What You Promised (Anything for Love 4)

“Don’t you need to get a picture in your mind’s eye before you begin?”

From the way she touched her fingers to her collarbone, he could interpret her train of thought.

“A clear picture would be helpful. Perhaps you might spare some time to act as model and muse.”

A soft hum left her lips. “I have time now.” She reached for his hand and pulled him towards the door. “And I do so want to help you with your work.”

Chapter 18

A rapturous melody filled the air. On the dance floor, joy graced the faces of the couples as they twirled about the candlelit ballroom. Gentlemen huddled in groups, partook in rowdy banter, cheered and raised their glasses in salute. Feminine giggles and shrieks indicated the amorous activities were well underway.

As always, the mood was one of fun and frivolity.

Matthew stood near the doors to the terrace, jaw clenched, and watched Lord Boden descend the steps into the crowded room. With a raised chin and disdainful pout, the man possessed Satan’s arrogant air. Mr Parker-Brown scurried behind like an obedient disciple, inclining his head to those people Boden refused to acknowledge.

Since the fateful night at Lord Holbrook’s card game, Mr Justin Travant was nowhere to be seen. Rumour was he’d taken a trip abroad. Either the man was overcome with remorse for his deceitful ways and sought to escape with his reputation intact, or Boden feared Travant’s loose tongue and had forced him out of the country.

The rustling of silk behind him was accompanied by a soft, feminine sigh. Matthew swallowed a groan as he glanced over his shoulder.

“All alone and no one to play with?” Lucinda Pearce cast a sultry smile as she came to stand in front of him. One did not need to glance down to know that the bodice of her emerald-green gown barely covered her nipples.

“All alone and bored with your game.” He hoped his blunt manner conveyed his indifference. But Lucinda was a woman used to cutting remarks, and so she moistened her lips as a sign she welcomed the challenge.

“Then perhaps it’s time to change the rules. Perhaps you’ll find I’m a partner willing to adapt.” Miss Pearce breathed deeply and arched her back to better present her fleshy wares. “Or is your new toy still providing a modicum of entertainment.”

There was little point chastising her for her derogatory comment. She was immune to whip-like lashes of the tongue.

“New toys often become firm favourites, to where one couldn’t bear to play with anything else. In that regard, they’re irreplaceable, utterly unique, loved beyond measure.”

Had he said loved? He’d meant to say cherished.

Lucinda’s confident gaze faltered, but she quickly recovered. “There’s no need to pretend. I hear the croak in your voice when you speak of love. A man with your voracious appetite couldn’t possibly settle with one woman.”

A few weeks ago he might have agreed. But things were different now. Priscilla had penetrated his protective shield. If he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, he could feel her essence burning bright inside. It never left him.

“You assume I still hunger for meaningless conquests.” Lord, how had he found pleasure in such vacuous pursuits? “Perhaps I have found something more substantial to sate my craving. Perhaps such depth of fulfilment means I shall never feel famished again.”

Lucinda snorted. “I don’t believe a word of it.” The tip of her tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she placed her palm flat on his chest. “Why trot on a pony when you can gallop bareback on a stallion? We all know you like to ride hard.”

Matthew stepped back. “If you knew me at all, you would not have used that analogy. I hate horses and only use them when the need arises. And so I shall turn your question on its head. Why would a man want to ride a filthy, sweaty beast when he can ride in a clean, exquisitely made carriage?”

Miss Pearce found the decency to gasp.

“Now,” Matthew continued, “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of trading quips and avoiding direct answers. So, let me give it to you plainly. I am not interested in a liaison. The only woman I will ever bed is my wife.”

“You can’t be serious. What, you’

d not even be open to oral favours?”

Damn. Did the woman not understand the word no!

“Despite the reckless antics of many reprobates, I’ve yet to revoke a guest’s membership. Yours could well be the first. Find another gentleman to please. Your efforts are wasted on me. Are we clear?”

Lucinda sucked in her cheeks. “Crystal.”

Despite her nod of agreement, there was a look of determination about her countenance that suggested otherwise. Indeed, her exaggerated pout was that of a woman who always got her own way.

Equally intent on ruining his evening, Lord Boden sidled up beside them. “Ah, Chandler. I hate to spoil your little tête-à-tête, but I was wondering where I might find your wife.” A sly smirk was followed by a flash of disdain as he glanced briefly at Miss Pearce. “I can see you’re occupied, and as we have an hour until the card game begins, I thought Mrs Chandler might like to dance.”