The duke stayed her hand. 'No, no, dear girl, that vase is one of Josiah Wedgwood's newest creations. I'd prefer if you didn't destroy it in your pique. The answer to your dilemma is really quite simple. You have imagined me as someone you know.
'I don't know how to seduce a man,' Emily said almost sadly.
'Within each woman, my lovely duchess, is the knowledge and the skill to seduce any man she desires,' the Duke of Malincourt said. 'Just this once, dear girl, wouldn't you like to enjoy the Channel as a visitor, and not an observer? Entice this man who attracts you, and you will gain everything you have ever wanted.'
'But I just want to write good books and earn my living.' Emily sighed, sinking back into the big wing chair.
'Unless you write more sexually detailed novels, dear girl, it seems you will not be able to do that. Have you any idea how that sad and woebegone little face of yours cries out to me to kiss you?' he asked her. 'You have been kissed, haven't you?'
Emily nodded, and when she had the duke touched his lips to hers gently.
'You are very sweet, dear girl, and I will admit to longing for more than just the touch of your lips. Seduce the gentleman in question so we may begin our adventure.'
'You say nothing of love,' Emily noted.
'Nor do you,' he replied with a small smile. 'Is there such a thing?'
'I don't know,' Emily answered honestly. She closed her eyes. 'Farewell for now, Trahern.' She sank away, and when she opened her eyes again she was in her own bed. Reaching for the channel changer Emily turned off the television. But she could not sleep. It was close to four a.m., and the sky outside her window was already beginning to grow light. A mourning dove cooed softly in the large pine by the corner of the house nearest her bedroom.
Seduce the man, Trahern had said. All well and good for him, but how the hell was she going to entice Mick Devlin into making a woman of her? To begin with, it had to be totally inappropriate for an author to sexually harass her editor. Still Devlin was, if the gossip was to be believed, a man who could be tempted. She had called her old friend Savannah Banning yesterday afternoon. Savannah also published with Stratford, and lived outside of London with her husband. Savannah knew everything of interest there was to know about in the world. Her curiosity, like her libido, was insatiable. If Mick Devlin had a reputation, she would give Emily the whole story, chapter and verse.
'Em!' Savannah had squealed when she answered the phone in her plummy British accent, flavored with South Carolina. 'How are you? What's the news from New York?'
And Emily had told her.
'So old Rachel has been put out to pasture. Well, high time, darling. Nice as she is, she really is quite past it.'
'Rachel is a wonderful editor,' Emily defended Rachel.
'But Mick Devlin! Darling, you are just the luckiest girl. He's been editing me for several years. If I didn't love being old Reggie's wife so damned much I would have tried for Mick myself. Damn! If he's back in New York who is going to take care of me? I'll probably get stuck with old Prunella Baines-Harrington. She's a decent enough sort, but darling, she is the most booor-ing woman.'
'Tell me about Devlin, Savannah,' Emily said softly.
'What's to tell?' Savannah replied slyly, and then she giggled. 'The women flock to him like flies to jam, darling, but he is very particular about his women. And no one has ever gotten close enough to slip a bridle on him. There was one little Sloan's Ranger who thought she had the inside track until he showed up at her birthday party with a really smashing model. Lady Something-or-other-hyphenated. The birthday girl proceeded to get very drunk, picked a fight with Lady whoever, and got shoved into her own birthday cake for her trouble.' Savannah chortled. 'Why do you ask?'
'I have to work with the man, Savannah, and Aaron told me a story about J.P. and Devlin. I've never worked with a man. Rachel and I got on so well.'
'The story about J.P. and Devlin is true,' Savannah said. 'What else?'
'Stratford won't renew my contract after this book unless I write sexier,' Emily wailed. 'The rumor is that Martin wants to semiretire, but he can't decide into whose hands to put the company, J.P. or Michael Devlin. That's why he was brought back.' She sighed. 'I'm screwed, Savannah. I can't write sexy. And especially for a male editor. I worked perfectly with Rachel. What am I going to do?'
'Darling, I should only be in your slippers,' Savannah said, sighing dramatically. 'What should you do? Throw yourself on his mercy, is what you should do. You're really just his type, you know, Em. You're intelligent, funny, and quite lovely. And I expect he's at that vulnerable age when he might even be considering settling down.'
'What are you saying?' Emily asked her friend, surprised.
'Look, darling, if Mick has to turn you into a sensuous instead of a sweet author, and he fails, the evil J.P. gets Martin's nod. But if he succeeds, Mick will get the company, and you'll both live happily ever after. His future is every bit as much on the line as yours is, Em. Use that to your advantage,' Savannah advised.
'What exactly are you saying, Savannah?' Emily repeated.
Savannah laughed her low, husky laugh. 'You know exactly what I'm saying, Em. Have a love affair with the guy. Seduce him! You might even win a gold ring.'
'Seduce my editor? I wouldn't know where to begin, Sava.'
Savannah laughed harder. 'Sure you do,' she said.
'It's inappropriate!' Emily protested.
'Oh, pooh! If you do it's going to make it all the more fun, especially when you run into J.P. You'll have that glow that a well-fucked woman gets, and she'll know Mick is going at you like a mastiff in heat. But you aren't a girl to kiss and tell. And J.P. won't ask, but it'll kill her anyway.' Savannah choked on her laughter. 'Revenge is so sweet.'
'You are really quite dreadful,' Emily told her, but she was smiling.
'He's a lovely man, darling. Enjoy yourself. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever known a time when you did enjoy yourself with a man. Any man. Either you are the most discreet woman in the world, or…' And then Savannah gasped.
'I have to go, Sava,' Emily said quickly. She did not want to get into a discussion about her virginity with Savannah Banning, whose novels, it was rumored, were printed on fireproof paper. 'Say hi to Sir Reginald for me. Toodles!' And she rang off.
Emily turned restlessly in her bed, and asked herself for the third time just how she, inexperienced as she was, was going to seduce a sophisticated and urbane man like Michael Devlin. And he would be coming to Egret Pointe, to her house, for the weekend in just a few days. And suddenly she heard her grandmother O'Malley's voice as plain as day, saying, 'The way to a good man's heart is through his stomach, Emily.' She almost laughed aloud, remembering how he had gobbled down those two beef-and-cheddar wraps at Felicity's. The man had a good appetite on him.
'I'll bet no woman ever cooked for you, Mick Devlin,' Emily said aloud.
Outside her window a cardinal started calling, and the sparrows in the pine tree were chattering noisily. The clock on her fireplace mantel struck five a.m. She was not going to go back to sleep. Emily sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She had menus to plan for the weekend. And shopping to do. And she would ask Rina and Dr. Sam to dinner Friday night to help her get over any shyness with Devlin. She had a man coming for the weekend whom she had only met once. And she was going to seduce him. Well, she was going to try. With his reputation it would probably be easy. A prime rib, a good red wine. Chocolate mousse or trifle. He would be putty in her hands. If there was one thing Emily Shanski could do as well as write, it was cook.
