Page 59 of Taming Ivy
Crossing his arms because his hands now twitched with a lethal anger, Sebastian watched the men -no…not men - jackals -circling her. They gathered for the kill after playing with her for so many weeks. Beasts, all of them, and he was the pack leader who’d set them on her trail. Word of his return to London must have reached her by now and consummate predators, these men picked up on Ivy’s weakness, her heightened propensity for recklessness. They hunted her. Tonight, she would be their entertainment. And it would be too late to save her. Hell, she probably had no wish to be rescued. According to all rumors, she was quite content to be their prey.
Clayton brushed a soft kiss to the top of her shoulder. Ivy acknowledged the intimate caress with a confused half-smile and Sebastian’s tightly held temper reached combustion levels. A red haze of anger blinded him with such thoroughness he did not see Nick shouldering through the small group.
Nicholas’s hand closed with a proprietary firmness on Ivy’s elbow, an unreadable expression crossing his features. The man’s aloofness possessed a legendary status, so his intentions were a curious puzzle. Unless it was to his personal benefit, one should not expect his assistance. With a tendency to utilize tactics delicately subtle in nature, his brazen approach was shocking.
Should the countess accept his aid...well, Nicholas’ methods of repayment would prove much higher than she could afford.
“Some breathing room for the lady, gentlemen.” Nick’s words carried over the lilting sounds of the orchestra. By his tone he knew his order would be obeyed without question.
The men bristled, sensing their prey slipping through their fingers and into the hands of the soon to be titled Duke of Richeforte. Was it worth a challenge if he tried claiming the countess? He had never showed any interest in her before, other than a polite regard. Everyone knew he shunned the debutantes and virginal set as if all were afflicted with the French clap. But now, Ivy was damaged goods. Now, his jaded tastes found her worthy of attention and if Landon wanted her, none of them stood a chance in hell.
Nicholas’s lips quirked when Ivy half stumbled, half fell against him. The twin dimples flitting in both his cheeks apparently hypnotized her. She stared unblinkingly at the man. Nudging her upright, he kept the grip on her elbow. “Would you care for a turn around the terrace, Lady Kinley? For a bit of, ah, fresh air?” Without waiting for consent, he propelled her forward, detaching her from the group with expert precision. Claiming her for himself.
Sebastian’s vision clouded red, hands clenched even tighter, ready to smash, to destroy.
To kill.
Only to find he was saved from murder by the most unlikely of saviors.
“My dear Lady Kinley! My goodness, Lady Kinley! I’ve been searching for you everywhere. Have you ever seen so many people? It’s an absolute crush!”
Lady Veronica Wesley, a vision in lavender silk, her mouth stretched into a broad smile, jaw tilted in grim understanding, barreled into the group. Taking Ivy’s arm, she practically wrenched her from Nicholas’s grasp.
He relinquished Ivy without a single word. A familiar expression of bored amusement slipped over his fallen angel features, the glittering emerald eyes unreadable. It was something Sebastian always envied about his former friend…the uncanny ability to keep his emotions from being used as arsenal.
Ivy twisted, unable to focus on who tugged her away from the center of male attention. Squinting, her face pulled into a perplexed scowl. “Lady Wesley?”
“Yes, my dear! I had to discover who made this lovely gown for you. It’s quite stunning! The way the silk flows, these shiny strands. You simply must give me your dressmaker’s direction. Are the shoes made to match? And what a gorgeous display of diamonds! I vow they are fit for the queen. Were they a gift? Or, perhaps your mother’s? Now, she was a beautiful woman, wasn’t she…it’s said you resemble her a great deal.”
With a stream of distracting questions, Veronica maneuvered Ivy toward a set of doors leading to one of the many garden terraces. The jackals muttered in dissent. Their prey was in danger of being whisked out of reach. By a mere woman, no less. As a group, they trailed the two ladies, unwilling to allow Ivy to escape so easily.
Nicholas strolled in silence behind the clutch of men. Sebastian did not know what thoughts turned behind those cold eyes of his, but thank God, he no longer had Ivy in his grasp.
Every muscle in his body constricted and even Nick scowled with faint disgust when Clayton snagged Ivy’s arm in a vise-like grip. Veronica’s eyes widened before she burst into peals of laughter. She retained her hold, a tug of war looming, with the countess as the prize.
“Gentlemen, please. Lady Kinley and I only mean to step outside to discuss a few things. One can hardly carry on a private conversation in this din!” Veronica flashed a carefree smile at the grumbling men. It was a reminder how accommodating she could be if the terms were suitable. Years ago, she directed the same smile at Sebastian prior to the onset of several debauched nights. That was the night her bed proved too small to hold them and the two additional ladies she laughingly presented as a birthday gift. It was shortly after that he purchased the massive bed Lady Veronica Wesley enjoyed to this day.
“Will one of you be a dear and fetch some champagne? And when we return, we shall all continue our chat in a more private setting. Won’t that be nicer than this crowded ballroom?” Veronica’s suggestion was a sweet purr, the insinuated nuance of something so wicked and divine it left the men spellbound. The possibilities of such a tryst were incentive enough for Clayton to drop Ivy’s arm. He gave Veronica a sharp nod of compliance.
Nicholas March’s golden head tilted. Ivy and Veronica were each subjected to his cold calculation.
Sebastian’s guts tightened in horror. Every last one of these men would die if they dared…
There was only one reason to venture outside and this was to escape the crowd inside. Ivy had no particular interest in escaping. In vain, she attempted to pull free from Veronica’s tight grip.
“Why’dchu hold myarm?” Her words slurred. “You don’ ‘ven like me…call Poison ‘vee. I know you... ‘eardyou!”
Shocked twitters of laughter rippled through a growing crowd of fascinated spectators. Sebastian grimaced. Blood roared in his veins. The urge to destroy all of them, including Nicholas March,bloody hell,especiallyNicholas March, almost overwhelmed him.
The face of each man staring after Veronica as she dragged the countess away was committed to memory. Only until he turned to slip out the terrace doors did he realized Nicholas was almost upon him.
Their eyes locked, with neither man moving for a long moment. Then, a slow smile of mockery hovering on his lips, Nick bowed. A dark golden brow lifted, silently daring Sebastian to emerge from the shadowy alcove.
Sebastian’s hands tightened. Damn it, his teeth hurt from clenching them so hard. He wanted to storm over and knock that insulting grin from Nick’s face. Knowing if he stayed a second longer he would do something regrettable, he abruptly turned his back and stalked away.
Laughter and loud conversations echoed behind them as Veronica propelled Ivy to the closest set of garden doors. As they drew away from the stimulating confines of the ballroom, Ivy’s pace slowed.
“Wait,” she moaned, swallowing hard and closing her eyes. “Moving…too fast…I’m going to be sick.”
