Pleasure Me (3 page)

As more guests arrived, she stepped out of the way to inspect the sides and back of her gown for any unexpected wrinkles. It was more a need for time to collect herself than concern over her dress. The sudden whisper of sensation trailing across the back of her neck made her hand reach up to touch her skin. Satisfied her hair hadn’t unraveled from the knot on top of her head, she turned toward the ballroom. Another frisson skimmed its way over her skin as her gaze met that of a man who casually handed off his overcoat to the household staff without looking away from her.

He was almost a foot taller than her with hair the color of a moonless night. There was something intense and riveting about him. If Allegra thought she had presence, her friend hadn’t met this man. He seemed to dwarf everyone and everything in the entryway. He studied her for what seemed an eternity, yet she knew it was only a few seconds before another man she didn’t recognize drew his attention away. But the stranger’s look was enough to leave her heart racing.

She swallowed hard and gripped her fan tightly. Good lord, she was no longer twenty and attending her first soiree. She flinched at the thought. Suddenly overcome with the need to flee, she forced herself to cross the foyer floor toward the ballroom rather than claim her cape and head back out into the night. The sensation she’d experienced moments ago warmed her neck again, but she refused to turn around to look at the man. She hadn’t come here this evening to find a new paramour.

The moment she reached the ballroom doorway, her courage sagged. She didn’t see a single friendly face in the room. Dear God, where was Allegra? She wasn’t certain she could do this alone. The moment the thought entered her head, she stiffened her back. Her youth might be gone, but not her dignity. She’d hold her head high, and she’d make damn sure no one, not even Marston, would be able to tell how she was feeling inside. As she waited for those in front of her to pass through the receiving line, the tingle at the nape of her neck became a blazing heat.

Lord, it had been years since she’d had this type of a reaction to a man. In the crush of arrivals pushing their way toward the ballroom, the space between them evaporated. He was so close to her that the warmth of his breath singed her shoulder. The sudden image of his hands at her waist, pulling her back into his chest, flashed in her head. The mental picture sent a shudder rippling through her that she was certain everyone around her could see.

Confused by the strength of the sensations assaulting her, she almost stumbled forward in her haste to greet Lord and Lady Somerset. The reception she received was a polite one simply because of her relation to the Marquess of Halethorpe. Her stomach lurched at the thought of her father. She didn’t know whether to despise the man or thank him for sending her down the path she’d chosen so many years ago. Either one was painful to contemplate.

She turned away from the Somersets and slowly descended the steps into the ballroom. Despite her attempts to deny it, she wanted to know the stranger’s name, and as she made her way down the staircase, she heard him introduced as Lord Stratfield. The moment she reached the ballroom floor, a small group of women to her right caught her attention and her heart sank.
Ernestina.
The last thing she wanted was a scene. Desperate to find a friendly face, she strained her neck to see over top of an older woman with three tall feathers sticking up in her hair.

“Once an old cow is put out to pasture, you would think she’d stay there.” Ernestina’s comment sliced deep, and Ruth stiffened as she continued forward. She didn’t get far.

“Lady Ruth, what a delightful surprise to see you here this evening.”

Words failed her as the renewed tingling on the back of her neck ignited a fire that raced across her skin. Dear God, was that the way he always sounded? Like he’d just woken up and was inviting her to sin in ways she’d never dreamed. The wickedly deep, dark note of his voice sucked the air out of her lungs as she slowly turned toward him and extended her hand.

“Good evening, my lord.” She fought to keep her voice steady, and a shiver streaked up her arm as he politely kissed the back of her hand.

“Simplicity becomes you, my lady. I’ve never seen you look so exquisite.”

His gaze suddenly shifted to stare at the ruffles, lace appliqués, and bows adorning Ernestina’s gown. It was a deliberate snub, and everyone within hearing distance knew it. A part of her almost felt sorry for Marston’s new paramour. Still, she experienced a twinge of pleasure to see the other woman’s viciousness silenced, but she was leery of the man’s motives for coming to her rescue. When her eyes met his again, his gaze revealed nothing, but he smiled as he offered her his arm. Her heart immediately skidded out of control.

It was a smile that would be lethal to a woman’s heart if she allowed herself to fall under its spell. She accepted his arm and allowed him to guide her away from Ernestina and her friends. The frisson skimming over every inch of her body made her want to run as far away as she could. This man was far too attractive for his own good, which made him dangerous. Besides, he looked younger than her. A flirtation with him would only serve to make her feel that much older, and she was feeling far too vulnerable tonight.

“While I appreciate your gallantry, my lord, I can assure you I was not in need of rescue.” She heard the catch in her voice and forced herself not to look in his direction.

“It was a sincere compliment. The fact that it served to rescue you was secondary.” The husky note in his voice made her blood flow sluggishly. Lord, but the man was a mesmerist. She caught sight of Allegra and came to a halt. He turned his head toward her, his eyebrow quirking upward in either amusement or curiosity. She couldn’t determine which.

“Then I thank you again. If you’ll forgive me, I see a friend I must greet.” Something flickered in the depths of his vivid blue eyes, and it made her mouth go dry. Lord Stratfield bowed his head in her direction.

“A pleasure, my lady. I look forward to our next meeting.”

There it was again, that husky note of sin in his voice. Her chest tightened in reaction. Blast it, she was acting like a woman half her age. She was too well seasoned to allow herself to be affected so easily. She swallowed hard and gave him a slight nod as she fled his side. And she
was
fleeing. She was crossing the floor entirely too fast, not in her usual restrained manner. Despite reaching the safety of her small circle of friends, her pulse was still racing. Allegra offered her a small hug then stepped back to study her with a look of concern.

“Good heavens, you’re shaking.”

“It’s nothing, simply nerves.”

“Are you certain it’s not a devilishly handsome stranger that has you in a dither?” The amusement in Allegra’s voice sent a wave of heat into her cheeks.

“Of course not.” She sniffed with irritation as her friend eyed her with skepticism, but chose not to question her.

“You look stunning. I knew Dolores would make this dress a work of art. And the petals bordering the hem . . . it’s a masterpiece at saying the man isn’t good enough to kiss the hem of your gown.”

“Let me add to my wife’s observations, my lady.” The Earl of Pembroke offered her a slight bow. “You look enchanting.”

“Thank you both.”

“Might I add my own compliments as well, my dear? Everyone is talking about how radiant you look tonight.” The warm voice of Lord Westleah drifted over her shoulder, and she turned around with a smile of delighted surprise.

“William. How lovely to see you again.”

He greeted Allegra and the earl with warmth before turning back to her and leaning down to kiss both her cheeks. It had been months since they’d last seen each other, and to see him here tonight reminded her how long ago it had been since they’d first met. She pushed the thought aside as she stared up at her old lover.

“It’s been far too long, Ruth. How have you been?”

“Quite well.”

She forced a smile as she saw him narrow his gaze at her. Westleah knew her well, and could easily see through the façade she’d deliberately thrown up for the evening’s event. She was grateful when he didn’t press her. As Allegra and the earl turned away to greet another couple, Westleah eyed her carefully.

“How do you know Baron Stratfield?” The question caught her by surprise, and she darted a quick look at her champion, engrossed in a conversation with several gentlemen across the room.

“I don’t. He overheard a rather nasty comment directed at me when I arrived and rescued me from further insult.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. He’s a decent fellow. Rarely takes offense at anything except the mistreatment of others.”

Allegra turned back to them at that moment, and her friend tipped her head to one side in a questioning manner. “What doesn’t surprise you, Westleah?”

“Lord Stratfield. It seems he rescued Ruth from some rather unpleasant gossip when she first came into the room.”

“Do you mean the handsome gentleman headed our way?”

Allegra’s question made her turn her head toward the last place she’d seen Lord Stratfield. To her astonishment, the man was coming toward them. No, her. He was heading directly toward
her
. Instantly, her palms felt clammy and her heart was pounding a hard rhythm against her chest. What in heaven’s name was she going to say to him? The question irritated her. Had she suddenly lost her wits? The art of flirtation was something she’d excelled at for years. Now suddenly one man had her doubting herself. No, it wasn’t him. The break with Marston had shaken her confidence. Nothing more.

Not to mention Lord Stratfield had to be at least five years younger than her, although there was something about his mannerisms that made him appear older than his years. She winced inwardly. Her interest in him was bordering on the absurd. The strains of a waltz faded into the background as her body hummed a melody all its own the moment the man joined them.

Westleah dealt with the introductions before excusing himself to speak with another friend, and in seconds Allegra had dragged her husband away to greet other guests. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought the entire thing was staged to leave her alone with Lord Stratfield. The silence stretched between them for a long moment before he cleared his throat.

“Might I have this dance, my lady?” The low sound of his voice skimmed along her senses as she struggled to reply in a quiet, reserved manner. Instead, she simply nodded, then placed her hand in his. A moment later he whirled her out onto the dance floor. The electricity pulsing its way through her was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Not even Westleah had affected her this way. Frustrated by her faltering composure, she straightened her spine. For more than twenty years she’d perfected the art of seduction, and she refused to let this man reduce her to a state of confusion, especially when he was younger than her.

“How is it we’ve never met until this evening, my lord?” She offered him a small well-practiced smile.

“When it comes to events such as this, I’ve seen far too many of my acquaintances ensnared in the spiderweb of some mother with a marriageable daughter. I prefer my freedom.” His straightforward response made her laugh. He smiled with a hint of satisfaction.

“Good, I’ve made you laugh. It suits you.”

As much as she wanted not to, it was impossible to keep the heat from flooding her cheeks. The man was far too charming, and it was irritating to know how susceptible she was to him. She breathed in his clean, woodsy scent, and her heart skipped a beat. Even at the most base levels her body responded to him. When she didn’t say anything, he studied her with an intense look that sent a shiver racing down her spine.

“The man’s a fool.”

There was a dark note of outrage in his voice, and she stumbled. He immediately pulled her closer as she collected her wits.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Marston. The man needs his head examined.”

“Oh.” Forcing a smile to her lips, she gave him a brief nod. “And I should have
my
head examined for ever having been seen with the man.”

He released a soft laugh that drifted across her skin like sinful velvet. His large hand in the middle of her back pressed her into him even tighter. As the heat and scent of him filled her senses, she found it difficult to breathe normally. A primitive rhythm hummed in her blood, and her mouth was so dry not even champagne could wet her tongue enough. She tried desperately to regain control of her senses.

“And I’m certain there are many here tonight who are delighted to know that your heart is no longer occupied,” he murmured as the music came to a halt.

Slowly letting her go, he stepped back from her as she sank into a low curtsy. His words eased her bruised feelings for only a split second before she realized he hadn’t included himself in the compliment. Why would he ask her to dance if he had no interest in pursuing her acquaintance?

Confused, she frowned. What was it Westleah had said? The man rarely took offense except at the mistreatment of others. Anger slashed through her. Damn him. The bastard had asked her to dance out of pity. She came upright and snapped her fan open to flutter it quickly in front of her then collapsed it again in a sharp movement.

“Thank you for your second rescue attempt this evening, my lord. But in the future, please note that I neither want nor appreciate your interference in my affairs.”

Without giving him the opportunity to respond, she swept away from him with her back ramrod straight. The insolence of the man. She was more than capable of looking after her own interests. And she certainly didn’t need any man treating her like a lost cause.

The fist connecting with the Right Honorable Lord Stratfield’s jaw sent his head flying backward. Garrick could taste the blood in his mouth, and he quickly stepped to one side to avoid another blow from his opponent. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Worthington’s fist heading toward him and quickly ducked before sending his own fist upward into the man’s lower jaw. Somewhere in the back of his head, Garrick heard the sound of cheers and jeers from the men forming the circle around him and Worthington.