Page 19 of Taming Ivy
“I’m already glad… Sebastian.”
She blushed as she said his name, and despite himself, he found it captivating. Would she blush so prettily when he kissed her breasts, when his hands slipped between her legs? Sebastian wanted to crow with victory and just barely restrained himself. Right now, it was necessary to distance himself, before he threw her to the floor, took her right then and there...revenge be damned.
Stepping clear of the bench, he pulled her along and noticed her wince. “What is wrong?”
Ivy shook her head, tried pulling away but Sebastian rotated her wrists until her palms fell open.
“What the hell.” Gently, he traced the length of the pale pink scar. “How did this happen? Who did this to you?” Still holding her palm, he lifted her chin with his free hand. Sadness, guilt, and above all, an elusive glint of caution swirled in the aqua depths of her eyes. Sebastian's hand tightened. “I’d like an answer. Now.”
Wide-eyed at the sharpness of his tone, Ivy murmured, “Perhaps I’ll tell you someday, but it is an incident best forgotten. And already forgiven.”
Bloodlust churned within him. An overwhelming need to protect her swamped him. Was one of the Pack, as Society so courteously called her admirers, responsible for this? Which one was it? He’d smash the man’s face in; he’d slice him to ribbons; he’d—
The violence of his thoughts was astonishing.
Ivy sidled away from him with practiced proficiency. “Will I see you at the Quinn Ball tomorrow night, my lord? I shall save you a dance, should you care to have one.” The teasing was hesitant, a fragile attempt to draw attention away from her puzzling injury. “I’ll even remember my promise not to disappear when your back is turned.”
Sebastian considered her for a long moment before nodding in agreement. Soon enough, all her secrets would come to light. When it became apparent he would not pursue an answer, Ivy’s relief was instant, evident in the relaxing of her shoulders, the softening of her jaw.
“I will be there, butterfly, and I’ll expect a waltz.”
“You shall have one of your choosing.” Ivy gave him such a sweet smile, it made his stomach flip-flop. She made the business of seduction incredibly easy. Ignoring such delicate invitations was impossible.
Later that evening, Sebastian stepped into Brookes, intending to meet Alan there. He flipped with idle curiosity through the wager books positioned at the front of the exclusive club. Grimacing at some of the ridiculous bets, he turned to the first page of the latest book only to have his name jump out under the bold heading of“Taming the Countess.”
The original bet was thus:Five hundred pounds a newly returned earl ruins a certain countess before Season’s end.
Met in the following manner:One thousand pounds the prodigal earl gains only a broken heart and Poison Ivy emerges the unscathed victor.
Capping matters off in a magnificently grand gesture, an extraordinarily confident lord answered both wagers in an equally outrageous fashion and no subtlety whatsoever:Double that. Ravenswood shall accomplish the taming of Lady Ivy Kinley within three months’ time. Or die trying.
A muscle ticked along Sebastian’s jaw.
Bloody hell. They sat atop the lists.
CHAPTER 5
“Idon’t like it.” An anxious frown pulled Sara’s brows together.
“You shouldn’t frown so.” Ivy bit into a teacake. “You’ll wrinkle dreadfully.”
“Do not change the subject.” Sara replied, smoothing her brow. “You were desperate to escape him. Now, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Ivy shrugged. Sebastian’s unexpected olive branch of a truce tossed her into a tailspin of confusion and hope. There was no understanding his offer or her acceptance of it.
“Ravenswood wishes to be civil, and I see no reason not to try.” She recalled Sebastian’s arm pressing with indecent heaviness against her shoulder, the warm smile crinkling the corners of his beautiful gray eyes. The crispness of his scent had imprinted upon her. If she buried her face in his chest and breathed deeply of him, what would he have done? If she turned her face to his, would he have deepened the kiss he brushed across her lips? “I was ready to do battle. It would have been quite bloody, you know.”
“How you can take this so lightly?” Sara groaned. “He is not a man to be trifled with.”
Ivy traced the rim of her teacup with an index finger. “If the earl wishes to end the speculation and gossip, I shall assist him. Perhaps even Lady Garrett will forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive!” Sara’s teacup slammed onto a delicate saucer. “If she would only accept the fact her son was unnaturally obsessed and hopelessly addicted.”
“You believe I’m foolish to feel even the slightest responsibility. But, Sara, had I agreed to see Timothy, it might have prevented what occurred.”
“God knows what he might have done if given a second chance. When I think of that night, it makes me ill.” Lips pressed tight, Sara’s fingers entangled with Ivy’s as each recalled the incident. “What you have suffered since, what you’ve endured, I cannot bear how people whisper. If only they knew the truth. One day, I shall forget my promise to remain silent. And you will hate me for it.” It was a miserable prophecy.
Ivy squeezed Sara’s hand, her voice rising with excitement. “But Ravenswood is going to help in this! Oh, Sara, can’t you see? He can end this! I know it’s madness, but I find myself trusting him. Even after such a rocky introduction.” Disentangling their hands, she ran a finger across the scar on her palm. “He asked me about this. I was so nervous about him prowling Kinley Court, I completely forgot to wear my gloves.”
