Page 36 of To Pleasure a Prince
Very well, let her play her tricks; he had a few tricks of his own. He’d proved well enough last night that the little hypocriteenjoyedhis kisses and caresses. He would remind her of it. Repeatedly. Remind her what a courtship entailed, what a suitor had a right to expect. If that didn’t drive her screaming from him, then nothing would.
They’d reached Iversley’s box to find that it was prominently situated in the first tier. Good—Regina couldn’t avoid having the whole world see her enter on his arm.
Better yet, “box” proved to be a generous term for the closet Iversley had rented. Regina seemed none too happy about it when she halted just inside the door. “Perhaps we should use Simon’s box. There’s more room.”
“This looks fine to me.” Marcus let his gaze linger on her. “Very cozy.”
“It does have a marvelous view of the stage,” Louisa said brightly.
“From what I understand,” Marcus said, “the view of the boxes from the other boxes is all that matters to ladies at the opera.”
“How would you know?” Louisa raised her voice to be heard over the din of the other patrons. “You’ve never been to the opera.”
“That wouldn’t keep your brother from voicing his opinion,” Regina said archly. “Why obtain any facts before making pronouncements about society?”
“Actually, Ihavebeen to the opera,” Marcus said. “In my salad days, I was as eager to ogle opera dancers as any other unlicked cub. So unless matters have changed since then, I doubt anyone is here to listen to the music.” He certainly wasn’t. He liked a good song as much as the next man, but opera was downright silly. “Are we staying in Iversley’s box or not?”
“Yes, let’s.” Winking at her brother, Louisa took the arm of Regina’s cousin. “Come, Miss Tremaine, we’ll sit in the front.”
Marcus bit back a smile at how deftly his sister had positioned him with Regina behind her chaperone. As Regina took her seat in the back row, he waited until she was well settled before he slid the other chair closer to hers and sat down.
He could tell from her stiff posture that she was not pleased. Good. And just so she’d have something to stew about, he laid his arm on the back of her chair.
She raised an eyebrow, but he merely smiled. She knocked her reticule onto the floor. “Oh, dear,” she said in a voice loud enough to carry, “I’ve dropped my reticule. Lord Draker, if you would be so kind…”
He had no choice but to pick it up, which meant removing his arm from the back of her chair. When he straightened to hand her the pearl-encrusted bit of nothing, she’d inched her chair flush against the wall.
Sly wench. Obviously she thought a private dalliance was fine, but she seemed determined to hide their association from her friends.
He wouldn’t let her. “Forgive me,” he lied as he bent closer. “I forgot my promise to make my impertinences more discreet.” Deliberately, he took her hand.
Just as deliberately, she snatched it back, a faint blush touching her cheeks. “I would prefer that you not be impertinent at all.”
“I thought it was merely the possibility of someone’s seeing my impertinences that bothered you.” He laid his hand on her thigh, and when she reached to remove it, captured her hand in his. She tried to tug it free, but he held firm.
Her gaze shot to him, annoyed, then calculating. “Do you have my copy of the translation, sir?”
“You know very well that I do. You entrusted it to me in the carriage.”
The opera house sold libretto translations at the performance, but apparently she had connections to buy hers ahead of time. She said it was so that she could read it beforehand and not miss the music. He suspected it was just so she could turn up her nose at everyone who had to buy theirs at the opera house.
“Well then,” she said, eyes gleaming, “may I see it?”
It was sandwiched between their chairs, where he’d placed it when they’d sat down. And short of becoming a contortionist, he could not reach it without releasing her hand. Which she apparently knew very well, blast her.
“Where’s the copy I bought?” he countered.
“Louisa and Cicely are using it. So if I may just see mine…”
With a scowl, he dropped her hand. Dragging out the cheaply bound pamphlet, he started to hand it to her, but she snatched it from him and rose in one fluid movement, edging over to stand beneath the lamp in the corner of the box.
The orchestra tuned up. Soon the music would begin. He gazed up at her. “Do you intend to stand there the entire evening, reading it out to us?”
The lamplight flickered over her flushed cheeks. “Of course not. I merely wanted to check something in the third act.”
Since she had only turned one page, she was nowhere near the third act. He smiled. “It’s farther back—bring it here, and I’ll find it for you.”
A sudden panic flashed in her eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of looking for it myself, thank you.”
