‘Unexpected,’ he ground out, voice gravelly, as if he hadn’t used it since she’d seen him last. All around them the room and its occupants seemed to recede, like the background in a theatre when the lights shadowed the actors into a mass. Nothing else existed.
‘You could ask me to dance?’ George slid her hand over the tense muscles of his arm, tugged him towards the swarm of people mincing about the polished floor of the parlour. ‘It would give us something to do besides standing silently while the gossiping hordes look on.’
‘I think I’d rather have you join me for a drink.’ He tucked her hand securely into the crook of his arm and led her towards the refreshment salon.
As they pushed past a raucous game of blind man’s bluff that had spilt into the hall George found herself being yanked into one of the many curtained alcoves scattered throughout the house.
George’s back hit the wall as the curtain swung shut behind them. Dauntry crowded her back into the farthest recess of the small nook. Her skirts took up most of it. Normally it held a very large Chinese vase on a pedestal, but Helen wasn’t likely to leave so likely a spot for dalliance otherwise occupied on a night like tonight.
‘I thought you wanted a drink?’ George tipped her head back, senses swamped with bergamot and heat.
He cupped her chin up with his hand, holding her in place. ‘I want you.’ His thumb swept over her cheek, kidskin slick and soft.
‘You appear to have me.’
He gave a dismissive snort. ‘For as long as I can keep you trapped in this alcove.’ He pressed closer, so large he seemed to fill the small space. ‘If you’d just listen to reason…’ He tongued the lobe of her ear, bit down hard enough to make her gasp.
‘Two nights. That’s what’s left of our bargain.’
‘Oh no, love.’ He ran his thumb over her lower lip and she bit it in revenge, bearing down until she had a firm hold on the seam of the glove. He pulled his hand away slowly, leaving her with the glove. George spat it out. ‘What was the rest of it?’
‘Two nights.’ Her skirts began to rise on one side as he bunched them up with his bare hand. She gritted her teeth, humiliated by how badly she wanted him to touch her. By how much she’d missed him. ‘Two nights. When and where you want them.’
‘What else?’ His naked hand slid over her bare thigh, his tongue curled behind her ear.
‘Nothing…’
‘Something.’ His second hand gripped her hip, thumb digging into her. ‘There was one more stipulation.’
‘Six nights—’
‘And you’re not to offer so much as a kiss to any other man until our bargain’s finished.’
‘Are you claiming a night here and now? In an alcove with nothing but a curtain between us and all of our acquaintance?’ She shivered, excited by the prospect, terrified he might say yes. That she might acquiesce.
He chuckled, nose pressed to the sensitive skin behind her ear, warm breath stirring her hair, hand slipping between her thighs. ‘Not at all. Groping in corners hardly counts.’ He pushed her knees apart with his own and began to circle her clitoris with his fingers.
‘Unless,’ he paused and she gave an embarrassing mewl of protest, ‘unless you were to argue that either one of us being brought to release should count? That would make what I’m doing now very foolish indeed.’
He ran one finger over her and her hips rocked. Insane as it would be, she desperately wanted to reach down, free him from his breeches, and have him take her here, up against the wall. She craved the animal intensity of it.
Her hand slid down his chest, seemingly of its own volition, and suddenly he was pulling away, hands out from under her skirts, tugging the painted silk down to cover her.
‘It’s just occurred to me that the wisest thing I could do under the circumstances is restrain myself.’
‘What do you—’
And then it struck her. He meant that if he left those nights unclaimed he’d own her. He could keep her celibate indefinitely. She would have the choice of acceding to his control or breaking her word.
‘You bastard.’ She shoved him back until he foundered up against the opposite wall, growing even more incensed by his allowing her to do so. He didn’t resist at all. He was that enamoured of his new plan. ‘That’s not what I agreed to.’
‘That’s exactly what you agreed to, my little wanton. And I promise you this: the only way you’ll ever have any other man in your bed will be if you break your word: either our bargain or our marriage vows.’
Beyond response, George stalked out of the alcove, blundered into the middle of the game taking place in the hall, and was immediately caught by the blindfolded Comte de Valy.
He smiled as his hands closed on her waist. ‘I would know that perfume anywhere! It is Mrs Exley.’ The crowd cheered and the young Frenchman removed his blindfold and leaned in to claim his kiss.
From the edge of the crowd Dauntry caught her eye. She turned away and gave the comte a far warmer kiss than the game required.
Valy kept his hold on her as she broke the kiss. ‘As usual, you have on the dress that puts all the others to shame. It is so rare to see an English woman with such Gallic flair. C’est magnifique!’
George smiled and accepted his praise with a nod of her head. Somehow the comte frequently managed to praise and denigrate with a single breath. It was a gift of sorts. But nowhere near as insulting as what Dauntry had just said to her.
Brimstone appeared behind the comte to claim her for their promised set. George took his hand and allowed him to return her to the parlour.
Dauntry was ahead of them, calling
