Chapter 7

W hen she entered the drawing room, Holbrook was already rising from an armchair. He bowed and greeted her with a smile that tugged at her foolish heart. There was a warmth in his eyes that was almost enough to convince her she was the only woman in the world instead of just the only one here now.

She asked the footman to bring refreshments before moving farther into the room. Her heart was already racing when she lowered herself onto the end of the settee that was closest to his seat.

She clasped her hands together in her lap and tried to appear composed. It was more difficult than she would have imagined. "I'm pleased to see you, my lord. I hope you enjoyed the ball last night."

"I enjoyed the beginning. And our waltz, of course. But I'm afraid my enjoyment plummeted when I had to watch you dancing with every unmarried man in the room."

Good heavens, it appeared she wouldn't need to worry about how to discreetly bring up the subject of having an affair. But it was a relief to know she hadn't imagined his interest in her. He had been watching her. It was one thing to have Charlotte say as much, but it carried more weight coming from Holbrook himself.

She couldn't hide her amusement. "I seem to recall a fair number of young women there. And it was impossible to miss the way many of them were going out of their way to gain your attention."

He settled back into the armchair, his eyes focused on her. "There were other women there?"

She laughed. It was the sort of ridiculous flattery other men used, but for some reason she didn't mind it coming from Holbrook.

She took a deep breath in a vain attempt to settle her nerves. Until that moment, she hadn't been certain she was going to go forward with the crazy scheme. But there was something about Holbrook that set every one of her nerve endings on fire. It was a sensation so far outside anything she'd ever experienced, and she felt a bone-deep need to explore it further.

"Thank you for calling today, my lord."

His body was relaxed, but she could tell from the slight narrowing of his eyes that the effort to keep up that appearance cost him. Why hadn't she asked Charlotte for details about what she'd said to him last night?

"I was surprised to receive the invitation from the duchess."

"What did she tell you?"

There was a brief hesitation before he replied, as though he was considering his response. "She asked me about my intentions. She also led me to believe you'd agree to allow me to court you."

Ice settled over her along with a healthy measure of fear. Courtship? Was he actually here to court her? That was the last thing she wanted. She needed to correct his mistake immediately. "I'm not looking for another husband."

"The duchess?—"

He stopped when the footman returned with their tea tray, and Lucy was happy for the short reprieve. This was a disaster. She'd been very clear with Charlotte that she wouldn't marry again, so why would Holbrook think that's what she wanted?

Heat suffused her cheeks, but she ignored her embarrassment and asked him how he took his tea before pouring. It was ridiculous that she was more embarrassed by the idea that Holbrook might think she was searching for another husband than her real reason for wanting to see him today.

She handed him his cup, taking care that their ungloved hands wouldn't touch, before pouring her own. The footman had already left, but Holbrook waited for her to finish pouring her own tea before continuing.

"Your sister-in-law did say that."

She closed her eyes with relief. When she opened them again, he was watching her carefully. "So Charlotte didn't invite you here to court me. Thank heavens."

"If you're not looking for a husband, my lady, then why am I here?"

He was going to make her say it. Any other man would have already taken advantage of the opportunity provided by being alone with her and propositioned her. But it seemed she was intent on trying to tempt the one man who didn't want to have an affair with her.

She stood and made her way to the door. It occurred to her that she could flee the room, but there was no escaping now. She'd set things in motion last night when she told Charlotte she wanted to have an affair with this man, and that hadn't changed. If she didn't do this now, she might never again muster the courage.

So instead of running away, she closed the door and turned to face him. He'd risen from his chair but hadn't closed the distance between them.

"I thought that, perhaps, you might want to…" The words lodged in her throat, and she was unable to continue. Embarrassment swept through her, and she could feel her cheeks heat.

Slowly he stalked toward her, his gaze intent on her face. If she had an ounce of self-preservation, she would turn and escape. But she wanted this. She wanted him. And from the heat in his eyes, it was obvious he now knew why she'd invited him here.

"It seems we are at cross-purposes. I came here looking for a wife, but unless I'm mistaken, you're looking for a lover."

Her mouth was dry, and she had to swallow before she could continue. "Not just any lover. You."

One corner of his mouth tilted up, and she felt a corresponding smile spread over her face. "Just to be clear, I don't share."

Heat exploded through her. "Neither do I. Never again." Which was why she'd never remarry. Once wedding vows were spoken, her ability to leave would disappear.

"So the only thing you want from me is carnal pleasure?"

Yes, that was exactly what she wanted. But she found herself saying, "I'm not sure I'd use the word pleasure ."

He frowned. "You doubt my ability to bring you to completion?"

She could feel her cheeks heating. Never had she spoken aloud about lovemaking. She'd participated in the act with her husband, of course, but they'd never actually discussed the subject. Mansfield did what he wanted, and she lay there and allowed him his marital rights. Until she failed to give him a child, that is. After that, he took his pleasure elsewhere.

Yet Charlotte was very happy in her marriage. And from the brief comments she'd dropped into their conversations over the years—despite Lucy's protestations that she disliked hearing about what Charlotte got up to with her brother—it was very clear that Charlotte enjoyed their lovemaking.

She had to look away before confessing her deepest secret. But if she was hoping for a physical liaison with Holbrook, it was only fair that he knew the truth. "I think there might be something wrong with me."

Silence stretched between them, and she wanted to sink into the floor in mortification. She could just imagine the look on Holbrook's face. He'd be alarmed, perhaps disgusted. Whatever the exact emotion, he'd realize he was wasting his time with her. No doubt he thought she'd driven her husband into the beds of other women.

She expected him to make an excuse and leave. Instead, gentle fingers touched her chin and turned her face to him.

The heat of his fingers on her skin caused a deep yearning to spring to life within her, but she kept her eyes downcast.

The soft brush of his thumb across her lower lip shocked her. Her eyes widened and she stared at him. He didn't stop, his gaze focused on where he was touching her, but when she shivered, one corner of his mouth lifted. She was becoming very fond of that lopsided smile.

"There is nothing wrong with you. I suspect your husband never bothered to show you what was possible between a man and a woman."

She wanted to believe him. To believe that her dislike of the physical act of lovemaking was more a condemnation of Mansfield than a failing on her part.

She certainly liked the way Holbrook was looking at her now and how he was touching her. It was the lightest of caresses, but his touch caused a spark of desire that shocked her.

"Show me." The plea slipped out almost of its own volition, but she wouldn't pull away from him now. It seemed she was physically incapable of denying this man anything.

They stood in shadows, away from the light cast by the tall north-facing windows. His back blocked the waning afternoon light, and as he stared down at her, his eyes appeared almost black. Only the smallest amount of blue was visible.

His hand remained on her chin, lightly holding her in place as she waited, breathless. He lowered his face to hers, and she realized he was giving her time to change her mind. But Lucy wouldn't. She wanted his kiss with a desperation that surprised her. Even when Mansfield had courted her and she thought herself in love with him, she'd never felt this way.

She reached for Holbrook's wrist to hold him in place, intent on ensuring he wouldn't change his mind and pull away.

Heat flared in his eyes, and it seemed that her simple touch was the inducement he needed to bring his mouth to hers.

She expected him to ravage her mouth. It was always that way with her husband. He'd had two types of kisses. The first was a small peck, the lightest brush of his lips on the back of her hand or on her cheek when he was in the presence of friends and family. That was the public act he put on to show the world he was a devoted husband.

But in the private of her bedchamber, he fell on her with open-mouthed kisses that, thankfully, didn't last long before he got on with the business of thrusting into her.

There would be none of the latter now, of course, but Lucy was surprised that she was almost lightheaded with anticipation.

Holbrook's mouth touched hers with a lightness that frustrated her. It seemed he thought her worthy of only the polite type of kiss and he was going to pull away now.

But then his arms snaked around her and pressed her flush against his body.

The suddenness of the action caused her to gasp in surprise, which was all the encouragement Holbrook needed to kiss her in earnest.

Only he didn't plunge his tongue into her mouth. Instead, he traced her lower lip before dipping inside.

Instead of the disgust she'd felt when Mansfield kissed her, heat began to unfurl within her. A desperation to keep him there seized her, their mouths fused together in long, languorous kisses.

"Lucy."

Her name was uttered on a groan, and she very much liked the sound of it on his lips.

She didn't realize she'd speared her fingers into his hair until he lifted his head to stare down at her. His breath was coming in short pants, echoing her own.

Several long moments passed, and she could almost see the battle being waged within him. She was disappointed that this brief interlude was over far too soon.

She tore her gaze from his and lowered her hands to his shoulders. But she didn't release him. It seemed her traitorous body was unwilling to give up the fantasy that this man could give her something her husband never had. The carnal pleasure he'd promised her.

She licked her lips and kept her eyes lowered. "Thank you. That was quite nice." She was proud of the way she'd managed to keep her tone even.

His bark of laughter surprised her, and she looked up at him.

"Does it take so little to make you happy? To fulfill your desires?"

Her cheeks were already warm from their kiss, so at least she wouldn't suffer the indignity of letting him see the way his words embarrassed her.

Refusing to look away, she raised one shoulder in feigned disinterest. "It's been my experience that what comes next holds very little pleasure for the woman."

His brows drew together, and she wondered if she'd revealed too much. Never mind—she was no innocent. He knew she'd experienced what came next many times. There was nothing he could do or say that would shock her.

"Tell me, Lucy, are you one for wagers?"

He was too close, his expression too intense. And she was very aware of the way her body was still pressed against his. His manhood pushed into her abdomen, a telltale sign that he wanted her.

And for some insane reason, she wanted him too. She didn't know why. Whatever was happening between them was doomed to end in disappointment. Still, she couldn't deny that she was intrigued by the possibilities this man presented.

"That would depend on the wager, of course."

He lowered his head, and she thought he was going to kiss her again. A thrill of anticipation went through her. She quite liked his kisses.

Instead, his mouth skimmed across her cheek, stopping when he reached her ear.

"Did your husband ever bring you such mindless pleasure you were screaming out in ecstasy as you writhed in his arms?"

He was trying to unsettle her. Such a thing wasn't possible.

Or at least it wasn't possible for her. Still, his words called forth an unbearable longing to experience what he'd described.

He was staring down at her again, and she didn't know what to say. But it seemed words weren't needed. "I didn't think so."

Her throat was dry, but she didn't understand the reason. "What…" She had to lick her lips again before she could continue. She didn't miss the way his gaze settled on that small movement. "What is your wager?"

"You said you're not interested in marrying again."

"One kiss and an impressive amount of confidence is unlikely to change that."

His smile widened. "What if I can change your mind?"

Why did every man believe they were the answer to every woman's deepest desire?

Pushing down the traitorous inner voice that told her this one just might be correct, she pressed her lips together and arched against where his erection was still pressing into her. His small hiss told her she'd surprised him.

"I can tell that you're willing to try."

"You're a tempting little minx, do you know that?"

A thrill of pleasure streaked through her. He found her tempting? She had to know if he was playing with her, the same way Mansfield had tried to toy with her emotions before moving on to yet another paramour.

"I'm sure you say the same to all women. Is that enough to get them to let you have your way with them?"

"I won't pretend to be an innocent, but neither are you. I can assure you that no other woman has ever vexed me half as much."

"Because I'm not willing to fall into your bed with the crook of a finger?"

"Because your brother is going to kill me."

She couldn't hold back her laughter. It was true that Alex was being particularly overbearing when it came to the men who were sniffing around her. She'd seen him glaring at most of her dance partners last night, something for which she supposed she should be grateful. It meant no one had tried to drag her into another room during the ball to try his luck at forcing a seduction.

"What is your wager, my lord?"

He pulled back then, just enough to allow a few scant inches between their bodies. But her hands still rested on his shoulders, and his hands cupped her elbows.

"If I can bring you to release, you'll allow me to court you."

Her mind stuck on the second part of his statement. Shaking her head, she pulled away. To her relief, he let go of her immediately.

"I already told you I don't wish to marry again."

His hands hung loosely at his sides, but she could see the lines of tension in the way he held himself. A part of her expected him to yell at her now. It's what her husband would have done when he didn't get his way.

"I'm merely asking for the opportunity to court you. The decision about whether to accept me will lie solely with you."

Her heart was racing, but not because she was afraid of Holbrook. Her husband would have been yelling at her by now if she'd dared to defy him in such a manner. He would be hurling insults at her and belittling her.

The fact that Holbrook was giving her the power in this arrangement gave her pause.

She was no longer a young woman who'd be forced to marry because she'd been compromised. Widows—nay, even married women—took lovers with an alarmingly casual indifference, and no one seemed to care.

She could try this. She could allow this handsome, intriguing man to court her. But she was only now realizing that she hadn't heard the first part of his wager.

She straightened to her full height and clasped her hands at her waist as she faced him. "I'm afraid I heard nothing beyond your desire to court me. What was your wager?"

He held his arms behind his back, and she had the unsettling realization that he was holding himself in check so he wouldn't reach for her again. Despite the tension that was still visible in his body, she could see that he was amused by her.

"You will allow me to court you if I can bring you to release."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "You will release me?"