Page 30 of The Forbidden Lord
Her mouth went dry. Her particular variation on the waltz would no doubt lead tohisparticular variation if she ever allowed him to get her alone again. And she suspected that his variation would be a great deal naughtier than hers.
Thankfully, Lady Dundee returned just then. “I don’t know what’s wrong with servants these days. I swear they can’t— Oh, good evening, sir.” She halted beside Emily, her gaze narrowing on Jordan. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Emily performed the introductions quickly, eager to be away from him.
“I see Lady Emma gets her looks from you.” He took Lady Dundee’s plump hand and pressed a gallant kiss to it.
Goodness gracious. Was he hinting that Emily was an impostor? Or merely paying Lady Dundee the usual facile compliments?
Whatever the case, he’d met his match in Lady Dundee. “Of course she does,” she said smoothly, as if she weren’t speaking the most blatant lie in Christendom. “The shape of her brows, the elegant nose … it all came from my line, though she resembles her father, too. The Campbell mouth, you know.”
Emily barely smothered a laugh when Jordan actually searched her features as if to confirm Lady Dundee’s words.
“I must say, Blackmore,” Lady Dundee continued, “that you’ve given the lie to what I heard about you. I was told you never flattered young women and their mamas. I was even told that you preferred a more experienced sort of woman.”
He shook his head in mock disappointment. “All these unfounded rumors. As someone once told me, it’s not right forpeople to malign a man when he’s not there to defend himself.” He cast her a taunting smile. “Don’t you agree, Lady Emma?”
Dear heavens, she’d said those very words to him when they were in the carriage together!
“Besides,” he went on smugly, “I wouldn’t think of treating you and your lovely daughter so abominably, Lady Dundee. Lady Emma is the mostoriginalwoman I’ve met in a long time.”
So original she’s invented, his gloating smile said. Emily pretended not to catch his meaning.
Lady Dundee evidently missed it entirely. “Yes, my daughter is quite original. All the men think so. Even before her coming out, I had to send several unsuitable young men in Scotland packing.”
Her unwitting reference to the very suitors Emily had mentioned earlier wiped the smile off Jordan’s mouth. “Did you really? I’m not surprised. Lady Emma has a talent for attracting unsuitable men.”
Lady Dundee tapped her foot with impatience. “My brother would say thatyou’reunsuitable, Lord Blackmore. I believe he disapproves of your politics.”
“Your brother disapproves of everything about me. But your brother is a fool.”
The blatant insult astonished Emily. She glanced at Lady Dundee, who surprised her by laughing. “Indeed he is. Always has been. How good of you to notice.”
Just then, the footman announced that their carriage had come.
Lady Dundee drew her cloak more closely about her. “A pity I can’t stay and hear more of your intriguing opinions, but we really must leave. Come, Emma.”
She headed off for the entrance, but before Emily could follow, Jordan caught her arm. Bending his head, he whispered,“We’ll continue our discussion when your protector is not around.”
Protector, not mother. She glared at him, then regretted it. Looking at him was always a mistake. A man that handsome should be locked away from virgins.
Fixing his gaze on her, he lifted her gloved hand to his lips. When he pressed a kiss to the back of it, a shock of awareness sizzled up her arm and exploded over her like Chinese fireworks.
“You and I aren’t finished,” he whispered meaningfully.
“Dear me, I’m all aquiver with anticipation,” she snapped as she jerked her hand free, then whirled away to follow Lady Dundee.
Jordan watched her go, every muscle straining to keep from rushing after her and shaking her senseless. She had to be Emily Fairchild. No matter what any of them said, she couldnotbe this Lady Emma creature.
This alluring, infuriating, Lady Emma creature.
As Emily Fairchild, she’d tempted him with sweetness. As Lady Emma, however ... What would taking her to bed be like? He imagined tracing each line and curve of her shapely limbs with his mouth, taking down her hair with its cloud of lavender scent and rubbing the gossamer strands between his fingers, filling his palms with her lovely ripe breasts--
Sweet God in heaven, he was hard again. No woman had ever made him lose control like this, and he’d made love to the best courtesans—the most famous, the most beautiful. Those women had satisfied his needs, but he’d never burned for them this intensely, not before, not after. He was sweating buckets merely thinking about having Emily’s body beneath his, her legs spread in welcome, her skin hot to the touch as she cried his name at the height of her release.
With a curse, he strode up to the footman and ordered that his carriage be brought. Devil take her lovely face and quick mind and this strange masquerade. Was she Emily or not?
She had to be Emily—no other woman had ever affected him like this. She was Emily and she was lying, and he would prove it somehow.
