Dance of Seduction (21 page)

“You’ve never been helpless a day in your—” She broke off when he closed his hand over her breast, kneading it through the bodice so skillfully that she moaned. “Oh, my word, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Touching you the way I’ve wanted to for so long,” he murmured, “the way you’ve wanted me to.” As if to prove it, he lifted his other hand to caress her other breast.

Good lack-a-daisy, as Aunt Verity would say. She would surely dissolve into a puddle right here, on the Merringtons’ carpet. “Morgan, you really shouldn’t—”

His mouth covered hers again in the most exhilarating kiss imaginable. Or was it exhilarating because his hands fondled her breasts at the same time, rubbing them in such a
tantalizing fashion that she prayed he’d never stop?

What was wrong with her? She’d always figured that wantonness must have its pleasures for women, or some of them wouldn’t be so willing to throw up their skirts for men. But she’d never expected it to affect
her
this way. Why, she didn’t even
like
Morgan!

No, that wasn’t true. She liked him too well. But not what he represented. Just as he didn’t really like what she represented.

The thought gave her pause. Why was he using all his devilish powers of seduction against her? It couldn’t be because he felt anything for her. No, it must be because of something else…like that day in the shop when he’d kissed her to distract her…

As the painful truth dawned, she jerked her hands from inside his coat to shove him away.

He staggered back, his heavy-lidded eyes glittering with a feral hunger. “What is it,
cherie
?”

“I know why you’re doing this! Touching me and…and making me want you to—Anyway, I know why.”

His hands closed into fists, as if he fought to keep from touching her. “Because I desire you?”

“Because you ‘desire’ to distract me.” She fought to hide her hurt. “A man like you never gives in to urges unless they serve a purpose. And your purpose is to keep me from asking about what’s going on between you and Ravenswood.”

A palpable coldness spread over his features. “So you’ve figured me out, have you?”

She nodded, unable to speak the words for the sick tumult roiling in her stomach.

“I couldn’t possibly just want to taste you,” he said acidly, “or hold you in my arms or for one damned moment feel a connection with another fellow creature. No, not a man like me. Not a heartless criminal.”

The force of his bitterness struck her with guilt. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant.” He glanced away, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

After a moment of wintry silence, she reached for the door lock, but he caught her hand. He braced himself against the door with his other hand as his gaze swept slowly down her body.

The need that leaped in his face was unmistakable. “All right,
ma belle ange
. I suppose you want answers to your questions. Well, contrary to what your suspicious little mind believes, I want to share a few moments of pleasure with you. So here’s my offer—you ask your questions, and I answer them truthfully.”

She started to speak, but he held his finger to her lips. “I’m not finished. For every question I answer, you give me something I want.” He traced her lips with his finger. “A chance to taste you.” He ran his finger past her chin to stroke the length of her neck all the way to her chest, and she shivered with anticipation. “To caress you.” Tucking his finger inside her bodice, he inched it toward her nipple. “To fondle your bare flesh.”

By the time he reached his destination, she ached to have him touch her there. And he knew it, too, for his face held a grim satisfaction as he stroked back and forth over her nipple, teasing her, arousing her. But when some prudent part of her rebelled and she reached up to stay his hand, he said huskily, “Those are my terms. For every answer I give you, you give me a caress or a kiss or…whatever I ask for.”

Whatever he asked for. She was in dire trouble now. Because the very idea made her mouth water.

And confused her, too. Did he truly desire her as much as he claimed? So much that he’d answer her questions? Or was this only another ploy?

“You think I won’t do it,” she whispered. “You think because you ran me off last time with your…outrageous advances, that I’ll let you do it again.”

He merely arched an eyebrow.

“We’re not in your shop now, you know. I’m not at your mercy. I can walk right out of here and…and ask his lordship all my questions.”

Amusement glinted in his eyes. “You’re welcome to try. He won’t answer—I promise you that. But I will.” He bent to press a shameless, open-mouthed kiss to the exposed curve of the breast he’d just touched. Then he lifted his head and cast her a wolfish smile. “If you give me what I want.”

For some reason, her mouth had grown inordinately dry. “You want to ruin me.”

“It needn’t go as far as all that. You can stop me whenever you like. Whenever you’re ready to stop asking questions.”

She hesitated. This “offer” of his sounded risky and downright dangerous, like throwing rocks at a wolf from across a chasm. You never knew when the wolf might surprise you and leap the chasm, pouncing before you could even escape.

Then again, it wasn’t as if they were entirely alone. A mass of society’s most lofty personages swarmed only a few feet away. Aunt Verity would probably come looking for her soon. And Clara could scream for help if things went too far. Someone was bound to hear.

Besides, how else could she make him admit what was going on? Something odd was definitely going on. Morgan dressing as a gentleman and on easy terms with a very powerful viscount? Perhaps this matter of his shop wasn’t quite what she’d thought. She had to have answers.

That was the only reason she’d do this. It had nothing to do with the pounding anticipation in her chest, the hot need pooling in her belly. Nothing to do with all the nights she’d
spent wondering about him and wishing she weren’t alone in her bed.

Steadying herself before she could change her mind, she said, “All right.” The triumph that flared in his gaze made her wonder if she’d been outmaneuvered. She added hastily, “But you have to tell the truth. Because I’ll know if you’re lying.”

He gave a wry chuckle. “I’ve no doubt of that.” Then taking her by surprise, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the nearby chaise longue.

She felt a moment’s panic. “Morgan, what are you doing?”

“I’d prefer to be comfortable for this interrogation, wouldn’t you?”

“I-I suppose.”

But instead of setting her on the chaise longue, he sat down and settled her on his lap. She started to scramble off, but he stayed her by throwing his arm around her waist. “Oh no, my pretty angel, you’re not going anywhere. I want you near enough so I can make sure my part of the bargain is satisfied.”

She cast him an outraged look. “Do you think I’d cheat?”

“Absolutely. Now give me your first question.” He pulled her so close she could see the fine line of his lip, smell his wine-scented breath. And feel the hard bulge swelling beneath her bottom. “As you can tell, I’m more than ready to make my first demand,
cherie
.”

His clear arousal made her heart stammer and her blood run feverishly hot. He truly hadn’t lied about desiring her. This wasn’t only his way of distracting her.

Perversely, while that pleased her, it also furthered her agitation. Now all she could think of was how he might touch her next. So she asked the first, most obvious question that came into her mind. “What were you and Ravenswood talking about?”

“You.” He reached for the edge of her bodice.

“Wait a minute!” she protested, grabbing his hand. “What kind of answer is that?”

His eyes gleamed down at her. “It’s a truthful answer, so it meets all your requirements. And now I get my turn.”

“But…but…”

He didn’t wait for her to finish protesting that such a short, uninformative response raised more questions than it answered. He simply pulled her bodice and chemise down to expose one breast.

She blushed violently, her heart hammering so hard she thought she’d faint. Especially once he touched her. It was much more intense than when he’d fondled her through her gown or even when he’d stroked her bare skin. Just being this exposed to him lent a thrill to his caresses that made her breathless and trembly.

A greedy smile curved his lips as he watched her face, embarrassing her with his eagerness to see her reaction. And when she swallowed her gasps, not wanting him to know how he affected her, he took his time about plumping her flesh, then thumbing her nipple with ardent, silken caresses.

When finally she sighed and gave in to her enjoyment of the sweet sensations, he whispered, “You like that, do you?”

“I don’t recall that your game required
me
to answer questions,” she grumbled.

“Is it so awful to admit that you enjoy my touch?”

Her startled gaze shot to him. He looked uncertain of her, not what she’d expected. “No,” she whispered. “It’s just that no one’s ever touched me…like that before.”

“It’s even better like this,” he murmured, lowering his head toward her breast as if he meant to kiss it.

She should have known a rascal like him would cheat. But she was too quick for him. “Oh no, you don’t.” She stayed
him with her hand. “I only promised one thing at a time, and you’ve had a caress. You don’t get a kiss until you answer another question.”

He lifted his head, his black eyes glittering with both need and frustration. “I can see we’ll be here all night at this rate.”

“
You’re
the one who gave me the barest minimum of an answer. If you want more than the barest minimum of a caress for it, you’ll have to be more forthcoming.”

Irritation flickered in his face. “Has anybody ever told you that you have the soul of a merchant? You bargain more fiercely than a costermonger.”

She smiled. “You were the one who set up this game, you know. I’m merely following the rules.”

“You’re right. And I clearly didn’t lay them out properly. So here’s what we’ll do—you can decide when I’ve answered your next question to your complete satisfaction. But once you have your answer, you must let me kiss or caress you for the full length of the next song the orchestra plays. Does that sound fair?”

The thought of him kissing her breast for three or four minutes struck the breath from her lungs. Yet his request seemed reasonable. They could hear the music in here easily, and at least this gave him a finite restriction on his touching and tasting. She’d simply have to steel herself for the onslaught of feelings he brought whenever he put his hands and his mouth on her. It would be worth it to get the answers she sought.

“I suppose it’s fair enough. But give me a minute to think of my question.”

“Want to get the most for your…kiss, do you?” he said smugly.

“Oh yes.” And she could be as clever in framing her questions as he was in avoiding answering. “You said that you
were discussing me with Lord Ravenswood. What did he tell you about me tonight that you didn’t already know?”

He opened his mouth to answer, then shut it with a scowl.

“Not so cocky when the questions are hard, are you?” she taunted.

His eyes narrowed. “I’ll make you pay for this eventually,
cherie
.”

“Just answer the question.”

A long moment passed. Then he sighed. “All right. Ravenswood told me that you’d reported me and my activities to the magistrate.”

“He did?” she cried. “Why would he do such an awful—”

“Ah, ah, ah, not so fast.” He held his finger to her lips. “That’s another question. And I believe you owe me something before I answer any more.”

She swallowed. She had to admit that he’d told her a very vital piece of information. To claim that it wasn’t good enough to win him his kiss would be grossly unfair. “All right.”

With a grin, he lowered his head. But apparently, it wasn’t a kiss to her breast that he sought. Not exactly. Instead, he took her breast in his mouth and sucked it. Hard. Flicking his tongue against the nipple over and over in the most shocking fashion.

Oh, good Lord. Now he was nipping it, then soothing it with tempting strokes of his tongue that made a slow ache uncurl in her belly and spread throughout her trembling body. She closed her hands in his hair to hold him there, and he obliged her with a rampant eagerness, kissing her breast, laving it, making her feel as if she would come out of her skin if he did much more.

This could get dangerous very quickly, she realized, and she forced herself to listen for the end of the song, not sure how many songs had passed. When seconds later the orchestra grew silent, she could have wept with relief.

“That’s the end.” She pulled his head away. “You owe me another answer.”

For a second, she thought he might not obey her, for he gave her nipple one last teasing nip. Then lifting to her a gaze feverishly bright, he licked his lips like the ravenous wolf that he was. “Ask me another question quick. I’m not even close to being finished with you,
ma belle ange
.”

His words made a naughty excitement surge through her, swamping her senses, frightening her with its force. Perhaps she should end this. Each time he touched her, she lost more of her will to stop him. Even now she couldn’t seem to take her hands out of his glossy, thick hair. She wanted to keep smoothing it, caressing it.

But there was one more answer she needed. At least one more. Curse him, she’d get her answers if it killed her. “Why did Lord Ravenswood tell you that I’d reported you to the magistrate?”

With a low curse, he glanced away, but he didn’t hesitate to answer, speaking in a frenzy as if to be done with it. “Because he and I are friends. I knew him when I was in the navy. He wanted to warn me about your possible interference.”

It took her a moment to absorb that astonishing answer. “Does he know that you’re a fence?” she exclaimed in outrage.

His gaze shot back to her, fiery and seductive. “That’s a new question, angel.”

Good Lord, it was. And she couldn’t honestly say he hadn’t answered the previous one fairly.