Page 35 of Taming Ivy
“Does it matter?” he murmured. “I’m here now.”
Sebastian could not explain this growing obsession. And reconciling that obsession with revenge was becoming a difficult task. He wanted her. With every loose thread of his soul, hecravedher.
This hunger, it was disturbing. Ivy’s smile entranced him. Those huge eyes of hers, the color of the sea on a summer day, made for drowning in. Some mornings he awoke with fingers tingling from dreams of stroking the petal softness of her cheek. Dammit, even her perfume intoxicated him. That curious mix of oranges and lilies possessed the power to tangle him into curious knots, leaving his mouth dry with lust. He thought about it at the oddest times.
Bringing both hands up to cradle her face, he used his tongue to trace the seam of her lips, waiting for them to part. When they did, he slid inside, gently exploring her mouth with long, slow sweeps until she gripped his forearms for support. She tasted of wildflower honey and lemonade. When he finally raised his head, the golden flecks in the depths of her eyes shimmered up at him like flashes of sunlight on the ocean. Intriguing how he could make her storm clouds dissipate with just a few simple kisses. It was knowledge he would use to full advantage.
He loved how her pulse pounded against the tips of his fingers. Like a tiny sparrow beating its wings, hopelessly captured in the cage of his palms. “You shouldn’t look at me like that.”
Breathless, Ivy leaned into him, hands braced against his chest, her face tilted to his. “Like what?” Chestnut curls tumbled to the indentation of her waist, and should he wrap his arms completely around her, those soft ringlets would tickle his hands.
“As if you wish to finish what we began that night…” The pulse at the base of Ivy’s throat leaped at the whispered suggestion and Sebastian smiled as he abruptly pulled her back into the sunlight.
Sara and Alan had returned to the path as well, laughing with one another. Not once did they glance back at their trailing chaperones.
Sebastian took Ivy’s hand, their fingers twining loosely. She blinked several times to regain her senses, stunned at being kissed in shady seclusion one moment to walking sedately in the sunshine the next. Small quivers revealed themselves in her fingers when his lips brushed across her knuckles in the softest of caresses.
Sebastian did not bother to hide a wolfish grin of satisfaction.
Ivy did not expect to find Sebastian’s circle of friends to be so kind and gracious, although a handful appeared genuinely confused by her attendance at Lord Bentley’s country party. It amazed her that all followed Sebastian’s lead without question. The subtle display of his powerful influence was proving every bit as advantageous as she hoped.
Following dinner, a spirited game of whist ensued, with gentlemen pitted against the ladies. Partnered with Sara, Ivy suspected Sebastian and Alan of throwing their hands more than once. She wished to seize his cards and reveal the truth, but that would be bad form.
Sebastian glanced up from his bourbon as if sensing her thoughts. “You are by far the better player, Lady Ivy.”
“If you believed that, you would play to win.” Ivy gestured at the cards. “It is beyond fantastical we bested you and Lord Bentley in the last five hands. You will not hurt our feelings by winning a hand or two.”
“Perhaps I am only lulling you into a false sense of security with a display of my incompetence before I take all.”
Sebastian’s eyes shone bright with something unknown. For a brief moment, Ivy wondered if she were being pacified into compliance in other matters. Her fingers tightened on the cards she still held.
“No need to mollycoddle us, Lord Ravenswood,” Sara said with an arched brow.
Ivy laid the cards down before she bent them beyond repair. “We could win, even if you play your best.”
“Is that so?” A grin of pure devilment crossed Sebastian’s features, his gaze never leaving hers. “I propose a wager to settle the matter.”
Laughter rippled in the wake of his comment, ears pricking at the mention of ‘wager.” The two smiling so pleasantly across the card table were players in the most well-known stakes in all of London.
Lady Burkestone piped in, conflicted if she was expected to stop something potentially scandalous. “I say, might this be a bit improper?”
Sebastian shot the woman a quelling glance. “Probably. By the way, Lady Burkestone, are you aware Lord Bentley’s chef concocts the most wondrous strawberry tarts this side of Paris? They really are a marvel. I understand they are on the menu for tomorrow and he always begins their preparation the night before. Something about the strawberries having to set properly…”
“You don’t say? How interesting.” Lady Burkestone rose from her chair, unable to resist the lure of the decadent treat. “I think I’ll run to the kitchens and have a peek. Our own cook has an absolute talent for ruining strawberry tarts. It’s quite awful, really. There must be a trick to the process I can make note of.”
When she was gone, Ivy shook her head at Sebastian. “Do you think this is wise? After all, you have no real knowledge of my skill at whist.”
“And you’ve no knowledge of my skill at winning wagers.”
“My lord, you are either very brave or very foolish. Perhaps both. So, tell me, what is your bet? It must be agreed to before it can be properly done.”
“A little thing to most, but I claim a kiss as my prize,” Sebastian’s smile was serene. Murmurs rumbled amongst the men while several ladies leaned forward to impart their most sincere advice on how to best lose the game.
Ivy had no intention of losing. Holding up a hand to halt any further words of encouragement to that end, she considered the earl. “A kissandmy ruined reputation? It is far too steep for a simple game of whist. When I win, what prize shall I claim?”
“Why, naturally, a kiss. Would any of you consider less?” Addressing the ladies, Sebastian garnered a round of emphatic headshakes and vows to the contrary.
Ivy laughed in amused disbelief at his audacious statement. “No matter who wins, you emerge the victor while I’m left with a reputation in tatters.”
