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By Arrangement

Page 34

by Madeline Hunter


  “My brother has proven most capable. I do help him when I can, of course. In fact, that is why I am in London. I intend to meet with shippers and traders based here, and convince them to forge associations with Montgomery and Tavares for their intercoastal trade in the East.”

  He assessed her again, with a gaze both curious and admiring. She clung to her pose of friendly but casual interest.

  His dark, deep-set eyes showed humor and warmth and disconcerting familiarity. His countenance subtly shifted from handsome to beautiful as his thoughts allowed the softening elegance to have its way.

  Her instincts reacted the same way that they had when he watched her in Macao. She sensed something emanating from him, something both dark and dangerously alluring. His aura became possessively invasive. His attention tried to compel her to explore a mystery that would be her undoing.

  Her inexperience had sent her running seven years ago whenever that power sought to absorb her. Now here she was, a grown woman who had seen the world, and she still wanted to hide.

  Instead, she retreated within herself. She pulled walls around her soul so that it would be safe.

  Immediately, his softness disappeared. His gaze turned searching, as if he was trying to see through that barrier.

  “So you traveled all the way to England to serve as your brother's agent? You came for no other reason?”

  He was very close to her. Too close. She had to look up to see his face. “There was no other reason to come.”

  “Wasn't there?”

  “None at all.”

  “I think that there was.”

  “Goodness—do you think I journeyed all this way to find you?” She feigned astonishment. “Of course, if I had known your true identity, I would have. I daresay you can arrange introductions in a day that it will take me weeks to obtain. If I had known that Edmund was really Easterbrook, I would have sought you out immediately upon arriving in London.”

  He responded with a lazy, devastating smile designed to disarm her. She could feel his aura sliding around her in a curious caress, seeking any gaps in her defenses. “You would have done no such thing. Whether I was Edmund or Easterbrook, you would have run away and hid from me, no matter what benefit I might bring to your missions here.”

  “Hid from you? Why would I do that?”

  “Because I frighten you. I terrified the girl, and I still alarm the woman.”

  He guessed her reaction so confidently that it irritated her. She squared her shoulders. “You are a little peculiar, and you are somewhat rude, and you have been insulting today, and you were too brooding then, but you have never been frightening.”

  He abruptly stepped closer. She almost jumped out of her skin.

  He laughed quietly. “See?”

  She stood her ground, facing him down almost nose-to-nose. “Startled is not the same as frightened, Lord Easterbrook.”

  “You would never have sought me out here in London, because you were relieved that I had to leave Macao. You could not get me on that ship fast enough.”

  “There was no choice but to get you on that ship, or have you forgotten that?”

  “There was unfinished business between us, and you were not sorry to escape the reckoning. You were too innocent and unawake to understand that you wanted me as much as I wanted you.”

  “You are wrong, but that is all in the past anyway. I am no longer an ignorant girl, and you are no longer Edmund. Those two differences change everything.”

  “Actually, Leona, I have learned since entering this chamber that time, place and names change some things not at all.”

  No, they did not. Damn it. Damn him.

  He loomed over her, close enough to subtly dominate her. Near enough that he might hear the stunning way her heart beat.

  The hard curve of his mouth matched the arrogant confidence in his eyes. He could tell that she was too much affected by him. He knew that he could still turn her into the nineteen-year-old girl who was promised to a fiancé who did not excite her nearly as much as the handsome stranger taking hospitality in her father's home.

  However, one thing had changed. As a woman, she understood his appeal in ways the girl had not. She recognized her response to his mysterious allure for the sexual arousal that it was. She worried that he knew that too.

  She tried to move away. He caught her arm, stopping her. He pulled her toward him. His boldness stunned her.

  His hand touched her face, commanding her to be still. His gaze demanded obedience. Her thoughts spun into incoherent objections when he tilted her head back.

  His warm, dry lips touched hers and lingered, then began proving that he could still mesmerize her.

  Warmth. Intimacy so immediate and deep that it seemed unnatural. Sly, sensual shivers and expanding wonder and astonishment. The years fell away, and she was being kissed for the first time ever by a reckless young man with a dark, chaotic spirit—a dangerous man who offered adventures of the body and heart that she dared not accept.

  The kiss banished suspicions while it lasted. Youthful emotions refreshed her like a coastal breeze. Arousal tingled at her breasts and tightened her womb and teased one devilish spot very low in her body. Low, long waves of pleasure lapped through her.

  She restrained herself from showing how powerfully he stirred her. One sigh or gasp and they would probably end up on that apple-green bed. She did not fight him, however. The sensations so stimulated her that she lacked the strength for that.

  “You are an enigma, Leona,” he muttered. His hand remained on her cheek and his breath warmed her ear. “You always were. Perhaps that is the fascination.”

  “We all are enigmas to each other, I suppose.”

  “Very few people are to me.”

  She gently lifted his hand off her arm. She stepped away and pulled her composure together.

  “Lord Easterbrook, since you arranged this unexpected reunion, perhaps you will agree to aid me in my mission. Out of sentiment for our old friendship in Macao, that is.”

  He scowled at the way she picked up the threads of their conversation, as if nothing of note had just happened. “That depends on the kind of aid that you request, Leona.”

  “I would like to be introduced to your brother, Lord Hayden Rothwell.” “What do you want with Hayden?” “I have been told that he is likely to know the traders and investors whom I came to London to meet.” He shrugged, as if bored by such a simple petition. “I will arrange for you to meet him if you wish.”

  “That is kind of you. I am very grateful. Now, while seeing old friends is always pleasant, this unexpected visit has delayed my day's plans. Am I allowed to leave? Are we done?”

  His attention sharpened on her. He did not care for the way she dismissed the meeting, and him. “We are nowhere near done, Leona.”

  “To my mind we are entirely done, Lord Easterbrook. Please accept my decision about that.”

  A tense silence passed, no more than ten seconds, she guessed. In that brief span he appeared to be making a decision. Their intimate surroundings, the bed and pillows and sensual fabrics, ceased being mere background and turned into visual arguments for why it would be pleasant not to be entirely done after all.

  She wished that she could summon anger or outrage or pride to shore up her defenses. She wished she could claim that the kiss had not tempted her. In truth, a little whirlwind spun in her heart now, and her body ached from the intense desire pulling between them with tantalizing tugs.

  “You were always allowed to leave,” he finally said. “There is no guard outside the door.”

  “I will continue with my afternoon's excursion, then. Good day to you, Lord Easterbrook.”

  She grabbed her bonnet and strode to the door on legs that barely allowed her to walk.

  “Leona.”

  His quiet address stopped her after she had opened the door. The resonance of his tone sent a treacherous thrill down the center of her body.

  “Leona, it appears that you are n
o longer so innocent and unawake.”

  She looked back at him. He was far too dashing in his shirtsleeves and open collar and high boots. Stronger than she remembered. More arrogant too. There had been poignant moments when Edmund was vulnerable in ways that she suspected Easterbrook never was.

  “That is a peculiar farewell, Lord Easterbrook. Maybe I will run and hide like you predicted.”

  “I am not worried about that. Your missions will keep you nearby. And this time, Leona, before any ship takes one of us away, I will have you.”

  BY ARRANGEMENT

  A Bantam Book / June 2000

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2000 by Madeline Hunter

  Front cover art copyright © 2000 by Alan Ayers

  Back cover art copyright © 2000 by Franco Accornero

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  eISBN: 978-0-307-48261-7

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