'Faster!' Isabella ordered.
Dermott leaped down the short bank of stairs and ran in pursuit.
'Hurry!' Averting her gaze, she stared straight ahead.
For only brief moments more.
And then Dermott jumped onto the carriage step, swung over the low-slung side of the landau, and dropped into the seat opposite her. 'Were you bored with Mariana's singing?' he lazily inquired as though his sudden appearance didn't warrant comment.
'Get out.' Her voice was unutterably chill.
'Not likely.' He spoke without a scintilla of ire.
'I'll have you thrown out.'
He glanced at the young groom and old driver. 'Not by them,' he calmly replied, making himself comfortable. 'So tell me, what have you been doing?'
'Forgetting you,' she rudely said.
'A shame,' he murmured, 'when I recall our friendship with the greatest of pleasure.'
'That's because your friendships, as you call them, are always suited to your particular interest and schedule.'
He smiled. 'I could endeavor to be more accommodating if you wish.'
'I
'Might I persuade you to change your mind?' Mocking insinuation warmed his eyes.
'Tired of Mrs. Compton, are we?'
'Have you been enjoying your various suitors?' he blandly inquired.
'You seemed very friendly with the duchess's soprano,' she countered.
'I hear Lonsdale's about to propose.'
'Then you know more than I,' she crisply remarked. 'I haven't seen Lord Lonsdale for days.'
'Perhaps he's rehearsing his proposal to make it suitably sincere when he asks for your hand and fortune.'
'While you have no need of money? Is that what you're not so subtly implying?'
'What I need from you, Miss Leslie,' he murmured, 'is without price.'
'And also not available to you.'
'We'll see.'
His smile was gratingly assured. 'No, we won't,' she ascerbically noted. 'And I'd thank you to leave me in peace.'
'Do I disturb you?' he asked with unctuous good humor.
'Not in the least. I'm busy, that's all.' She leaned forward to speak to her driver. 'John, Bond Street, please.' She had no intention of going home if he was to follow her in. Better a public venue.
'Ah, a lady's major entertainment. Shopping.'
'Unlike yours, my lord.' She settled back in her seat, her raking gaze as insolent as his. 'You prefer more personal amusements.'
'I wouldn't discount the personal nature of some ladies' shopping experiences,' he drawled.
She blushed, recalling the illustrations in Molly's book. 'I'm sure I don't know what you're alluding to.'
'I could show you if you like,' he silkily offered.
'No, thank you.'
'Why don't I tag along anyway.' His grin was cheeky. 'In the event you change your mind.'
'You may disabuse yourself of that notion. Under no circumstances will I change my mind.' Her voice, intended to be sharp, wavered minutely at the end when Dermott recrossed his legs, and for a fraction of a second his arousal was evident.
An irrepressible heat flared inside her, a flutter rippled through her vagina as though her body automatically responded to the sight of his erection. Clasping her hands tightly together in her lap, she steeled herself against the sudden turbulent desire.
A few moments later, when the carriage came to rest midway down Bond Street, ignoring her protests Dermott helped her descend, the warmth of his hand, the firmness of his grip, heightening her agitation.
Fully aware of her response, practiced at gauging female arousal, he tucked her hand under his arm, and holding it securely, began strolling with her down the busy street.
In desperation, she entered the first shop they passed, needing to separate herself from his searing closeness, distance herself from the familiarity of his powerful body and all it provoked in terms of heated memory. Once inside, however, she found herself disastrously in a shop awash with lingerie. Every conceivable style of chemise and petticoat, nightgown and robe, was displayed, the silken garments, the intimate implications of the apparel, bringing a blush to her cheeks.
'May I help you?'
She looked up into the handsome face of a young, virile man, and recall of Molly's erotic book came shockingly to life. 'I'm… that is-I'm just… looking at the moment.' Were there no female employees in the shop? Quickly glancing around, she found none and turned to leave.
Dermott's grip tightened. 'Show us some petticoats. Lace ones,' he said with a quiet authority. Turning to Isabella, he pleasantly smiled, as though he weren't holding her captive. 'White lace becomes you.'
Under the clerk's regard, Isabella curtailed her impulse to scream at him. 'Perhaps we could do this some other time,' she replied coolly.
'No time like the present, darling.' Dermott's grasp was unyielding.
'But,
'You know I'm her favorite.' His grin held a distinct impudence. 'She'll overlook our late arrival. That one, I think,' he added, indicating with a nod to the clerk a frothy confection of chantilly lace. 'And the pink one over there.'
Disregarding her resistance, he drew her toward a bank of curtained alcoves. 'You can try them on in here.' Apparently familiar with the layout of the store, he pulled back an elegant drapery and stepped aside so the clerk could set the two garments on a small table. 'This shouldn't take long.' Directing a nod at the young man, he pulled Isabella inside and closed the curtain.
'How dare you!' she heatedly whispered, jerking her hand away from his relaxed hold, wondering if she dared run.
'I wouldn't suggest it,' he murmured as though he could read her mind. 'You wouldn't make it to the door.'
'The clerk is an accomplice?' she hissed, her gaze hot with resentment.
'Let's just say he knows how best to earn his living.' [7]
'From you?'
He shrugged. 'Try on a petticoat,' he suggested as though she weren't bristling with umbrage. Dropping onto a convenient chaise, he offered her a sweet smile. 'I'll buy them for you; I'll buy out the store for you.'
'You can't mean to go through with this!' Her voice was deliberately muted, but her rage was unmistakable.
'With what?' His expression was innocent.
'I'm not in the mood for your games, damn you!'
'What are you in the mood for?
She drew in a steadying breath, his query uncomfortably relevant. 'You just have to appear and I'm supposed to immediately succumb to your charm?'
'I don't think either one of us is much interested in charm right now.' He lounged in a lazy sprawl, his erection blatant even in the subdued light. 'Are we?'
She wondered if he could hear the powerful throbbing between her legs.
'You're flushed,' he said, his voice exquisitely mild.
He knew. 'What do you have in mind?' she snapped. 'Five minutes and then we'll be on our way?'
'I doubt you'll be satisfied with five minutes,' he gently said. 'As I recall, you always wanted more… and more'-he smiled-'and more.'
