A Persistant Attraction (6 page)

How could he have known she would respond so ardently? She’d been an active party in the kiss they’d shared at Mark’s wedding, but she responded to it like an innocent young woman whose passion had hardly awakened. Her response last night had been more like that of a courtesan, one men would go into debt to spend a single night with.

He did not doubt her innocence, but her reaction—God, the way she’d rubbed her body against his at just the right angle to make him throb painfully—had taken his breath.

If that was her instinctive response to a “real” kiss, what would she be like after a few nights in his bed?

He dropped his head into his hands. Now he needed another cold bath. In fact, a dunk into a frozen lake would be best.

He had to find a way to get some sleep and then…what? The right thing was to attempt once again to call on her, apologize for his previous behavior. But he couldn’t

very well apologize and then confess to being her rescuer, not after the liberties he’d taken. It would make his apology seem hollow at best. Perhaps he shouldn’t see her at all.

“Coward,” he said with disgust.

So he was a stinking coward. At least if he didn’t see her, he wouldn’t kiss her again.

Besides, he needed more time to investigate the men who’d attacked her. The two who hadn’t run had died before he could question them, but he’d sent his accomplices to track down the others.

One advantage of having worked for Farrington was a solid network of contacts that could be of great assistance to him now. If he used his experience at the agency to save Amanda, maybe some of the past years’ pain would be redeemed.

*

Warm hands slid along her shoulders, slipping under the silk of her nightgown and parting it easily. She gasped and opened her eyes, expecting to see the mysterious man who’d rescued her. Instead, Rhys’s intense blue eyes stared back at her. For some reason, she wasn’t surprised. Of their own accord, her hands reached up to twine in his coal-black curls. Her lips parted as his mouth descended toward them.

The slick warmth of his tongue caressed the roof of her mouth. She realized that his full length was stretched across hers, bearing her down into the mattress. She should push him away and stop this madness, but she couldn’t. Her mind felt hazy, clouded by sleep and the need for something she couldn’t quite describe.

Instead of trying to escape, she arched against him, moaning as his mouth moved to torment the skin of her throat. His teeth sank into her, nipping hard enough to cause slight pain before his tongue soothed her.

Her hands slid from his hair to move across his back. She could have sworn a shirt had covered the hard muscles there just moments ago. Now his skin was naked to her touch.

His hands cupped her breasts. When he pinched one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, she arched off the bed, stifling a scream. Never had she felt such

intense sensation, but the feeling was immediately surpassed when he took her other nipple between his lips and suckled it.

She writhed against him. Sensations she couldn’t control built. She felt hot. Needy.

She couldn’t stop now if her life depended on it.

Her gown had disappeared along with Rhys’s breeches. His hard shaft pressed against her thigh, and her legs parted without a second thought. He moved over her until she felt him brush against the softness between her legs. He paused.

She arched her hips toward him. “Please.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as he moved forward, steeling herself for the pain she thought would come when he entered her. When she reached up to grip his arms, she found only air. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up, looking around frantically.

There was no one in her room. She glanced down. Her body was still covered by her demure nightdress. A dream. Only the sheen of sweat coating her body and the dampness between her thighs were real.

On wobbly legs, she crossed the room to open a window, letting in some air which she feared would do little to cool the fire in her body. Purple-tinged clouds lay low on the horizon. She’d slept only a few hours at best, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest any more.

She removed the false bottom of her jewelry box and took out a small key. She used it to open a chest she kept at the bottom of her wardrobe. She pulled a book from the chest, one a friend of her cousin had left behind after staying at her father’s estate.

She sat on her bed and opened it. As always, the pictures inside made her feel warm and uncomfortable, like she couldn’t sit still. As she looked at the drawings of men and women engaged in various acts of pleasure, she saw herself and Rhys in their place. She turned to one where a man had his lips locked around a woman’s nipple. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open in a scream.

Amanda’s heartbeat accelerated. Would Rhys’s lips really feel as good on her breasts as they had in her dream?

With a sigh, she forced herself to close the book. What was she thinking? She couldn’t really give him her virtue as she’d been so willing to do in her dream. Or could she?

She’d never been interested in playing by society’s rules. She didn’t see marriage and family in her future, because she had no intention of surrendering her freedom to a man. She knew there were
ton
marriages based on love, like her sister’s, but most were uneasy alliances with the wife suffering far more than the husband.

If she didn’t intend to marry why should she concern herself with preserving her virginity? Why not explore what her body wanted so desperately? Rhys was the perfect choice for a partner. He was handsome. She desired him, and he was unlikely to be struck with a crisis of conscience after deflowering her.

She returned the book to its hiding place. If she accepted Rhys’s proposition, she could have the help she needed to protect herself and her family, and she would learn what truly went on between a man and woman. She knew there were secrets even Cassandra had not revealed to her.

But if she sought Rhys out as she intended, she would be playing a dangerous game.

She cared for him, more than she wanted to admit. She was willing to give him her body, but her heart was her own. Could she keep herself from falling in love?

*

Later that day, Amanda sat in the morning room with Elise, pretending to work on some embroidery though she hadn’t completed a single stitch. Her stomach had tied itself in knots, and nothing could slow the rate of her heart.

As she contemplated whether she truly had the nerve to seek out Rhys again, her maid, Caitlin, entered. “I’ve brought the mail, Miss Amanda, Miss Elise.”

“Thank you.” Amanda tried to keep her hand from shaking as she reached out to take her letters.

She flipped through them quickly while Elise did the same with her stack. One from Cassandra. One from Louisa, a girl she’d gone to school with. One from their cousin William. Nothing new from her attacker.

She wished she could believe the man had tried, failed and given up, but she knew better. Chances were another attempt would be made on her life that very night. She had to make certain it wouldn’t succeed, and the best way to do that was to accept Rhys’s proposal and enlist his assistance.

Of course she wasn’t certain he’d make an appearance at the ball she’d promised Elise they would attend. He rarely appeared at
ton
functions, but this ball was being given by his uncle. Based on what she’d heard, Rhys rarely turned down the opportunity to show up at family affairs and thumb his nose at the family who chose to ignore him. Rhys was rumored to be a successful businessman in his own right and to have turned down the offer of whatever piddling inheritance would come to a third son.

Amanda retired to her room after lunch, pretending to need rest but really needing to be alone. Her nerves were too frazzled for her to continue making conversation with her aunt or sister. She tried to write Cassandra, but she felt dishonest omitting the events of the past few days. She put her pen down and gave up.

Her attempts to read also failed. Finally, the previous night of excitement took its toll, and she fell into an exhausted sleep. When she woke, she asked for a tea tray and began to prepare for the ball.

Normally, she spent far less time than most young women on such preparation. But tonight was different. Tonight she planned to give a man permission to seduce her. The idea both terrified and exhilarated her.

As she stood in front of her wardrobe, debating between her best three dresses, she wondered whether her choice truly mattered. Apparently, Rhys found her attractive even when she dressed as a boy. Nevertheless, she couldn’t leave anything to chance. She intended to look like a woman a man would want to seduce.

Ultimately, she chose a lavender silk she’d not yet worn. The dress was more daring than the rest of her wardrobe, but the last time they’d gone shopping, Elise had seen the

pattern and insisted Amanda have one made for herself. Amanda knew her eyes were her best feature, and whenever she wore lavender, the gray of her eyes changed to match it.

When she’d laid out her gown, she called for Caitlin to help her dress and style her hair. An hour later, she looked in the mirror one last time. Her hair was twisted in a circlet atop her head, but several tendrils had been left to fall against her face. Caitlin had used an iron to curl the normally stick straight locks so they hung in soft twirls. They should have looked innocent, yet they didn’t, much like her simply cut diaphanous gown.

The square neckline was well within the bounds of propriety, but it still showed far more of the pale skin of her breasts than she was used to.

She smoothed her skirts and took a deep breath. She would not be the most beautiful woman at the ball, but she looked well enough to attract some attention. She added a single strand of pearls about her neck to match the ones twined in her hair and decided she was ready.

She met her sister and aunt in the foyer. Elise was wearing a pale yellow dress that showed off the deeper tones of her skin. She looked beautiful but so young. Amanda hoped Mr. Whittaker would take good care of her. She was sure the couple would spend much of the evening in each other’s company.

By the time the party arrived at Stanton House in Grosvenor Square, the fluttering in Amanda’s stomach had grown unbearable. What if the man who was after her got to her before she could find Rhys? What if she’d made him so angry the other night, he would no longer agree to help her? Of course, she had every right to react as she had. His offer was not one a gentleman would make.

When Amanda got through the receiving line, she began to look for Rhys. She doubted he would arrive for another hour or so, but she hoped she was wrong. Every minute he was absent from the room was another minute where she was the only one looking out for her safety.

She declined an offer to dance from a friend of Mr. Whittaker’s, insisting she needed to help her aunt get settled, but she encouraged Elise to join the dancers. She stood by her

aunt’s chair and managed to avoid any other offers. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she saw Rhys enter.

His height and his midnight curls made him visible even from a distance. She excused herself to Aunt Claire and began to make her way around the perimeter of the room, hoping he would notice her. If not, she wasn’t sure what she would do. She wasn’t so wanton that she would publicly seek a man’s attention.

Of course, she had to pray he would not snub her. If he truly desired her as much as he pretended, then she could have confidence her choice of dress would hold his attention.

Rhys was deep in conversation with Farrington. If anyone passed by, they would hear nothing out of the ordinary, but with careful signals Rhys had learned years ago, Farrington managed to explain what the first step should be in seeking out the traitor who’d come to London.

Rhys had just communicated his understanding when he felt a shiver run down his spine, a sure signal that danger was near. He’d learned to heed such warnings long ago.

He turned to his right and saw Amanda.

At first he almost didn’t recognize her. He’d never seen her in a gown so stylish and alluring. She looked older and younger all at the same time. But most of all she looked welcoming. She actually smiled at him. What kind of game was she playing?

He returned the smile and let his eyes rake her body. Her expression didn’t change, and she didn’t back away. Something was definitely up. He looked at Farrington. The man had obviously noticed him staring at Amanda. “I’m a friend of her brother-in-law.” Farrington nodded.

“I hate to break off our conversation, but I should ask her to dance. She saw me notice her, and I wouldn’t want her to think me rude.”

“If you can’t lie any better than that, I’m not sending you back into the field no matter how much is at stake.” Farrington shook his head and walked off.

Rhys scowled at the man’s back before seeking out Amanda. She was standing by the ballroom door, pretending to be engrossed in a series of paintings hung on the wall of the vestibule leading to the library and drawing room.

He walked up and stood behind her, his body closer than was proper. Then he waited. He wanted to get a better understanding of her mood before he spoke.

She took a deep breath. He watched her breasts rise, straining against the thin fabric of her dress. Finally, she turned to face him.

“Beautiful aren’t they?” she asked.

He knew she meant the paintings, but he couldn’t resist looking down. “Yes, they are.”

He expected anger from her and a derisive comment. Instead, she ignored him. She looked down and twisted her hands together. “I didn’t know if you’d come tonight. You so rarely attend
ton
functions.”

She was fidgeting. Amanda never fidgeted. And she never gave up a chance to insult him either. He knew he should apologize to her as he’d tried to do before, but he was too curious not to let this scene play out.

“Are you implying you are relieved to find me here, or did you seek me out to tell me you can’t bear to be in the same room with me?”

“I didn’t seek you out.”