Page 17 of The Beauty and the Boxer
“Stop looking at me as though you wish tocause me harm,” she whispered, before rotating her head to addressLady Bixby.
The gentle reprimand, followed by beingignored by Meredith for an entire six course meal was an experienceJack had never known before. He was physically close to her, soclose that he could feel the warmth between them should their armscome too close, and yet they could barely acknowledge each other.It was some kind of exquisite torture—a more stimulating game hehad not known. To be close enough to touch, but never beingpermitted to? What a divine agony.
Why was he so brutally aware of her? Shewasn’t eating very much, he noted with a bewildering concern. Theymaintained different conversations with different people at alltimes, and yet Jack was acutely aware of every movement, everylaugh, every gesture she made throughout the entire dinner.
It was excruciating and yet, the single mosterotic evening of his life.
There was something to be said for being soaware of someone when a person was restricted by decorum. Jack hadnever restricted himself, not since he was able to provide forhimself. Food, clothing, horses, anything he could possibly want hesought to get it. Still, it had never occurred to him that anythingshould hamper or restrict his access to physical relations wheneverhe wished to have them. Except that when he had decided that herequired a visit to LaMont’s brothel, he couldn’t quite bringhimself to venture over to visit.
Of course, that had been a terrible mistake.He was indeed paying for not giving his physical needs muchattention, becoming acutely aware of the faint scent of violets.Why did she have to smell so enticing?
Jack tried to blame it on the fact that hehad simply gone too long without lying with someone, but thinkingback to the last dozen or so times, it had felt more mechanicalthan anything else. It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed it, but ithadn’t fulfilled him. Like wanting a certain meal and having tosettle for toast. But that was hardly anyone’s fault. Jack was surehe was simply going through some sort of phase. It used to be oneof his favorite things, but there had been a certain lackingquality in recent months that had left him more ready to tackle apile of papers than to bother with the disappointment that wouldcome with a finished, unfulfilling conquest.
Somehow, he knew it would be different withMeredith.
Taking a long, bracing sip of his wine, Jacktried to extinguish the idea of him and Meredith, laying nakedtogether on his bed in Burnwall, entangled in a web of white sheetsand limbs. He wondered what her body would feel like beneath hisscarred and calloused hands. He pictured her coming to him wearinga high neck lace nightgown and it drove him mad that he could findsuch a ridiculously prudish garment so erotic. He’d liked to tearit apart.
Jack coughed into his fist, causing severalpeople to glance up, before quickly peering away. Sometimes it paidto be scary. He needed to get a hold of himself.
Meredith was someone whom he couldn’t have.He hadn’t ever even considered her a provocative creature untilthis precise moment and what a mistake he had made in doing so. Shewas a gentle born woman—a lady—and he wasn’t sure why he wassuddenly aware that she was the most desirable creature in theroom.
It was the way she looked at him, hedecided, as dinner concluded and the gentleman retired to thebilliards room for cigars. The honesty he saw in her hooded,green-brown eyes rendered him speechless. When she observed him, hefelt both completely seen and entirely transparent.
It was dangerous to let a woman have suchcommand over his senses he concluded as MacDougall and Hendersonbegan a game of snooker. Bixby and the other peer, a Lord Grant,seemed to be discussing something of importance with Jenik, leavingSimon to hand his brother his second scotch of the night.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” Simon asked hisbrother as he took a sip from his own glass.
“Hardly how I’d prefer to spend an evening,”Jack said lowly so only Simon could hear. “But I suppose it isn’tterrible.”
“Sarah’s pleased. She thinks it’s been asuccessful reintroduction for Meredith.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t invite anyavailable peers. I would have assumed that she would want hersister to marry some lofty member of the ton.”
“Meredith isn’t as tender footed as theyoung ladies who make their debut. Not to mention the marriagemarket is extremely competitive, or so Sarah says.”
“And she doesn’t believe her sister couldmake a successful match with someone of first society?” Jack asked,feeling both annoyed and glad at the same time.
Who was Sarah to have such little faith inher sister’s abilities? Meredith was beautiful, witty, and honest,a quality that seemed to be lacking in first society. Really, shewas probably too good for half the ton, if not all of them. No oneshould be subjected to such a life as a peer’s wife. But he refusedto believe it was because none would have her.
“Actually, it wasn’t Sarah’s idea not toinvite more titled gentleman,” Simon said. “It was Meredith.”
Jack’s brow rose.
“Why?” he asked, but Simon seemed to beuncomfortable with the information he possessed. Jack pressed him.“Tell me.”
“It’s not my business,” Simon said.
“Then you shouldn’t care to tell me aboutit.”
“I mean it’s a bad sort of gossip,” he saidthe word with distaste. “If it got out…”
“Surely you wouldn’t think that I wouldspread such information?” Jack said, feeling his eagerness edge onagitation. His voice dipped. “Was something done to her?”
“In a way, I suppose.”
“You suppose?”
“Listen,” Simon said quietly. “Meredith’sprivate matters are her own. If you want to know about it, you canask her yourself.”
