Page 28 of Burning Secrets of a Lady's Pen
“Always with the excuses.” Lady Belle giggled, her eyelashes fluttering in a way that Imelda was sure had sent lesser a man stumbling. “Darling, youdoowe me a dance still, you know. At the very least. Given our history…” She trailed off suggestively, barely even glancing at Imelda as she did.
And Imelda wondered at the way that Corin grew even more tense beneath her hand.
“Perhaps another time,” he evaded, pulling Imelda with him again as he bowed prettily to Lady Belle and smartly turned them around once more.
“Lady Belle?” Imelda couldn’t keep herself from asking as they traded the cozy atmosphere of the hotel for the bustling London street. “You didn’t even introduce us.”
Although, in retrospect, that was probably for the best due to the alias that Imelda had given and how secretive she had been trying to be.
Corin grunted, not even bothering to ask as he led Imelda to the waiting carriage just a little way away on the street.
“Corin, what did she mean by—oomph.” Imelda had to swallow her words as Corin helped her into his carriage, coming up behind her as if he were afraid that Lady Belle was going to follow him clear out onto the street and come in after them.
Imelda tried to ignore the way that the places where he had held her to help her into the carriage all but pulsed. Really, she was getting ridiculous. Too taken by her own romantic works she was starting to allow herself to smudge those lines between fantasy and reality.
Why, if this had been one of her novels, the likelihood of Corin shutting that door and then turning to fall into her were—Oh, oh my. Her cheeks felt like they were burning as she tried not to banish the image of his large body hovering so boldly over hers, his hands…
No, no, no. She didn’t dare to think on it.
He gave directions to his driver quickly before closing the door behind them, seating himself across from Imelda and narrowly avoiding her gaze just as well as he was her questions.
“Corin—”
“I’ll take you home,” Corin cut her off smoothly. “Although you might want to do away with the wig and the —” He waved his hand around his face referring to the makeup and Imelda felt herself color.
Damn him.
She didn’t live far enough away to waste time arguing. If she was to be seen getting out of his carriage doing so disguised as she was sure to encourage more questions than not.
“I see what you’re doing, you know,” she informed him with a sniff as she unpinned the wig from her hair and quickly shoved it in where her papers had been before. “And if you think that I’m going to just let it go—”
“I didn’t dream of any such notion,” Corin said with a faint smile, his eyes watching with rapt attention as she shook out her natural hair before pinning it back once more.
Oh, Lord, she was going to look like she was wearing rouge no matter what she did if he kept speaking like that.
She scrubbed the handkerchief over her face, pulling off as much of the rouge she had borrowed as she could manage as she went. “You are terrible, you know.”
“And here I thought I was the picture of accommodation,” Corin snarked with clear amusement.
Imelda bit the inside of her cheek as she shoved the makeup-ridden rag in atop the wig as well.
“You—”
“Missed a bit,” Corin murmured, leaning forward and wiping the pad of his thumb along the right side corner of her lips.
Imelda’s breath caught, her eyes catching his, and that same something that had passed between them at the hotel took precedence again.
She really shouldn’t want him to lean in so badly.
As soon as she thought it, he was moving, though, standing and going to open the door as Imelda realized with a start that sometime between his leaning forward and his thumb touching her lips, they had pulled up in front of her uncle’s estate.
“Lord Salthouse! Imelda!” Her uncle boomed as they exited the carriage, making Imelda jump all over. “Funny seeing the two of you here.” His eyes twinkled in merriment, one hand on Theodore’s shoulder where he had obviously just met the other man coming out of his own carriage.
“We ran into one another on my way out of the shops,” Imelda lied quickly. “He offered me a lift home…”
“I was just coming to invite you to the theater, Miss Merrit,” Theodore cut in with a friendly smile, barely even looking over at Corin. “And your…friend as well…if he wishes to come.”
Imelda felt a sliver of panic, but Corin was much quicker than she was.
