Sexy As Hell

“Naturally, I could hire guards, but I’m hoping it won’t come to that. My plan, in which you recently participated, is to so completely ruin my reputation that even Frederick will be forestalled at least in his marriage plans. What other tactics he might employ to make claim on my property Malmsey can handle in court.” Her voice took on a derisive tone. “I doubt he’d be personally moved by this scandal, but fortunately for me he has a domineering mother who prides herself on virtue and decorum.”

“In the scramble for a fortune, people have been known to overlook even the most egregious scandals,” Oz drily said. “How can you be sure your scheme will serve?” He really meant, How can you be so naive?

“I can’t be, of course. Not completely.” She smiled for the first time. “Yet you’ve not met Lady Compton.”

“Actually, I’ve had the misfortune,” he replied with a grimace. “My condolences on your prospective mother-in- law.”

“Bite your tongue,” she retorted. “If all goes well, I shan’t be saddled with her or her despicable son. My little drama, as you call it, will be published in all the scandal sheets tomorrow-without naming my partner, of course, only myself. You are quite safe, you see. Now, if you wish payment, I’d be more than happy to pay you. Money,” she quickly added.

“I don’t need money.” As heir to the largest banking fortune in India he could buy a good share of the world if he wished. And he retracted his naive assessment. The scandal sheets could ruin a lady. Although someone with large gambling debts might overlook even that degree of infamy.

She shifted slightly under his gaze. “Surely you wouldn’t take advantage of a woman.”

“I doubt I’d have to.”

Her brows arched. “Is that unimpeachable certainty usually effective?”

He smiled. “Always.”

“Such arrogance.” She glanced at his crotch. “And yet-I see no visible signs of your interest.”

“I was raised in India. I’m capable of controlling my, er, impulses.” He grinned. “Although, if you’d like to see interest”-he swept his hand downward-“observe.”

The transformation was not only instant but also profound. Wide-eyed, she took in the provocative sight.

“Is that better?” he said, his voice velvet soft.

She slowly wrenched her gaze from the flaunting display, his enormous erection stretching from crotch to navel, his blood pulsing wildly through the tracery of tumescent veins standing out in high relief on his resplendent length. “You’re definitely a flashy fellow,” she said, meeting his amused gaze, fully aware as well of the soft tremors beginning to flutter through her vagina. “Still, I think I’ll restrain myself.”

“At least keep me company for a short while.” His voice was well mannered, his gaze amicable. “Thanks to you, I seem to have missed my assignation. Surely, that’s not too much to ask.” He recognized the look of longing in a woman’s eyes. He knew as well that her taut nipples pressing through the silk of her gown had something to do with his erection and her desires-restrained as they might be. Only temporarily restrained if he had his way. “Would you like a drink? Fremont set out a nice assortment of liquor.”

The smallest of hesitations.

“Why not,” she said, thinking to humor him and better gain her ends.

“Then I’ll be right back, ma’am.” He glanced at her over his shoulder as he slipped off the bed. “Correction… miss.” He casually strolled away as if he wasn’t nude and blatantly aroused, she wasn’t a stranger, and they’d be sharing nothing more than a game of whist when he returned. “You have a choice,” he offered, standing at the liquor tray a moment later. “Sherry, cognac, brandy, or hock.”

“Cognac. Just a little.”

“How are you getting home?” he asked as he poured her drink. “Could I drive you somewhere?”

“No, thank you,” she replied, trying not to stare at his enormous erection. “I believe Malmsey is waiting for me.”

He nodded toward the door through which the surprise party had entered. “Waiting in there?” He preferred not being monitored.

She shook her head. “Downstairs.”

Good. “So does Malmsey know Fremont as well?” he queried, moving back to the bed.

“I’m not sure. He might.”

At least he does now. Fortunately, Fremont was the soul of discretion; Miss Perceval’s intrigue was safe. Not that it should matter to him one way or the other, yet she shouldn’t have to suffer the unwanted machinations of her cousin. Nor should she be required to resort to such drastic measures to retain control of her title and wealth. “Would you like me to call out Compton?” he abruptly asked, handing her a glass. “I could see that he never bothers you again.” While dueling was illegal, it was privately practiced.

The casual certainty in his voice gave her pause and quite inappropriately, pleasure as well. “While I appreciate the offer,” she more prudently replied, “I don’t think it would serve.”

“It would serve perfectly. He’d be dead-not a great loss if you ask me; the man cheats at cards. Your reputation would remain unscathed and”-he grinned as he settled back on the bed and rested against the pillows-“you might be inclined to thank me in some agreeable way.”

She laughed. “I admit there’s a certain appeal to your plan, but, no, I couldn’t be party to something so crass.” If he could urbanely disregard his erection, she should be able to as well.

“As if his wanting to marry you for your money isn’t crass.”

She smiled. “So bloodthirsty, Lennox. Is it your Indian upbringing?”

“Hell no. Dueling is a European foolishness wrapped up in a mantle of honor. In India if you want someone murdered, you hire assassins or a poisoner and have the job quietly done.” He shrugged dismissively. “It’s different here.”

“My goodness. You quite alarm me.”

“No I don’t. Not unless by alarm you mean something else entirely.”

“Such as?”

“Your nipples,” he said, nodding at her breasts; he didn’t mention her veiled glances at his erection. “They’ve been signaling your aspirations for some time now.”

“Aspirations don’t necessarily equate with actions.”

His lashes lowered faintly. “In our case, why not? We’re alone. I’m thoroughly aroused, as you can see,” he politely said as if she hadn’t noticed several times already. “I can tell that you’re not exactly indifferent to me. What’s the point in denying ourselves?”

“So blunt, Lennox,” she sardonically observed. “No sonnets or odes to charm a lady?”

“Ah Love! Could you and I with Fate conspire. To grasp this sorry scheme of things entire. Would not we shatter it to bits. And then remold it to our heart’s desire. I could also recite it in the original Persian if you like.” He smiled. “Is that better now? Or would you like more verses to entice you?”

“I’m not sure I wish to be enticed.”

“Why not? Making love is one of life’s great pleasures.”

“Or sorrows.”

He could have asked, but he didn’t want to know. Even while he understood the merits of asking in terms of facilitating a seduction, he didn’t. There was something about her, a kind of intrepid heroine willing to stand up for her rights no matter the consequences that reminded him of things he’d rather forget. Right and wrong had nothing to do with the reality of the world, he’d discovered. You could be moral to the core and right as rain and no one cared.

He had his own sorrows when it came to love.

All he wanted tonight was sex.

And if not with Nell, Miss Perceval would do.

CHAPTER 2

SLIDING DOWN ON his spine, he rested his glass on his chest and shut his eyes for a moment, suddenly struck