Wicked Becomes You(40)
She required a scandal to drive suitors away? He could be her scandal.
Chapter Seven
Alex’s eyes reflected the flicker of the lamp behind her. His mouth slipped into a half smile, but it looked unwilling, not true amusement. “All right,” he said calmly. “You’ve mastered immodesty. Now let’s aim for something a bit more sophisticated.”
Why, she thought, he was not misunderstanding her at all. He was only pretending to do so. A flush moved through her; instinctively she recognized that his descent into pretense spelled a triumph for her. “And what—” Her mouth had gone dry. She licked her lips, and as he glanced down to watch her tongue, his own mouth seemed to harden. “What if I asked you to kiss me again?”
His free hand rose, knuckles brushing lightly down her jaw. “An interesting approach,” he said. His thumb settled against her lower lip, exerting the slightest pressure. Her lips parted. She tasted the salt of his skin, and her entire body seemed to contract to the awareness of it. She leaned forward, instinctively, and touched the tip of her tongue to his thumb.
The breath hissed from him. He removed his hand and sat back. “Bit risky, though, for your first night of adventure.” His voice sounded strained.
“I am in the mood for risk,” she whispered.
His eyes narrowed. “I suggest something subtler.”
“I’m not playing,” she said.
He gripped her chin with sudden, startling firmness. “Better to play,” he said. “Between us, at least.”
She did not move, did not lower her eyes. “Why?”
He let out a breath that bordered on a laugh. “Surely I needn’t list all the reasons. You know me well enough. You think I have an interest in debutantes?”
“No,” she said. “But I am no longer a debutante.”
“There’s also the small matter of your brother.”
“Richard?” The name was like a slap. She sat back out of his grip. “What does he have to do with this?”
His eyes held hers, steady and unflinching. “If we’re not pretending,” he said, “then we must be speaking honestly, no? I told my sisters the full story of my quarrel with him the night he died. They must have told you.”
“Yes,” she said. “But he was wrong, of course—”
“Oh, you and I both know that. But we also know, then, what he wished for you—and what he most ardently did not wish.”
“Meaning you,” she said.
“Meaning anyone like me,” he said impatiently. “Richard knew me well. He knew you well. And while his alarm was mistaken, it would certainly have been justified, were his suspicions correct.”
“So you mean to say that I . . . disrespect his memory somehow? By asking you to kiss me?” The thought was outrageous. “Richard wanted me to be happy, Alex. That was all he wanted. And I’m pursuing my happiness, right here, now. If a scandal is what it requires, then surely he would prefer me to pursue one with you than with some no-name stranger!”
“I see,” he said at length. “You think to use me as your avenue to ruin, then?”
“You yourself said it: three million pounds.” Her voice sounded suddenly bitter. But what woman in the history of the world had ever had to justify her own seduction to convince a man like this to take advantage of her? It seemed so unjust. He must be trying to embarrass her. “It will take a great deal to undo my appeal. A man with your reputation would come in handy.”
His eyes narrowed. “How charming. To which aspect of my reputation do you refer?”
“Recall, we are being honest,” she bit out. “I refer to the fact that you are a well-known rake.”
“Ah, yes.” He sat back in his chair, smiling unpleasantly. In his hand he turned the beer glass back and forth, making the barest pause after each twirl, lending the movement a contemplative flavor. “It’s true, I suppose. And of all my accomplishments, I am of course flattered that you deign to find useful this one, oh-so-impressive achievement. But if it’s sex you want, there are several men in London who can’t keep their trousers up. No need to follow me to Paris for it.”
Her cheeks ached with the force of her blush. “Do not mock me,” she managed. “You have earned your reputation.”
“No, no, I don’t mock you,” he said soberly. “Indeed, as a businessman, I applaud your strategy; very economical, very thrifty. No doubt a mere brush against my coattails would blacken the halo of a saint. But you must forgive me if I have no interest in being used to suit your purposes. As you point out, I have a name to uphold, and falling victim to a virgin’s machinations would put me in very poor company.”