Part 8 (2/2)

She lifted a single dark brow. ”How interesting, Lord Leopold.” Her voice was as silky as the chocolate mousse she'd taunted him with the evening before. ”You may put me down now.”

What he wanted to do was kiss her. Take her fully into his arms and capture her mouth for a long, heated joining that would leave her aching and moaning with need.

Of course, she'd probably slap him if he tried. Still, it might be worth risking her ire. But he had promised not to provoke her-for now at least.

Reluctantly, he set her down.

She stepped back, then reached down to secure the long end of her riding habit so that she would be able to walk unimpeded. Without giving him time to offer an escort, she started across the meadow.

With a shake of his head, he followed.

Thalia willed her heartbeat to slow, grateful for an excuse to put some distance between herself and Lord Leopold. Not that he was allowing her much distance, his long-legged stride giving him more than an unfair advantage when it came to catching up. Still, she kept her gaze fixed ahead, her interest seemingly all for the bountiful wealth of autumnal flora bursting with life around her.

For a moment when he'd had her in his arms, she'd thought he was going to kiss her. Her heart picked up speed again at the memory, wondering what it would have been like if she'd let him.

Disappointing, most likely.

In her experience, the reality of kissing never lived up to the fantasy. Poets wrote all variety of odes and sonnets about the transcendent ecstasy of a lover's kiss, but she'd never found the act to be anything above moderately pleasant.

Her former husband used to tell her she lacked a woman's proper pa.s.sion. Then again Gordon had never had much use for kissing, saying that it mostly amounted to a lot of useless bother. Still, she'd tried to please him, especially in that first tenuous year of their marriage. By the second and third years, she'd been relieved when he'd stopped making any effort in that regard. As for s.e.x, well, that was another golden tale turned to dross. More than her innocence had been stolen on her long-ago wedding night; her rosy dreams for the future had crumpled to dust as well.

Once again she thought of her ironic reputation as a carnally voracious seductress who devoured men like candy. Lord Leopold probably believed that her refusals were part of some elaborate ploy she was using in order to make their eventual bed play more exciting. Only there wasn't going to be any eventual bed play.

Won't he be blue-deviled with disappointment when he finds out? she thought. But that's what he'd get for pursuing a woman who didn't wish to be pursued.

”Look, a crab apple tree,” she said, breaking the silence between them. ”And it's full of fruit. My mother used to have jars of jelly made up every autumn. It was one of my favorite treats at the breakfast table. I haven't eaten it in years.”

”Then perhaps we should apply to Lady Holland and ask if we could harvest a basket or two. It would be easy enough to have the fruit sent on to London. I presume your cook would have no problem finding a recipe.”

”I'm sure not. But I would rather you didn't ask any more favors of Lord and Lady Holland on my behalf.” She gave him a pointed look. ”I believe they have been importuned enough for one visit.”

”I see someone has been telling tales,” he said, not pretending to misunderstand. ”Who?”

”What does it matter who?” She walked a few steps away, then turned to face him again. ”Suffice it to say I know and that I was not pleased to learn how you arranged matters so I would be here for this party. The breadth of your arrogance never fails to amaze me, Lord Leopold. By now half of the company believe I am your mistress, while the other half has only to hear the rumors to believe the same.”

A frown settled on his smooth forehead. ”I only wanted the chance to see you again. You don't make it easy, you know.”

”You're right, I do not. But I have been considering the matter and despite my better judgment, I find your persistence . . . intriguing. It makes me wonder just how far you might be willing to go.”

”Go?” He arched a golden brow.

”Hmm,” she said in a low murmur, ”in your quest to make me your lover in truth. Perhaps a small test is in order.”

He c.o.c.ked his head. ”What sort of test?”

”I was going to wait until after we returned to London, but perhaps here in the country is better.”

His eyes darkened. ”What exactly did you have in mind?”

”A rendezvous. Somewhere we can be private, away from prying eyes, while I decide if I want to take matters between us any further.”

He spread his arms and smiled. ”I am yours to command. We are alone now. Shall we begin here?”

”No, this won't do.” She shook her head. ”We'll be missed if we stay away much longer. I'll send word to let you know when and where we will meet. By the way, you don't shock easily, do you, Lord Leopold?”

His smile widened to a wolf's grin. ”I don't shock at all.”

”Good.” She reached out and ran the tip of one finger along his warm, close-shaven cheek. ”Be prepared for some sport. That is what house parties are for, is it not? Entertainment and sport.”

His green-gold eyes flashed. ”How right you are.”

Thalia turned away, her heart thundering at her bold words and her even bolder plan.

She'd taken three steps toward the horses when he wrapped his hand gently but firmly around her upper arm. He drew her to a halt and turned her to face him. ”Before we return to Holland House, I believe a token is in order, something to seal the start of our new relations.h.i.+p.”

Her heart gave a swift, hard beat. Outwardly, she sent him a cool look. ”We have no relations.h.i.+p. Not yet.”

”Oh, but we do. Otherwise, we wouldn't be standing here alone in this meadow making plans for a secret rendezvous. I want a little taste of what's to come. I deserve that much for my patience, particularly after the performance you put on at dinner last night.”

Ah, yes. The chocolate mousse.

She wanted to tell him he deserved nothing and was going to get exactly that. But if she showed her hand now, her whole scheme would collapse and she would find herself back at the beginning.

She forced a smile. ”What exactly did you have in mind?”

”Nothing elaborate.” He moved closer. ”Just a kiss to tide us over.”

She bit back a curse, wis.h.i.+ng she could put him off. But from what she'd learned about Lord Leopold, he wasn't the sort to be gainsaid, particularly now that she'd given him reason to believe she returned his interest.

”But waiting will only heighten the antic.i.p.ation,” she said, laying a restraining palm on his chest. ”We should resist for now.”

He slid an arm around her waist. ”I don't want to resist. I've been resisting since the night we first met. I say we indulge ourselves instead.”

He tugged her another inch forward so that her body was pressed flush against his.

”Yes, but the first kiss is always so memorable,” she improvised. ”Better to save it for our rendezvous, where we will have time to explore our desires at will.”

”I would rather explore our desires now.” He skimmed a knuckle over her bottom lip, then caught her chin between two fingers. ”You are exquisite, you know.”

He didn't give her the chance to voice another excuse as his mouth lowered swiftly to meet her own.

She fought her natural instinct to stiffen, aware that any reticence on her part might give the game away. It's a kiss, she told herself, forcing her body to relax. How bad can it be?

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