Part 20 (1/2)

”Mercy!” he mocked. ”Careful, now, Arabella. Or are you trying to reform

me?”

”I don't know,” she said earnestly. ”Perhaps I am.”

He leaned close. An unholy light glimmered in his eyes. He gave her a slow, simmering appraisal.

”I might be persuaded, you know.”

His tone was low. Lazily seductive. Arabella's stomach knotted. She couldn't take her eyes from his. A breeze ruffled his dark hair. His handsomeness struck her in a way that had never happened before - she, who had thought herself immune to it! Her gaze traced over the perfect contours of his features, the slightly aquiline nose, the way his lower lip was fuller than the upper, his jaw dark with his beard.

He was so close their shoulders brushed. What was it about this man that made her heart race? That made forbidden longings spill through every part of her, despite everything she knew of him. Despite knowing what he was, all the rakish things he'd done.

”Justin,” she blurted, ”you've been with many women, haven't you?”

She'd startled him, she realized. He gave her a long, slow look. ”Where the devil did that come from?”

Her tongue came out to moisten her lips. ”The night of the masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens, I overheard some women talking about you. One said you were a lover of-” oh, surely her entire body was on fire, ”of superb finesse.”

For the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat, he stared directly into her eyes. She had the unsettling sensation he was wondering if he'd heard her correctly. Indeed, Arabella could scarcely believe her daring. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was a wild, wanton streak in her.

”I see,” he said after a moment. ”And are you wondering if it's true?”

”Well*if you're so wicked and depraved and immoral, then why do women want you?” It all came out in a rush, and then she couldn't seem to stop. ”I've seen them, you know. Their lips say one thing, but when they look at you, why, it's almost as if they wish to be debauched.”

It was all Justin could do not to burst into laughter. The very idea that prim, proper Arabella dared to broach such a subject was mind-boggling. When he'd followed her here, never in his life did he imagine the turn of their conversation.

Nor was she finished, it seemed.

”Have you done licentious things?” she queried tentatively.

”And if I said yes?”

”Then I would ask if*if licentious things*are pleasurable.”

He raised a rakish brow. ”Why are you asking me this? Last night you claimed you were not flirting with me.”

”And I'm not. I'm simply*” She floundered.

”Curious?”

”Yes,” she said breathlessly. ”And I know of no one else to ask.”

”Thank you,” he said dryly. ”That was flattering.”

Slender brows drew together over her brows. ”Aren't you going to answer?”

”I am not.” He got to his feet and extended a hand.

She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. ”Why not?”

She stood with her back against the trunk of the tree they'd been sitting under. Very deliberately,

Justin placed first one hand, then the other, on the rough bark beside her.

Her gaze slid from one arm to the other, then jerked back to his eyes. He knew the exact moment she realized she was trapped.

He adopted his most roguish tone. ”My dear Arabella,” he said softly, ”I am alone

with a beautiful woman. There is no one here to see. You want to talk about licentious things, while I

would rather do licentious things.” As he spoke, he leaned in even farther.She nearly jumped out of her skin. She wasted no time ducking under his arm. He turned as she grabbedup her shoes and stockings, holding them to her breast like a s.h.i.+eld. Her expression, a mixture ofuncertainty and righteous indignation, nearly set him off.

He raised his brows. ”What! Did you think I was going to kiss you?”

She sniffed. ”As if I would let you!” Yet despite her bravado, she scuttled to the other side of the tree and began to tug on her shoes and stockings.

”Are you properly shocked?” he said mildly.

”Hardly,” she snorted.

He smiled. ”Rest a.s.sured, Arabella, whatever licentious activities I may have engaged in, it was

not with innocent young maidens.” He glanced toward the house. ”We should be getting

back. It's almost teatime.”

Arabella took the arm he offered, her bonnet dangling from her fingertips. They began to amble toward the house. ”For a man of such vast experience,” she remarked, ”you are remarkably close-mouthed. I thought men had a decided proclivity to boast about such things.”

He a.s.sisted her over an exposed tree root. ”Mostly to other men. Not to -”

”Yes, I know.” She rolled her eyes. ”Innocent young maidens. But I'm not