A Reckless Encounter

“Miss St. Clair,” he drawled, “you do waltz, as I recall.”

“I do, my lord.”

She gave a small gasp when he gripped her hand a bit too tightly. It was time he let her know that he had no intention of being maneuvered, either by her or by Katherine—who would definitely pay later for her malice.

“You needn’t have gone to so much trouble, Miss St. Clair,” he said softly as he swung her into the pattern of the waltz. “I would have been glad to play your game as long as it’s done by my rules.”

“Then it would be your game, my lord,” she replied, unperturbed, her arm held stiffly to keep him at a proper distance. “My rules are more negotiable.”

Lemon verbena was a faint, teasing fragrance that radiated upward as he held her lightly, his hand pressed against her upper back. Christ, the gown revealed every sleek line and curve of her body. It wasn’t a dress, it was a proposition. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Do your rules include seduction, Miss St. Clair?”

Her head tilted as she looked up at him. Lamplight glittered on the rich lustre of rubies nestled in the curls piled artfully atop her head.

“A presumptuous question, my lord.”

“I prefer to think it astute. You’ve set a trap for someone tonight.”

“Have I? Perhaps you’re right. But if so, why would I be so foolish as to confide in you?”

Celia St. Clair turned gracefully in the steps of the dance, a movement that brought her even closer, the swoosh of her skirts a crimson and gold complement to her cool blond beauty. Her flowery fragrance was delicate and arousing. He was tempted to scoop her into his arms and carry her from the ballroom to the nearest bed.

As her lashes lifted and she tilted her head to gaze up into his eyes, temptation coalesced into firm resolve. She played a game with the wrong man. Someone should have warned her.

The lilting melody of a waltz caressed the air as he steered her smoothly toward an alcove at the far end of the wide ballroom. If she noticed she made no protest.

The music ended briefly just as they reached a curtained recess half-hidden by potted palms behind serving tables for the use of footmen—a private nook once the doors closed.

She gave him a startled glance when he swept her into the shadowed corner and shut the doors. “Sir! This is—”

“Now,” he said softly, cutting off her protest, “I’ll acquaint you with my rules. I think you must already be familiar with a few of them.” His arms shot out to imprison her when she tried to leave, trapping her with his hands against the wall, his body a hard force leaning against her. “Ladies who tempt men with fluttering lashes and scarlet gowns are either foolish, or not ladies. I can’t decide which you are, foolish with your big cat eyes and ingenuous chatter, or available as that dress suggests so eloquently. Which is it?”

“I—you are too forward, sir!”

“Oh, no, this is what you wanted, isn’t it? With your knowing glances and simpering sighs. It’s all been a ruse. I don’t know what your goal is, but I assure you that if it’s only an idle flirtation, I’m not in the mood. I take this sort of thing seriously, Miss St. Clair, so don’t tease the tiger unless you’re willing to risk the full consequences.”

Her chin tilted, mouth thinning into a taut line as her eyes glinted with anger. “You give yourself far too much credit, my lord! Do you think you’re so irresistible that all women must pursue you?”

“No, but by God I know when a woman makes herself available, and you’ve done everything but leap naked into my bed.”

“Your imagination is vivid, but quite mistaken. Let me go before I scream.”

“Scream. It will bring attention to the fact that you’ve been compromised. I imagine your cousin will be delighted by the scandal, while it won’t affect my already tarnished reputation. So do that, Miss St. Clair, scream and bring the entire room running to your aid.”

“You—you bastard!”

His lips curled into a sardonic smile. “Ah, that’s better. Now I see the real person instead of this mirage you’ve tried so hard to keep intact.”

Celia tried to twist free but he dropped his hands to her shoulders, fingers digging into bare skin to hold her. “Ah, no, it’s time to give you what you’ve been so prettily asking for, I think—or at least a preview of future interludes.”

Oh, he sounded so…so harsh! Her heart pounded fiercely as his mouth came down over hers with brutal force. His hand cupped behind her neck to hold her head still for his kiss though she offered no struggle. This kiss was different than the last. This was more like an invasion, an assault on her senses that was overpowering.

There was no gentleness in him as he held her pinned against the length of his body, his kiss savage and thorough and almost frightening. His tongue was in her mouth, a heated intrusion that left her lightheaded, with a pounding pulse loud in her ears.

The wall was unyielding behind her, his hard body a relentless pressure against her chest, belly and thighs. Oh God, his hand had moved to her breast, shaping it in his palm, fingers stroking in sly circles beneath the braided edge of her bodice, a riveting sensation that shot bolts of fire through her entire body.

What was he…? Oh, it was insane, but a strange heat seared her skin, quivered inside her, the stroke of his tongue in her mouth coaxing a response despite her intention of remaining coy and detached. How could she be detached when he did that with his hand, on so intimate a place!