She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “I could ask you the same. Everyone is looking at us.”
“Everyone is looking at them.” He lifted his chin, indicating Daphne through the palm fronds. She was sprinting toward the door in a passion, Wallingford in her wake. The room was captivated by the unfolding drama, much too captivated to notice Olivia and Adam. Adam’s gaze slid back to Olivia. “What were you and Wood discussing?”
“That is none of your concern.”
Something dark flickered in his eyes—jealousy, perhaps?
“That’s where you’re wrong, love.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Everything you do is my concern.”
Oh, this was too much! “Since when?”
His lips twisted into a smile. “Since I won you in a horserace.”
Her mouth nearly fell open. He couldn’t possibly be serious!
“You won my virtue.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Besides, you had your chance yesterday, and you didn’t take it. Therefore, as I see it, my debt is paid.”
She moved to sweep past him triumphantly, but stopped short when his hand shot out and caught her by the waist. “Not so fast, love. The debt is indefinite, and until I’ve taken what’s mine, you won’t be giving it away to anyone else.” He looked at her queerly, suspiciously, tilting his head, narrowing his eyes. “Unless, of course…”
The way he tilted his head to the side, as though he were solving a perplexing riddle, couldn’t be good. “Unless what?”
“Curricle,” he said sharply, as though testing the word on his lips.
She blinked up at him, expecting him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she wondered if he might be waiting for an answer. “Curricle,” she repeated slowly.
He continued to gaze at her, intense, focused, as though she would utter something profound at any moment. Hands on her hips, she let out a breath and checked his pupils for…well, she wasn’t precisely certain what she was checking them for. Something alarming, surely. But they were clear, focused, utterly mesmerizing…
Remain focused, Olivia.
She shook herself mentally and reached up, running a hand through his thick, wavy hair, feeling for bumps or abrasions. “Have you hit your head recently?”
Head injuries were said to make people say strange, nonsensical things. Years ago, her uncle George had taken a fall, hit his head, and now insisted his wife was a goose named Matilda.
As she ran her fingers along his scalp, Adam’s clear, lucid eyes darkened with desire. He moaned, a low, throaty rumble that made her nipples pucker and tighten. A current of desire swept through her, hot and quick, like a jolt. She pulled her hands away abruptly.
He let out a breath. “No reaction to the word, then?”
“What word?” She blinked up at him. It took her half a second to realize what he was talking about. “Oh, no, no reaction whatsoever.” She paused. “Should I have a reaction?”
She’d never ridden in a curricle above twice in her life—once when her father had bought one—then promptly had to sell it to pay gambling debts. Then again with Lord Whitmore, right before the ruthless bee attack.
He shook his head and said something that sounded like “ridiculous” under his breath.
“Well, to answer your earlier question, I’m not giving anything away.” She glared at him. “To anyone. So you can happily be on your way.”
He stalked closer to her, causing her to retreat farther behind the palm. They were completely concealed from the rest of the guests now, which was sure to raise eyebrows. “Oh, yes you are, love. Mark my words, before the week is out, you will be begging for it.”
Olivia pursed her lips. “That’s where you are wrong, my lord. While I’m willing to concede your win, however undeserved, I will offer you this challenge—” When he opened his mouth to speak, she lifted her hand to stop him. He snapped his mouth shut. “If you can get me to ask for it—” no sense in defining what “it” was, they both knew— “Then my virtue is yours.”
She smiled, confident she’d never ask him to take her virtue. Two years ago, she’d been so close to giving him everything. Now, she was older, wiser, and knew better than to tempt disaster. “Another challenge,” he said flatly. “To win what is already mine.”
“You must admit, that race wasn’t entirely fair…” She shrugged. It would give her a chance to even the score, or at the very least, buy some time.
He leaned in, close enough for her to smell his expensive cologne and the musky male scent that was entirely his own. The air around them seemed charged somehow. Energy vibrated between them. Her eyes fluttered closed as his mouth slowly descended toward hers.