Fascinated

That fired her up. 'I'll have you know I had an excellent education,' she retorted indignantly. 'Just not in the more- carnal-things in life. You are supposed to give me the… the Grand Tour.'

'Believe me, I'll love to give you the grand tour,' Jeremy muttered, 'but that's neither here nor there to your desire to attract Marcus Raulton. Which, by the way, is totally incomprehensible to me.'

'Truly? But it is so simple: he's rich, well-favored, romantic, and interesting. A woman of spirit and intelligence could never be bored by him. Which is as reasonable a basis for marriage as any other I know. Do you not think, Jeremy?'

'I think I don't want to think,' Jeremy said with teeth-clenching restraint. 'It's enough to know that you are the veriest innocent and you are playing with fire when it comes to Raulton.'

'Then I will get burned. But I will have him, by hook or by crook. And if you won't help me, I warrant he can teach me to kiss as well as anyone else.' She slanted a derisive look at him. 'Certainly as well as you.'

And there he was, between the devil and the dawn, with his honor at the sticking point. How easily her taunting words rolled off her tongue. He could think of better things to do with it than just sit and listen to her. But he couldn't just take her. So it was time for some decisive action.

It was a calculated risk, granted, but he knew how to handle skittish virgins who were too full of themselves, in spite of what she thought.

'Fine,' he said, levering himself out of the wing chair.

Immediately she was up and on her feet. 'What do you mean fine?'

'I mean, make your proposition to anyone else-or Mr. Raulton, if you must. It is nothing to me.'

This was not going the way she had thought, and how was it that Jeremy was giving up on Reginald's scheme already? Blast him.

But perhaps he wasn't. Perhaps he was playing the opposite field to bring her up to the fore. What was this game? Was she not in charge? He couldn't just change the rules. Blast it, she would be in charge.

'Jeremy…'

He held up his hand. 'Don't play at cross purposes with me, Regina. I'm not some choice spirit you can wind around your little finger.'

'So I see,' she murmured.

'Perhaps we know each other too well,' Jeremy went on, ignoring that. 'Perhaps it was ill-considered of me to consent to such folly.'

He was leaving, he was leaving. Blast, blast and blast. How would she, how could she stop him…?

She swallowed, hard. 'Perhaps we should try again…'

He stopped in mid-step. 'Excuse me?'

'I said, perhaps we-I-should try again.'

'Try…?' He wanted to make this as hard as possible for her.

'… kissing…'

'Kissing. Kissing? You who quaked and trembled and rubbed your lips as if you had kissed a frog, you want to kiss me-again?'

'Jeremy-don't…'

'My lady wants to humiliate me yet again?'

'Jeremy…'

'You don't know your own mind, Regina. If you can't bear to kiss even me, however are you going to deal with Raulton?'

How, indeed, Regina thought mordantly, watching him warily. She couldn't tell just which way his sentiments lay or how he would react if he knew Raulton was beside the point altogether.

'That is what I want you to teach me,' she said, reasonably, she hoped.

He wasn't feeling reasonable-or responsible, even. He was feeling primitive, brutal. Male. 'High-strung virgins don't ap-peal to me-or to any man,' he growled. 'You wonder why men keep mistresses. Here is a case in point. Mistresses freely want a man, and never shrink from any sensual experiences with him. A mistress welcomes him and offers herself to him for his pleasure.

'Why would any man waste his time and energy coaxing and coddling a cowering innocent when his mistress will willingly give him everything he wants? Things you can't even imagine, my lady. Things that would put you in a dead faint for a week if they were demanded of you.'

Oh, that was cold-blooded. He had shocked her, as he had intended, and more than that, even. She was as still as a statue, her eyes blazing, and some devil in him pushed him to elaborate further.

'And that's the reality of it, and something that can't be taught. Raulton must keep a half dozen mistresses with whom you cannot hope to compete. Give it up now, and eventually some dandy with exquisite sensibilities and no animal desires will ride up on his white horse and carry you off and immure you in the castle where no one will ever have to touch you-or kiss you.'

She felt as if she had turned to stone. She hated him. She hated the game. All she wanted in that fraught moment was to be a mistress, a woman who was versed in the erotic arts, and who knew exactly how to fascinate and keep a man.

'Do you have a mistress?' she asked tightly.

'I think that is none of your business.'

'Do you?'

He turned away. This was the last thing he thought he would have to confess. 'What if I did?'

'And yet you consented to teach me…'

'A game, my lady. Men play it all the time.'

Didn't they just? she thought furiously. They did the dirty with some delicious and willing woman, and they put every other woman up on a pedestal. But not her. Not her.

'Then let's play, Jeremy.' Her voice was strung as taut as a bow. 'I have too much at stake and too little time. I want you to kiss me.'

'Do you take me for a fool?'

'Kiss me, Jeremy.'

Was he a fool? What man would turn down Regina, even at the cost of some wounded pride?

But then-there was his promise to Reginald to distract and divert, and they were at a convergence of wants and needs. It was just amazing how a man could find an excuse to do anything he wanted to do.

'Then come to me, Regina.'

She almost thought she couldn't move. Her body felt stiff and awkward, but it was fueled by a new unexpected resolve, one that had nothing to do with Raulton or revenge. And so she put one foot after the other and went toward him, at his command.

'And now what, Jeremy?'

She looked as though she was going into battle with her blazing eyes and challenging words. He had a latent urge to conquer her, to subdue her, and make her beg.

Could he? The thought intrigued him. Would he?

He reached out and cupped her chin. 'You're very beautiful, you know.'

'That's not what I want to know,' she said sharply.

'No. You want all the secrets, now. Things learned through my life's experience bedding women. You had better lower your sights, my lady. You can't know everything and you can only take one step at a time.'

But she wanted to jump in headfirst and mire herself in a swamp of sensuality. 'Then take the step, Jeremy,' she said, her voice husky. 'I'm waiting.'

The magic words. I'm waiting. She could see it in his eyes. A man liked to have a willing woman waiting. One secret to stash away and examine when she was alone.

He tilted her head, holding her head immobile between his hands. Big hands, she noted distractedly. Warm hands.

He lowered his head. 'It's more elegant this way; we won't bump noses. And then, as I approach you, you must open your mouth to receive me.' He came closer and closer still, his gaze hooded, watching her response and reaction, and the emotion warring in her eyes.

I'm waiting. Every part of her must be waiting no matter how she felt. Another