Page 19 of Ruthless with a Rogue
And by the conviction in her voice, he didn’t doubt for a moment she would.He feared for anyone who stood in her way.God, she was going to be a glorious shag.
“And this is all to win…whose attention are you trying to win here?”
Her gaze flitted away.“Mr.Warren Thorton.”He pocketed that.Miss Forester tapped the paper.“These are the women who can provide me with a voucher to Almack’s.Therefore, I need to somehow invade their circles and gain their attention and approval.”
She traced lines leading down from the matrons.“Under each matron is a group of lords and ladies closest to the matron.I consider these to be their inner circle.Those who have the most sway over their opinions.Underneath are members of society who are influential to the inner circle.As we move down, the groups become larger and larger.Which means more individuals who can sing my praise to those above them.”
She took a deep breath, and Derek’s eyes locked on her bosom, her small breasts surging against the white frills lining her yellow day dress.How would she respond if he trailed his tongue along the edge of her bodice?If he tugged that bodice down, revealed all of her to him.
Derek was a breast cove.As in he loved all breasts.Small and pert, so large he nearly drowned in them, hell, give them to him each a different size.Dark nipples, rosy nipples, when they had a bit of personality and pointed out at a saucy angle.He just wanted his hands and mouth on them.And he had a feeling this woman was hiding a pair of breasts just as deceptively delicious as the rest of her.Would she like a bit of teeth—
Miss Forester snapped her fingers in his face.His eyes widened.No one had ever done anything so rude to him before.
“My eyes are up here.”She looked pointedly at him.
Derek’s annoyance faded, and his lips hooked up in a half-grin.He decided right then and there that he liked her impertinence.He hoped she would bring that into the bedroom.He hadn’t ever had a bratty lover.Mmm, but getting to punish her impertinence?Yes.He very much liked the thought of that.
The look she gave him was dry as dust, and then she moved back to the map.He spotted his name directly under the Dowager Duchess of Ironcrest.He would hand it to Miss Forester.She had done her research.
He made a show of removing his gloves, and she glared obstinately at him.Amusement lit in his chest, and he leaned forward, brushing up against her side as he pointed to his name.“And here I am.You snagged quite a connected second in command.”
He traced the lines, moving gradually closer to where her hand lay pressed flat against the map.He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and saw her satisfied smile, her glowing eyes.Pride.His heartbeat stuttered.
“I did, did I not?”Their eyes clashed.Her smile faltered.
Their position leaning over the tea table had them mere inches apart.His pulse took off.His attention dipped to her lips and then back up.
He slid his fingers blindly across the paper, searching…searching.His skin met her frayed gloves, the material so thin he could feel the heat of her skin.His insides ignited, her touch like flint striking steel, sending sparks leaping to life.Her gaze snapped down, but his was locked on those darkening blue irises.
He traced her fingers, slowly drawing an outline around them.She sucked in a soft breath, but didn’t pull away, just stared, transfixed, where they touched.Like maybe she was going up in flames too.He ran his fingertips up and over her fingers, up over the back of her hand, then down to her fingers again.Her breasts rose in short, quick bursts.Lovely.
Her stare finally flicked back to his, even closer now, tracing his spectacles.He was pulling her in.He refused to believe it was the other way around.He leaned forward infinitesimally.His heart clamored in his chest.She glanced down at his mouth.She licked her lips.He could almost taste the shortbread flavor that would be on her tongue.Victory.
He shut his eyes and closed the distance.
And was met with nothing but air.
His eyes flew open.And was met with a mulish expression.Damnit.He glared at her, his beautiful mule, and ground his teeth together.
“Please…” he drawled and waved his hand with a flourish.“Enlighten me about this plan of yours.”
She ignored his curt tone and turned back to the papers, running her hand underneath the matrons listed at the top of her society tree.“There are four patronesses of Almack’s currently in London.From what I have read, they are discerning and turn away more women than they grant vouchers to.It is likely they only accept half of the young ladies vying for a voucher.I would rather err on the side of caution.Let us assume they only provide vouchers to thirty percent.If I only impress upon one matron, then I only have a thirty percent chance of being admitted.”
She turned to Derek, her shoulders, eyebrows, and jaw rigid.“I do not like those odds.Especially considering I have very little to recommend me.”
Miss Forester glanced down, lifting her outdated skirts with one hand and letting the fabric float down.Derek nodded as he studied her.She wore her rigidity like a shield around herself, as if no hurt could penetrate through it.
“You’re not wrong.”He was nothing if not honest.“While your father is a baron, he is a baron who never travels to town, and most of the ton has forgotten his existence.I don’t know anything about your mother, but she clearly has no presence—here or in the ton.Your aunt hasn’t frequented town in years.Not to mention the fact that she never produced heirs for your uncle.Another mark against you.”The chit wasn’t the only one who did her research.Derek didn’t ever like to be caught unaware.
She gave a single jerky nod and looked back at the tree in front of her.“My best chance is to infiltrate each of the matron’s inner circles.With a thirty percent success rate”—she glanced at him quickly—“that’s a seventy percent failure rate.”She looked back down.“With four possibilities…that leaves me a…” She wrinkled her nose, her eyes going slightly cross-eyed.Her tongue darted out the corner of her mouth.
Derek’s gaze pinged around the room.Was she having a fit?Granted, it was a rather adorable fit if it was one.Those lips moved soundlessly, curling around something.Heat flared in his groin.What in the bloody hell was happening?Her eyes were closed now, forehead wrinkled.
Then those blue eyes snapped open.“75.99% chance of being admitted.”
His jaw fell open.“Pardon?”
“If I am able to impress upon all four matrons, I have a 75.99% chance of getting a voucher.”
