The Magic of You

by Johanna Lindsey

  In those few moments he said not a word to her, but just as she inserted the key in the lock, his hands came to her shoulders. “You think I can’t?” he asked.

  “Can’t what?”

  “Resist you.”

  She was having trouble herself, resisting the urge to lean against him, so she stopped trying. And he didn’t push her away.

  “I think you’ll give it your best effort,” she said in a soft whisper.

  “And succeed.”

  “Care to bet on it?”

  She held her breath, awaiting his answer. It was fanciful, she knew, but she was sure he’d be sealing his fate if he took that bet, since she never lost a wager. But he disappointed her.

  “No, to bet on it would be to give it importance. This brazenness on your part has startled me, is all. But now that I know what to expect, I can ignore you.”

  She turned around before he could step back to avoid the press of her breasts against his chest. “Can you?” she asked seductively.

  He walked away. All right, so maybe he could—for a little while more.

  Chapter 17

  Amy shut the door and locked it, then leaned against it. She was smiling to herself, now that the danger was past. She’d managed to get inside the house without Warren at her heels, a small miracle that, as stubborn as he was. And she wasn’t sure which of her remarks had swayed him, though all that mattered was that Uncle James wasn’t going to be dragged from his bed tonight to listen to an accounting of all her sins. Another time, perhaps, but not tonight…

  “Is there a good reason why you’re coming through that door at this time of night?”

  Amy nearly dropped through the floor, she was so startled. And then the question registered and she blurted out, “Yes—no—can I think about it and tell you in the morning?”

  “Amy—”

  “I’m joking, for heaven’s sake,” she told Jeremy as she pushed herself away from the door, thankful it was he who had heard her come in, and not his father. “And what are you doing home so early?”

  He wasn’t lured by her attempt to change the subject. “Never mind that. Let’s have an answer from you, Cousin, and let’s have it now.”

  She made an impatient sound with her tongue as she brushed past him to enter the parlor. “If you must know, I had a secret rendezvous with a man I’m quite interested in.”

  “Already?”

  She turned to face him. “What do you mean, already?”

  He made himself comfortable leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, ankles crossed, a deceivingly casual stance their uncle Tony was quite fond of, and which Jeremy, who looked so much like him, was learning to perfect. “I mean, you just had your come-out last week. I suppose I didn’t think you’d follow in your sister Diana’s footsteps and choose quite so quickly.”

  She cocked a brow at him. “You thought I’d be like Clare, who took two years to make up her mind?”

  “Not that long, but a few months at least.”

  “I only said I was interested, Jeremy.”

  “Glad to hear it. So why the secrecy?”

  “Because I rather doubt the family will approve of him,” she admitted.

  Jeremy was about the only one she could say that to and not worry that he’d have a fit. And he grinned, likely in anticipation of the fits the rest of the family would have.

  “So who is he?”

  “None of your business,” she retorted.

  “Then I know him?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Do I?”

  “Quite likely.”

  “He’s not a complete bounder, is he? Afraid I’d have to object to that.”

  “He’s not a bounder at all. His morals are of the highest caliber.”

  Jeremy frowned. “Then what’s wrong with him?”

  Well, she’d tried to stick to the truth, or near it, but he just wasn’t going to let her. “He’s penniless,” was all she could think of at the moment to put her cousin off the track.

  “You’re right. That won’t do a’tall. Can’t have you running ’round in rags.”

  “Nor will I. He has prospects.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “He’s not comfortable with the idea of calling on me until his circumstances improve.”

  Jeremy nodded thoughtfully. “And you’ve been trying to convince him that don’t matter?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Did you have to wallow around in the dirt to get your point across?”

  Amy blushed furiously at the sensual images that question brought to mind. “About all we did was walk around and talk. I’m afraid I tripped, more than once, in my inattention.”

  “He must be quite a clod not to have caught you—or did he trip, too?”

  Her blush got worse at his knowing look, and she snapped, “I’m still a blasted virgin, if that’s what you’re angling to hear.”

  He grinned unrepentantly. “Didn’t doubt it, dear girl. And he’d have to be a bloody ass if he didn’t try to kiss you, so you can stop all that blushing. I’m a firm believer in kissing, don’t you know.”

  She laughed. It was sometimes hard for her to remember, looking at him, that he was her age and would understand perfectly the unrestrained passions of youth. And since the subject had come up, now would be the perfect time to take advantage of his expertise to aid her own situation.

  “Now that you mention it,” she began casually as she removed her cloak and curled up on a corner of the sofa, “there’s a question I’ve been meaning to put to you, so come sit down and give me the benefit of your vast experience.”

  “Is this going to be painful?” he replied as he came over to join her.

  “Not a’tall, since it’s merely a question of the philosophical sort. Anyone else I might ask would probably be too embarrassed to answer, but certainly not you.”

  “I’m bloody well not going to tell you how to make love,” he warned indignantly.

  Amy chuckled. “Now that would hardly be philosophical, but quite pertinent to my future, wouldn’t it? No, all I’d like to know is what a woman would have to do, Jeremy, to make you want her, when you have it set firmly in your mind that you can’t have her.”

  “She’s not comely, then?”

  “Let’s assume she’s quite comely.”

  “Then there’s no problem.”

  “Yes, there is. You’ve decided, for some absurd reason that only a man could come up with, that you can’t touch her.”

  “What kind of reason?”

  “How should I know? Perhaps it’s a matter of honor, or say she’s your best friend’s sister, or something like that.”

  “Well, hell’s bells, I don’t think that would stop me.”

  “Jeremy,” she said in exasperation, “this is just a suppose. Whatever the reason, you refuse to have anything to do with her. So what would she have to do to get you to change your mind?”

  “It wouldn’t take much, Amy, to get me to change my mind.”

  She had to laugh at his expression. “No, I don’t suppose it would. But let’s suspend for a moment the fact that you’re available to one and all of the female population. This is the only situation that is an exception to your normal mode of doing things. You are not going to touch this lady. You absolutely refuse to make love to her, even though, deep down, you’d like nothing better.”

  “Well, I should hope so.”

  “So what can she do to make you forget about your scruples?”

  “Drop her clothes.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “She can strip down in front of me. I really don’t think I could resist that, if she’s as comely as you say.”

  Amy was surprised. “That’s all it would take?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She sighed. She was afraid she’d asked the wrong person. Jeremy, young as he was, just didn’t have the kind of resolve and willpower that Warren did.

  “Now tell me why you wa
nted to know.”

  Amy sighed again, dramatically. “Why else? That fellow I’m interested in absolutely refuses to make love to me without benefit of marriage.”

  “What?”

  She patted his arm as she said reassuringly, “That was a joke, Jeremy.”

  “In poor taste,” he grouched.

  She grinned. “You wouldn’t say so if you could have seen your expression.”

  He still wasn’t mollified. “So what’s the correct answer?”

  She was hoping he would have forgotten the question, but since he hadn’t, she brazened it out. “Now who’s joking? Or are you going to tell me you don’t remember how curious you were about these things before you had all the answers?”

  Since he couldn’t recall such a time, having been brought up in a tavern, he chose not to answer. “So you were merely curious?”

  “Avidly,” she said, and gave him a wicked grin. “And while we’re at it, care to reconsider and discuss lovemaking in detail?”

  “Not bloody likely. So he’s holding out, is he?”

  “Who?”

  “Your gentleman.”

  “I didn’t say it was him.”

  “You didn’t have to. Smart man, to be so prudent.”

  “I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it means.”

  “Now don’t eat me,” he said of her glowering expression. “What do I care if you want to have the babe before the vows? It’s not me who’ll be calling the chap out for it.”

  “My father wouldn’t—”

  “’Course he wouldn’t. He’s got two younger brothers who just love to see to that sort of thing. You’ll be lucky if there’s anything left of the chap to wed.”

  Amy closed her eyes with a groan. It was just like Jeremy to get his point across like that. But he didn’t know the real situation, nor was she going to tell him, since he’d have a lot more to say if he knew that her gentleman was a man his father positively detested and the family barely tolerated.

  He had a good point, yes, and one she hadn’t had time to consider, her decision having been made so abruptly. But a possible pregnancy wasn’t going to change her mind about making love with Warren, at least not until she could think of some other way to hurry things along. The risk, however, did require better odds in her favor, and she knew just how to get them.

  “Care to make a wager, Jeremy?”

  His look turned instantly suspicious. “What kind of wager?”

  “If I decide I want him, I can get him without his being forced to marry me.”

  “I thought you were only interested.”

  “I did say if I decide he’s the one.”

  “All right, you’re on, but I have to make it worth your while to stay out of his bed. If you lose, you can’t marry him.”

  Her eyes flared. If she lost, she’d be pregnant, and she couldn’t marry him?

  “That’s—that’s—”

  “Take it or leave it,” he said smugly.

  “Very well,” she said just as smugly. “And if I win, you won’t touch a woman for—”

  He sat bolt upright, his expression appalled. “Be nice and remember I’m your favorite cousin.”

  “One month.”

  “One whole month?”

  “I was going to say six—”

  “One it is.” He sighed, but it was only a moment before he was grinning quite devilishly. “Well, I’ve done my good deed for the day.”

  Amy grinned right back at him. “Yes, you have. You’ve assured I’ll get him—if I want him—because I’ve never lost a wager in my life.”

  Chapter 18

  Amy got her wish, though she didn’t know it. Warren did go to bed that night thinking only of her, as she’d hoped. A few of those thoughts might have been murderous, but considering the discomfort he was still in, that was to be expected. And he went to bed quite alone.

  It still amazed him that, after he’d left her, he’d returned to his hotel on Piccadilly instead of to The Hell and Hound and the buxom Paulette. His inattention was to blame, he supposed, and the fact that he’d been fuming about letting the little chit talk him out of what he should have done, which was apprise her family of her scandalous behavior. But after he’d arrived at the Albany and recalled what was awaiting him across town, he’d still gone up to his room, instead of hailing another hack.

  Granted, the hour was late by the time he finally got back to his hotel. And he and his brothers had business to attend to early the next day. But when had that ever stopped him from finding a woman if the need was upon him? And the need was most definitely upon him, and had been ever since that morning and that first kiss. But he’d had every intention of relieving it tonight. He hadn’t let the exasperating girl get to him then. He’d warned her off and thought that would be the end of it. How little he knew about English tenacity. And that had been before he’d nearly made love to Amy Malory in the middle of a country road.

  He still couldn’t believe he’d done that, and wished to hell he hadn’t. He’d forgotten about the joys of pure lust, the heightened senses, the driving force, the incredible pleasure. Too long he had been coldly methodical in his seductions, almost indifferent, merely satisfying a purely basic need. Amy had drawn much more than that to the surface, and now Paulette just wasn’t enticing enough for him to make the effort. It was that simple.

  But he couldn’t go through another day like today, experiencing desire that strong and not satisfying it. All because of the whims of a seventeen-year-old. Christ! How was it possible someone that young could manipulate him like that, pulling all the right strings in each of their encounters? She was no more than a promiscuous minx. Obviously, she had discovered sex and found it too pleasurable to ignore, and, as young people would do, was gorging herself on it. He was no more than a challenge to her, probably the first man ever to turn her down. That was all it was, and for that she’d put him through hell. He should have spoken to James Malory. How had he let her talk him out of it?

  “You awake, big brother?” Drew asked as he came in and closed the door with a resounding thwack.

  “I am now.”

  Drew merely laughed at Warren’s disgruntled tone. “Didn’t think to find you back yet. You must have gotten your fill early in the evening.”

  If only he had, he could have withstood Amy’s later temptations. And he had to wonder, if he hadn’t been sharing a room with Drew because the hotel was temporarily filled to capacity, would he have given in and brought Amy here tonight? It was a chilling thought. Was his will that weak? Or was her lure that strong?

  The girl was trouble no matter how he looked at it, and he had to put an immediate stop to it. She was his sister’s niece, for Christ’s sake. She was a Malory. She was barely out of the schoolroom. The fact that she was practicing the same debauchery as two of her uncles once had—hell, he might as well call a spade a spade; she was on her way to becoming a female rake—was entirely beside the point.

  If she wanted to pass out her favors to the general public, that was her business, but he wasn’t going to contribute to her downfall. She’d get pregnant eventually and probably wouldn’t even be able to name the father. But some dumb bastard who had fallen for her game was going to get stuck owning up to it, and that person wasn’t going to be him.

  And she didn’t really want to get married and end her fun. That was probably a ruse just meant to flatter, since she was so incredibly beautiful. But she had proved tonight how opposed she was to marriage when she had done everything possible to hide herself from Lady Beecham.

  He should be relieved. He was relieved. But that didn’t end his problem. As enticing as the girl was, as much as he might want her, he wasn’t going to be drawn into her sensual trap.

  “You know,” Drew continued as he wrestled off his boots on the other side of the large bed they were sharing, “despite our numerous complaints against this country, you have to say one thing for the English. They’ve got one hell of an accommodating town in merry
old London. Whatever excitement you’re after can be found right here. Why, they’ve got vices I’ve never even heard of.”

  “I take it you enjoyed yourself tonight?” Warren said dryly.

  “‘Enjoy’ doesn’t half describe it. Boyd and I met this luscious—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Drew.”

  “But she was exceptional for the price in the way of talent, and pretty besides, with the loveliest black hair and blue eyes. Reminded me of Amy Malory, though she wasn’t as pretty as our fair Amy.”

  “Why the devil do you mention her?”

  Drew shrugged, unaware that his brother had gone stiff behind him. “Now that you mention it—”

  “You mentioned it.”

  “Whatever—I’ve had that sweet thing on my mind quite a bit since seeing her again.”

  “So get her off your mind,” Warren gritted out. “She’s too young, even for you.”

  “The hell she is,” Drew disagreed, still unaware of the dangerous currents he was stirring up. “But she’s the type you’d have to marry, and that’s not my type. Still”—he sighed quite regretfully—“she makes me almost wish I were ready to settle down.”

  Warren had heard enough. “Go to bed! And if you snore tonight, I’m going to smother you with your pillow.”

  Drew cast a surprised look over his shoulder. “Well, aren’t you in a swell dandy mood. Just my luck to get stuck sharing a room with the family grouch.”

  It was the last provocation Warren could stomach for a day filled with them. He came up swinging. Drew ended up sprawled on the floor. He lay there for a moment, fingering his cheek, then lifted his head so he could see his older brother, still sitting in the bed.

  “So that’s what you missed out on,” Drew said, as if Warren’s testy mood were perfectly understandable now. He chuckled as he pushed himself up to his feet. “Well, come on, then, I’m game.”

  Warren didn’t need any further coaxing, Five minutes later, they’d added a few extra charges to the hotel room in the breakage of one chair and the bed frame. Clinton would not be pleased, since he frowned on Warren’s propensity toward brawling. Drew didn’t care one way or the other, always happy to participate in Warren’s favorite form of exercise, and his black eye wouldn’t hinder him, since he wasn’t actively trying to seduce any of London’s young lovelies.