Seduction in Mind

to the conversation, watching Alex's response, trying to gauge the extent of her boredom against the protocol of leaving before the prince. Personally, he cared little for Wales's sense of consequence, but Miss Ionides had given him the impression she proceeded with less rashness.

He entered the conversation when Princess Louise began discussing Edgar Boehm's newest sculpture. [2] A sculptor herself as well as Boehm's lover, the princess was waxing eloquent on the portrait he'd recently completed of her mother's servant, John Brown. [3]

'Did the John Brown sculpture appear at the Academy show?' Sam asked.

'Yes. It received much acclaim,' Princess Louise proudly replied, always a spirited advocate of her lover's work.

Sam smiled. 'As did your work, Princess, I hear. The Times said your Daphne was a triumph.'

'They were kind in their praise,' she noted modestly. 'Have you seen the show, Lord Ranelagh?'

'Only quickly, I'm afraid.'

'Then you must go again. Even Mama has gone twice.'

'Perhaps I might. Has anyone been lucky at the track today?'

Immediately, a collective sigh of relief seemed to emanate from the group, and several people quickly responded. Everyone was aware of the princess's unhappy marriage to the Marquess of Lome, who was homosexual, so her interest in Boehm was understandable, but the possibility of inadvertently speaking out of turn on either subject always made for a certain awkwardness. Racing was so much more comfortable a topic. As the conversation became animated, Sam was able to approach Alex with apparent casualness.

'You should have been a diplomat, Lord Ranelagh,' Alex observed, Sam's finesse worthy of praise. 'Everyone finds it difficult to discuss Boehm with the princess.'

'You included?'

'Of course. One must agree with her or bear her displeasure, and while the man has talent-' She shrugged.

'It's his other talents that charm the princess.'

'No doubt.'

'Speaking of such talents,' he said, smiling.

She surveyed him, a half-smile barely curving her mouth. 'You're persistent at least.'

'Did you think I wouldn't be?'

'I didn't think of you at all, my lord,' she replied, perjuring herself in self-defense.

'While you quite effectively ruined my peace of mind and my night.'

'You spent the night alone, then?' she noted archly, recognizing the weariness of debauch when she saw it.

He hesitated.

'I dislike men who lie.'

His teeth flashed white in a smile. 'How do you feel about evasion?'

'So you weren't alone, as if I didn't know.'

'Were you?'

'No.'

He was surprised at the degree of his annoyance. 'Did you enjoy yourself?' he drawled.

'Did you?'

'No,' he said brusquely, unsure why he chose to be honest. 'I didn't.'

'My condolences, then. My three-year-old nephew and I enjoyed ourselves immensely. He likes when I read him stories about animals that talk.'

'You're a bloody little bitch,' he said, but his smile matched the amusement in her eyes.

'That's no concern of yours, is it?'

'I could make it my concern.'

'You can't without my leave.'

'Why is that?'

Her large eyes seemed to grow larger. 'Do you always assert your authority, Lord Ranelagh?'

'Rarely.'

'Don't even think of doing it with me.'

He smiled. 'Am I supposed to be intimidated?'

'Cautioned perhaps. I don't take kindly to coercion.'

'You might like it. St. Albans and Courts were older, weren't they?'

'This conversation is over,' she said tartly.

'I only meant in play, Miss Ionides. Think about it.'

'Go to bloody hell,' she said in an undertone, and walked away.

He should have been more tactful, and if it had been anyone else, he probably would have been. But she provoked him-an oddity in a woman-and if he were inclined to introspection, he might say her pronounced independence served as some benighted challenge. But he wasn't introspective, nor was he easily daunted when lured by such flagrant sensuality. Nor was he unaware of the contradiction between her words and her heated gaze.

A shame she wouldn't allow herself to do what she wished to do.

A shame he wasn't more patient.

Damn his conceit, Alex reflected hotly, her long-legged stride indication of her anger. Ladies didn't stride, or at least they didn't in these cursed tight skirts, she furiously thought, easing into a more sedate gait, searching the crowded enclosure for a quiet corner in which to compose herself. Whenever she was in Ranelagh's presence, she found herself exasperated by his unabashed cheekiness, disturbed by his brazen virility, reminded as well-the disconcerting voice inside her head whispered-that his extraordinary talents in bed were the stuff of legend.

Damn gossip.

Damn his blasted beauty.

Damn Leon, who had contributed to her unusual celibacy-the practical reason, she assured herself, of her too- ardent attraction to the viscount.

She really would have to go and see young Harry, she decided. Considering her ungovernable desires, it was the only sensible course-once she could see her way clear of all these people. Finding a deserted area near the box rail, she pretended to watch the racing horses below. On the other hand, her contrary voice persisted, she could take Ranelagh up on his blunt invitation, join him in bed, and be done with it.

Perhaps his reputation was highly overrated and unjustified, the result of hearsay and tittle-tattle. She drew in a sustaining breath and contemplated the possibility with satisfaction. Wouldn't that be fine. And she'd take great pleasure in telling him so afterward.

Afterward…

Good God… was she actually considering it?

The cheers erupting around her went unattended as she weighed the dramatic consequences. Could she, would she… would he be boorish-or not? What if he actually lived up to his exalted reputation? Where would that leave her? Discarded like all the rest, for he'd not been a pattern card of constancy since his disastrous marriage. Or before it, for that matter.

'Don't be angry with Sam. He's really very nice.'

Alex turned to find Lillie Langtry smiling at her.

She grimaced faintly. 'Did he send you?'

The tall, beautiful redhead glanced at the group of men around the Prince of Wales, Sam among them. 'He doesn't need advocates.' Her eyes gleamed with amusement. 'Or at least not until now. And he would think me interfering if he knew what I was saying. But the darling boy is smitten with you.'

'He said that?'

Lillie smiled again. 'Of course not. I doubt the word's in his vocabulary. It's my perception only. I thought you'd