Page 37 of Wicked Designs
CHAPTER 7
Ready to return to her room after dinner, Emily rose from her chair. “Do I have your permission to retire, Your Grace?”
Godric caught her by her right arm, tugging her right onto his lap. She ought to have struggled, she knew that, but she found it nearly impossible to summon any will to get away. It seemed her heart had finally decided to fight against her head.
“Will you stay in your room as you promised?”
“I promise I won’t escape tonight.” She tried to remove herself from his lap. “I gave my word.”
He grunted softly and grabbed her by the back of the neck, bringing her mouth towards his. He kissed her deeply, almost primitively, with a harsh penetration of his tongue. Her body melted against his fire.
Ashton cleared his throat.
Emily wrenched her face away, embarrassed he wouldtreat her like this in front of the others. She tried to slap Godric, but he caught her hand.
“I’ve had enough bruises for one day. I won’t let you slap me. Remember that, Emily.”
“I am not a fast lady. You cannot go about manhandling me.”
“She has you there.” Ashton snickered into his wine glass.
Godric ignored him, his full attention on her, her hand still raised, and his still holding it back. There was something in his gaze, a wildness born of his desire to chase her.
“May I go now, Your Grace?”
“You may.” She started to pull free but he prevented it. “If you give me another kiss goodnight.”
He flashed her that smug grin, and she really did want to hit him. Emily was beginning to despise her confusion when it came to Godric.
“Very well, although in my opinion you’ve had far too many kisses today, Your Grace.”
She leaned down to kiss his forehead. He caught her chin and brought her mouth further down to meet his. Her raised hand dropped to his shoulder as he delved into her mouth with his tongue. It was so easy for the world to fade when he kissed like that.Damn him.
Godric’s arm around her waist tightened, but that called her back to reality, and she wriggled free of his grasp.
“Fine, go.”
His treatment of her only reaffirmed her belief that she would be nothing more than a mistress, a body towarm his bed. He didn’t respect her the way he would a wife. Then again, there was no guarantee he’d respect a wife. His reputation was shadowed with tales of seducing married women away from their cold marriage beds. Obviously, he had no concern for the sanctity of marriage. Which meant even if he married someone like her, he’d most likely continue on with his affairs. The thought was sickening.
But something teased at the edge of the realm of possibilities. What if…what if she could get him to fall in love with her? If she found a way to make him realize she wasn’t like other women, that she was perfect for him. She’d be with a man who wanted her.
She passed Simkins in the hallway on the way to her room. “Mr. Simkins? Could I trouble you to send up a maid to help me undress?”
“I shall have Mrs. Downing send someone up,” the butler said, and Emily thanked him.
Her room was dark in the purpled evening light as she sat at her vanity table, planning. The question was how did one seduce the master seducer? The chase. He loved the chase, and if she was honest, she rather enjoyed it as well. Was that the answer?
Minutes later, Libba knocked and entered with a broad smile. “Evening, Miss.”
“Libba, please call me Emily. I should like to be friends.” She rotated in her chair to smile at the maid.
“But it wouldn’t be proper, Miss.”
“There is nothing about this situation that is proper, Libba. Now, please, let us be friends. I have no one here to talk to.”
“Talk? I can certainly do that, Miss…Emily. Now, let me get you out of that dress.” Libba’s hands were nimble as she helped Emily rid herself of her clothes and step into a white muslin night rail, which flared out past her calves like the petals of a moonflower. More of her figure was outlined than she would have liked due to its thinness.
Being around a woman her age made Emily feel more comfortable. She grinned at the maid.
