Page 13 of A Tempest of Desire
“What do clouds actually feel like?”
As substantial, as wonderful, as you.The response that ran through her mind was automatic because it was the sort of thing she would say to a man to make him feel more masculine, more appreciated, more... desired. She always knew precisely what to say in order to wrap a gent around her little finger, but she didn’t want to play those games with this man. When she was in her hot-air balloon, she didn’t have to play games. She could be herself. She was left with the impression that for the few days while she was here, she wouldn’t have to play games either.
Wincing as he tugged on a particularly nasty knot, she slipped her arms back beneath the blanket. She didn’t want to use her learned wiles to seduce him. “I don’t know that I ever actually touched one. I suspect, however, that it would be very much like running your hands through smoke. Have you ever been in a balloon?”
“I went up in one at Cremorne Gardens. It remained tethered to the ground. It didn’t travel with the wind.”
“Then you haven’t really been in a balloon. I’d give you a ride in mine, but it is no doubt at the bottom of the sea, causing a stir among the fish as they attempt to determine what sort of creature it might be. I don’t suppose you saw any remnants of my conveyance on the shore where you found me.”
“I was scouring around for survivors, not wreckage. Mostly, however, I was focused on you, and ensuring you continued to breathe.”
He glided the brush through her hair, and she wondered when he had managed to rid her of so many tangles. “You’re remarkably at ease around a man you don’t know.”
She was extremely comfortable around all men. “But I do know you, Langdon, and I’m well aware I appeal to you not in the least.”
His brow furrowed and his hands stilled. “How did you arrive at that conclusion?”
“That night when Hollie made his ghastly offer—before he did—I saw your cards.”
“I suspected as much. Upon your return, your hand going beneath the table was a signal to him, wasn’t it?”
What was the harm in revealing the truth? “Yes, I was letting him know he couldn’t beat you.”
“Yet, he was still willing to wager...you.”
The last word was delivered so sharply that it could have cut glass. “I’ve never understood why you accepted his terms. You were so uninterested in me that you deliberately took action to lose.”
He skimmed his finger along her chin, and she felt the touch clear down to her toes. “Do you truly believe any man in London is uninterested in you? Especially when you go to such bother to ensure they are?”
She didn’t hear any censure in his tone—and yet, he’d tossed away his aces. “You proved you’re not.”
“Is that the reason you take no shame in baring your legs to me?”
With a scoff, she rolled her eyes. “Why must women’s legs always be hidden?”
“Because they are the path that leads a man to paradise.”
Good Lord, she was accustomed to seducing, not being seduced. She was fairly certain she’d grown so warm her body was reheating the water.
They were staring at each other, his silver eyes going dark. Was he interested? His previous actions indicated not, but at that precise moment he looked as though he might be contemplating kissing her. She was considering pressing her lips to his, but he didn’t strike her as the sort who would stop with only a kiss. She already knew she would be unable to resist him, so if she did as she yearned to do, they might end up in this tub together. Most certainly they’d end up in that large, enticing bed.
While he might have once rejected her, he wasn’t spoiled for choice here. Perhaps that was the reason she very deliberately and quite slowly moved her head back so her chin was no longer able to enjoy his gentle strokes.
A corner of his mouth hitched up. “Wise woman. With that cut on your lip still healing, it would have been painful to kiss me.”
Her screech was tiny but shrill. “You arrogant man. I wasn’t considering kissing you.”
“Weren’t you?”
“No.” She didn’t know why she was intent on lying. She knew only that in a relationship it did her no favors to be shown yearning for anything. It could turn the most innocent thing —a frock, abroach, an outing, a dog—into a weapon. Always, always, she had to show that nothing mattered. Only then would she matter.
Although truth be told, she wasn’t in a relationship with this man. Wasn’t even contemplating one. She was of the opinion that if he had been moving toward her and she’d said no that he would have stopped. He wouldn’t take what she wasn’t willingly offering. Perhaps that was the reason that she kept testing him. Or perhaps it was simply her nature now not to care what men saw of her. A foot, an ankle, a calf, a knee, a thigh. What did it matter?
The pathway to paradise.
She thought she might be blushing when she hadn’t blushed since the evening Hollie had made his proposal that she become his mistress. All she had to do was lie with him and all her troubles would go away. She’d been nineteen and so naive. She hadn’t realized other troubles would take their place.
“Where did you go just then?”
