To Distraction (Bastion Club 5)

He was ruthless, hard, determined beyond measure, and comprehensively used to getting his own way.

She might have avoided such exchanges as far as she’d been able, yet she knew enough not to be deceived. Closing her hand over his only confirmed that he, his body, was locked, held immobile beneath his steely will.

He was holding back all that she feared. It wasn’t that he didn’t wish to sweep her into his arms, that he didn’t want to crush her to him, to touch her body, her breasts, her bottom; he wanted all those things, but had sensed she didn’t, and he was strong enough—and for whatever reason had decided to be gallant enough—to check his own desires.

In pursuit of hers?

The thought drifted through her mind, a seduction all its own.

But the passion she sensed through her touch on his hand, while not a threat, was proof a threat could yet exist. She didn’t yet know if she was safe with him.

Reluctantly—she was surprised by how reluctantly—she drew back from the kiss. He hesitated, then let her break it, but he didn’t release her face.

She opened her eyes, blinking back into the world. Focusing on the darkened green of his eyes, she watched him search hers—and mentally scoffed at her earlier thought. Safe? With him? He was the epitome of unsafe, the type of man she knew could never be “safe,” not for her or any woman.

Yet…try as she might, she could sense no threat from him.

She frowned, sensing the question in his mind. “I don’t know…” He confused her as no man ever had.

His gaze sharpened. “Why don’t we take this one step at a time, and see where the path leads us?”

He was, quite clearly, speaking of indulging in an affair, but was indicating he was willing to accommodate her as to the pace….

She would never, ever, get a better offer—a chance more to her taste, or more responsive to her needs.

From a man like him, it was a generous suggestion, one that would cost him far more than it would her, assuming he adhered to it. She knew in her heart she would regret saying no, could not say no—not yet.

“I…” She drew in a breath and took the plunge. “Yes. All right—but just one step at a time, and let’s see.”

His

gaze remained steady on hers, then his features softened in a smile. One that took on an almost rueful edge as he lowered his hands from her face, lightly stroking one cheek as he did.

“I’ve been waiting to kiss you since I first laid eyes on you.”

“In the library?” She wasn’t overly surprised.

“Yes.” He closed a hand about one of hers, engulfing it in warmth and hardness. “But if I’d acted then, I wouldn’t have stopped at just a kiss, not with the chaise there and no one else in the room.”

She tilted her head, greatly daring said, “There’s no one else here now.”

His gaze sharpened; he hesitated but then shook his head. “No, there isn’t, but there’s a time and place for all things, and this isn’t it.”

Deverell stepped back and drew her away from the tree. “Come—we should return. You’ll need to dress for dinner.”

And after turning down that last invitation—which had been no invitation but a test in disguise—he needed to take another walk.

To cool his ardor.

“Tell Jessica to meet me in the music room once everyone settles for the night.” Sitting before her dressing table, Phoebe glanced at Skinner in the mirror. “Tonight’s our musical evening. It will no doubt be boring in the extreme, but we may as well capitalize on it. If anyone sees Jessica downstairs later tonight, she can say Lady Moffat left her fan in the music room and she’s looking for it.”

“Aye, I’ll tell her. Though if the evening’s to be as boring as you say, I’m wondering why you’re insisting on wearing this.” Skinner lifted Phoebe’s peacock green silk gown from her second trunk and shook it out, then looked at Phoebe, her brows raised high.

Phoebe met her eyes briefly, then reached for her perfume. “Because I live in hope that the company will be more interesting than the entertainment.”

“Company, heh? Tall, dark, and handsome as sin—that company?”

“Any company,” Phoebe repressively replied, although Skinner was, of course, correct. She was dressing with more care because she knew Deverell would be present.