Page 33 of The Paid Companion

“Rubbish. I tell you, St. Merryn is as cold as the sea. That is why he did not give chase that night. And that is why I am certain that whatever else it is, this new betrothal is no love match.”

Arthur looked down and saw that Elenora was still listening closely to the couple’s conversation. He could not, however, discern from her expression just what she was thinking. For some reason, that worried him.

“My dear Constance,” Dunmere said slyly, “it sounds as though you learned the lesson concerning St. Merryn’s cold nature the hard way. What happened? Did you attempt to make him the target of one of your charming seductions only to have him decline the offer of your very inviting bed?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Constance snapped quickly. “I have no personal interest in St. Merryn. I am merely relating what everyone knows to be the truth. Any man who would play cards at his club while his bride-to-be was carried off by her lover lacks feeling. He would, therefore, be incapable of falling in love.”

Constance and Dunmere had almost reached the end of the hedge. In another moment or two they would round the corner. Arthur wondered if there was time to get Elenora out of sight behind the far end of the hedge.

Before he could signal his intentions, she leaped to her feet. His first thought was that she was about to flee from the impending encounter with the gossiping pair.

He was stunned when she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him instead.

She put one hand behind his head, urging him closer.

“Kiss me,” she commanded in a breathless whisper.

Of course, he thought. How clever of her to realize that the best way to defuse the gossip was to be seen engaged in a passionate embrace. The lady was very quick-thinking.

He pulled her closer and covered her mouth with his own.

In the next instant he forgot all about the little play they were supposed to be staging. Heat, searing and dazzling in its intensity, swept through him.

He was vaguely aware of Constance’s startled gasp and Dunmere’s amused chuckle, but he ignored both in favor of deepening the kiss.

Elenora’s fingers tightened abruptly around his shoulders. He knew his sudden, fierce reaction had startled her. He slid one hand down her back to the place where the curve of her hips began. Very deliberately he pressed her into the intimate space created between his legs, one of which was still propped on the edge of the fountain.

The position allowed him to feel the softness of her stomach against his erection. A sweet, hot ache filled his lower body.

“Well, well, well,” Dunmere murmured. “It would seem that St. Merryn is not quite as cold as you believed, my dear Constance. Nor does Miss Lodge appear to be unduly terrified at the prospect of suffering a fate worse than death at his hands.”

13

Margaret settled into the cushioned seat of the carriage and smiled at Arthur with a hopeful air. “I think that went very well, don’t you, sir?”

Arthur lounged on the other side of the cab. The yellow glow of the interior lamps etched his face in shadow and mystery.

“Yes,” he said in his low, dark tones. But he was looking at Elenora, not at Margaret. “I think we all gave excellent performances tonight.”

A small shiver of apprehension or perhaps uncertainty went through Elenora. She concentrated very hard on the sight of the crowded streets and managed to avoid Arthur’s considering gaze.

She had intended that kiss in the garden to be nothing more than a convincing bit of fiction designed to quell the gossips. But she had lost control of the situation almost immediately.

She was still unable to comprehend what had happened. One moment she had been urging Arthur to embrace her for the sake of their small audience; the next she had been shocked and stirred all the way to her toes.

The kiss had left her flushed and strangely disoriented. Indeed, she was certain that if Arthur had not been holding her so tightly when Constance and Dunmere rounded the end of the hedge, she would have lost her balance. The back of her neck still tingled with an unnerving sense of awareness.

“You have got the distraction you wanted,” Margaret went on, cheerfully oblivious to the dangerous undercurrents shifting through the shadows of the carriage. “Everyone at the ball tonight was overcome with curiosity. I vow, the tongues wagged even faster after you two came back from taking the fresh air out on the terrace.”

“Really?” Elenora made herself say very vaguely.

“Yes, indeed,” Margaret assured. “I don’t know how you did it, but Mr. Fleming and I agreed that both of you managed to affect the appearance of two people who had just concluded a very ardent bit of lovemaking out there in the gardens. It was an astonishing piece of acting, I must say.”

Elenora dared not take her eyes off the night-shrouded streets “Mmm.”

“I was rather pleased with the results of that scene in the gardens, myself,” Arthur said, sounding for all the world like a hard-to-please theater critic.

Desperate to change the subject, Elenora summoned up a bright little smile for Margaret. “Did you enjoy the evening?”

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