself in his way whenever you could."
"Do I? You tell me, Jeremy dear. Does a man like a woman who is obvious? Do I want to look as if I am chasing him? Or would it profit me more to continue on with our lessons so I will have the wherewithal to handle him when the time comes?"
A faint smile played around his mouth. "Yes, yes and yes."
"Thank you for nothing," Regina snapped. "You are of no use this morning whatsoever. Perhaps you ought to go." And in fact, she hadn't expected him to stay. So now what?
"I'm very comfortable where I am, thank you. And we have a long way to go. I don't think I've ever seen such aversion to my kisses. Obviously, I have much to learn myself. Or perhaps I should present some testimonials next time I want to kiss you…?"
Her chin went up. "You took me by surprise is all. And how many women have you kissed, by the way?"
"Enough to know not to confess my sins to you," he said, his voice laced with amusement.
Oh, and now he was laughing at her. She had never felt at such a disadvantage before. Blast him. Blast the strictures of a society that kept a woman ignorant of everything.
The real question was, how far she would go in her spurious quest for carnal knowledge. She eyed Jeremy consideringly over the rim of her cup. That kiss notwithstanding, there was nothing dislikable about Jeremy except that he knew her too long and too well. Not a disadvantage, except-that kiss. And maybe that was why it had shocked her so. If she had feelings for him, it probably would have been wholly different.
So, it was just a matter of getting used to it. A woman could get used to anything. At least, that was what her father kept telling her, and this was obviously what he meant.
He meant the forbidden things. The things no one talked about, except men in their clubs late at night as virgins slept and mistresses waited and anticipated.
Her instinct was utterly right about that: even to pretend to tame a man like Raulton, any woman had to know things. Carnal things. Forbidden things. Things that mistresses knew.
Well, here was she, with a man at her beckoning who was willing and ready to show her everything she needed to know. And Jeremy was not unattractive, in his cocksure way.
So there could be no more shriveling up at his kisses-because for all she knew, he had a new mistress, so she must be every bit as eager and responsive to even keep him interested enough to continue with her plan.
How hard could that be?
She bit her lip. Deuced hard, when a woman didn't know what she wanted or how to ask for it. No, she had asked for it, and then she had gone and reordered the rules, forgetting there was another component of the game: her father's scheme to circumvent her pursuit of Raulton.
And he had just gone and left her and Jeremy alone.
So, she thought, new gambit and Jeremy's move.
"Well, at least you didn't faint dead away at the word sins," Jeremy commented dryly, watching her intently. "Perhaps you can be educated after all."
That fired her up. "I'll have you know I had an excellent education," she retorted indignantly. "Just not in the more- carnal-things in life. You are supposed to give me the… the Grand Tour."
"Believe me, I'll love to give you the grand tour," Jeremy muttered, "but that's neither here nor there to your desire to attract Marcus Raulton. Which, by the way, is totally incomprehensible to me."
"Truly? But it is so simple: he's rich, well-favored, romantic, and interesting. A w
oman of spirit and intelligence could never be bored by him. Which is as reasonable a basis for marriage as any other I know. Do you not think, Jeremy?"
"I think I don't want to think," Jeremy said with teeth-clenching restraint. "It's enough to know that you are the veriest innocent and you are playing with fire when it comes to Raulton."
"Then I will get burned. But I will have him, by hook or by crook. And if you won't help me, I warrant he can teach me to kiss as well as anyone else." She slanted a derisive look at him. "Certainly as well as you."
And there he was, between the devil and the dawn, with his honor at the sticking point. How easily her taunting words rolled off her tongue. He could think of better things to do with it than just sit and listen to her. But he couldn't just take her. So it was time for some decisive action.
It was a calculated risk, granted, but he knew how to handle skittish virgins who were too full of themselves, in spite of what she thought.
"Fine," he said, levering himself out of the wing chair.
Immediately she was up and on her feet. "What do you mean fine?"
"I mean, make your proposition to anyone else-or Mr. Raulton, if you must. It is nothing to me."
This was not going the way she had thought, and how was it that Jeremy was giving up on Reginald's scheme already? Blast him.
But perhaps he wasn't. Perhaps he was playing the opposite field to bring her up to the fore. What was this game? Was she not in charge? He couldn't just change the rules. Blast it, she would be in charge.
"Jeremy…"
He held up his hand. "Don't play at cross purposes with me, Regina. I'm not some choice spirit you can wind around your little finger."
"So I see," she murmured.
"Perhaps we know each other too well," Jeremy went on, ignoring that. "Perhaps it was ill-considered of me to consent to such folly."
He was leaving, he was leaving. Blast, blast and blast. How would she, how could she stop him…?
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