Page 19 of The Pleasures of Passion
“Taking you off to have my wicked way with you. So that’s how you saw our last encounter—as my plotting a tawdry seduction.” He uttered a mirthless laugh. “And now you think that Fulkham and I might have cooked up a counterfeiting scheme involving your father, in order to help me lure you into my bed? Is that what you’re insinuating?”
When he put it that way, it sounded a bit ridiculous. “I . . . I suppose not.”
“How do I know thatyoudidn’t cook up this scheme with Fulkham for your own nefarious purposes?”
She huffed out a breath. “Don’t be absurd. You’re the one who’s a friend of his. I barely know the man.”
Eyes darkening, he stepped right up to her. “That’s not how it appeared at dinner. The two of you were quite cozy, laughing and chatting like old friends. Or perhaps lovers?”
The accusation was so unfounded that it made her gasp. “How dare you?” She thrust her face up into his. “I am not that kind of woman, drat you!”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Nor am I that kind of man.” He bent so close that she could smell the brandy on his breath. “But trust me, if I wanted to lure you into my bed, I wouldn’t have to resort to some ridiculous scheme to do it.”
The sheer arrogance of that statement astonished her. “Really? You’re that sure of your ability to ‘lure’ me?”
That seemed to catch him off guard. “Damnation, that’s not what I me—”
“Well, sir, I may have been fool enough to believe all your sweet words and kisses years ago, but I know better now than to listen to a seducer’s lies.”
His eyes glittered. “They weren’t lies, and you know it, Bree.”
His nickname for her, the nearness of him, the fact that his eyes were the color of warm honey just now . . . all conspired to remind her of what they’d once been to each other.
She couldn’t catch her breath. Or move. Or speak.
They stood locked in silence while his gaze played over her face, hard and hungry. His breathing quickened the way it used to when he was about to kiss her, and she actually braced herself for the touch of his lips to hers.
Then he seemed to catch himself. Muttering an oath, he whirled away.
Relief coursed through her. At least she wanted it to be relief, anyway.
“Fortunately for you,” he bit out, “I have no desire to lure you into anything. Believe what you want about this scheme, but spending time with you would not have been my first choice for a way to repay Fulkham.”
“So if we’re both unhappy about that, how are we going to convince my father that we’re in love?”
“We don’t have to. We just have to convince him that we wish to marry. People marry for all sorts of reasons. We’ll simply pick another one, Bree.”
“Stop calling me that.”
He leveled a hard glance on her. “Why?”
Because it’s too much like before. Because it brings back memories. Because it makes me forget who you really are.
She met his gaze steadily. “My father is unaware of our past . . . friendship, remember? If you call me Bree, he’ll find it odd that you have a pet name for me when we can’t have known each other long. I’m sure he’s heard the news about your recent return to England. Apparently, it was in all the papers.”
She only wished she’d seen it, but at the time, she’d been so busy dealing with Delia and Silas and Aunt Agatha that she’d missed that particular article.
“Then I won’t use the nickname aroundhim.” He smirked at her. “Bree.”
“Oh, you are such a . . . a rogue.”
That wiped the smirk from his face. “Well, Iamsupposed to be playing a reckless fellow who needs money.” His eyes narrowed. “Actually, that would work. I could be marrying you for your dowry.”
She stiffened. “My father may be unreliable and untrustworthy, but he’s not so awful that he’d want to see me wed to a fortune hunter.” Especially if the association was of no benefit tohim.
“Fine.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You already think me a rogue, so how about if I want to marry you simply to have a beautiful wife in my bed? And what if you’re willing to go along because you want to be a countess, not to mention the mother of the next Earl of Margrave? That sort of transaction is fairly typical in our circles.”
She eyed him warily. “Is it believable, though? Why should you marry a beautiful woman of no consequence, when you can satisfy your desires with any available light-skirt?”
