Page 3 of The Secret of My Seduction
His eyebrows shot up. “Boring! You wrote of an encounter in Hyde Park in the last installment.”
Her mouth turned down. All the excitement of that chapter had revolved around the prospect of Lady X getting caught with her lover making love in a stand of trees not far from the carriageway. Bathsheba understood all about the sick terror of getting caught doing something illicit and risking being exposed and humiliated. What she didn’t know, at least not well enough, was the craving for another person that would drive someone to risk everything for those few minutes of rapture. “I can’t keep writing stories where the sole source of tension is the location of the encounter.”
“Why not?”
She threw her arms wide. “Where else would you have me set a story? In the British Museum? Onstage in Drury Lane? If you suggest a Royal Drawing Room, I shall slap your face.”
He waved one hand irritably. “Of course I would never suggest that. You’ve never been—”
Blessedly, he stopped before finishing it, but Bathsheba knew what he meant. She’d never been anywhere half so elegant and wouldn’t have the first idea how to describe a Drawing Room reception at St. James’s Palace. Since it was true, she didn’t dwell on the faint sting of the words, but seized on the fact that he’d proved her point. “Exactly! I’ve never been to the Court of St. James, so I couldn’t possibly write sensibly about it. The same is true of this other matter. However, while I am highly unlikely ever to receive an invitation to St. James’s, I bloody well can find a man to take me to bed.”
For some reason, whenever she swore, Liam took her more seriously. He did this time as well, dropping into the chair beside her. “I just don’t think it’s necessary,” he argued.
Bathsheba could see the fight had gone out of him. “That’s why you’re the publisher and I’m the author,” she said firmly. “It’s not your place to have good story ideas. Your job is to take full advantage of my good ideas. Don’t worry, Liam. I promise to be discreet and not betray any hint of the truth in a tale.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Why me?”
Again Bathsheba’s stomach clenched involuntarily. Was he relenting? Something hot and exhilarating bubbled up in her chest for a moment before she forced it down. “Because it’s for our joint business,” she said aloud, reminding herself as much as telling him. “Because I know you and believe you would be discreet—it not being in either of our interests to reveal it. And because the rumors about you are impressive—” She stopped and had to look away as his gaze grew faintly amused. “Are you reconsidering?”
He leaned forward. “Bathsheba,” he said in the soft Scottish drawl that always caused unwarranted tremors to shiver through her. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
Yes.She would die before saying it out loud. “Would it be faster to try to hire you?”
Liam laughed. “You couldn’t afford me, love.” He sat back and ran a speculative gaze over her. Bathsheba tried not to feel the way her nipples hardened as his gray eyes lingered on her bosom. If any other man had ever looked at her breasts that way, she couldn’t recall it. “But for business… You know the way to my heart. I’ll do it.”
She blinked. “Lovely.”
“Where do you propose to conduct this research?”
“Er.” She hadn’t worked that out. In fact, she was only now realizing that she hadn’t truly expected him to agree. “I’ll let you know.”
But he’d seen. His eyes now gleaming with satisfaction, Liam surged out of his chair. “No, no, I’ll arrange it.” He gave her a look, the hint of a smirk curling his mouth. “Based on my greater expertise in the subject.”
Bathsheba’s wits had been somewhat scrambled by the lightning-fast change in his attitude. “Lovely,” she repeated in the same blank tone.
Liam crossed his arms over his chest—rather a broad chest, now that she looked at it anew—and smiled. Not a smirk, not a ruthless twist of his lips, but a sensual expression that hinted of wickedness beyond her wildest imagination. Which was what she had wanted, but perhaps not quite what she had expected. “It will be, love,” he promised. “It will be.”
Chapter Two
“What scandals are you exploiting these days?” Angus lined up his cue and squinted at his ball.
Liam sipped his whisky. “As many as I can find.”
His brother grunted and made his shot, scoring a cannon as his ball hit two others. “It’s not like you to keep something from Mother.”
“Mother hears at least as much as I print in the paper.”
Angus cocked his head and made another shot, sending Liam’s ball across the green baize and almost potting it in the corner pocket. Almost, but not quite.
Liam grinned vindictively. He and his brother played cutthroat billiards rules; any foul wiped out all a player’s points in a round. It was a tradition of theirs after Sunday dinner at their mother’s home. At times Liam suspected she’d bought this billiard table strictly to lure them here. Thin-lipped, Angus stepped aside. Liam did not intend to yield the table again. He set down his glass and reached for his cue.
“I can tell you’ve got something.” Angus picked up the piece of lambswool they used to clean the cues. In a competitive fit, Angus had had a cue made to his personal specifications. Liam had mocked him for that, even though he’d secretly had a custom stick made as well, an exact match in appearance for those in his mother’s cabinet, and substituted it for one of the ordinary cues. Since Angus only used his personal cue, and no one else played billiards on Mrs. MacGregor’s table, the replacement had gone unnoticed.
Now Liam hefted his perfectly weighted cue stick and surveyed the table. He did so enjoy ruining his older brother at billiards. “Two guineas a round, was it?”
“One,” said Angus curtly. “Wake me if you ever make a shot.”
“Go ahead and close your eyes,” murmured Liam, calculating the angles and lining up his plan of attack. “Perhaps then you won’t bawl like a child when I trounce you.”
