Pleasure Me (36 page)

Suddenly, the game she’d proposed only a few moments ago had taken on a completely different meaning. Garrick truly was an exemplary student. If she didn’t take care her heart would belong to him completely. Her mouth went dry at the thought. No, she wouldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t afford to. This time the small flame inside her breast was easy to extinguish.

They spoke little during the short ride to the Rothschild residence in Mayfair. It seemed Garrick had apparently decided to begin their game ahead of schedule. He seemed to take enormous pleasure just watching her, which made her nerves tingle with a mixture of pleasant apprehension and excitement.

There was something thrilling about the way he’d taken control of the situation. Her tutoring had simply intensified the masterful side of him that she’d seen in his day-to-day activities. The carriage rocked to a halt, and Garrick assisted her out of the vehicle with his hand supporting her elbow.

As she reached the sidewalk, his fingers brushed across the side of her breast in a seemingly innocent graze. Her gaze flew to his, and the heated look he sent her said his touch had been anything but an accident. As the carriage door snapped closed behind them, he bent his head toward her.

“Let the game begin.”

The velvety note of seduction in his voice was disturbing enough, but the warmth of his breath against her ear heightened the sensation. Excitement spiraled down into her belly then moved lower until she ached to feel him inside her. It was the same type of feeling she’d experienced the night they’d first met.

The frisson skimming its way across her skin set her heartbeat racing as he escorted her up the wide, marble front steps of the Rothschild mansion. Tonight her pupil clearly intended to apply his tutoring toward a goal she was certain would bring her enormous pleasure.

Once inside, Lady Rothschild greeted them warmly. They were quickly separated as Baron Rothschild pulled Garrick away to join a discussion of finance in another part of the room. As her hostess turned to greet a new arrival, Ruth saw Allegra across the room. With a warm smile she moved toward the Countess of Pembroke. Her friend was in the middle of a conversation with another guest, but the minute she saw Ruth, she excused herself and hurried forward. Allegra beamed at her as she released Ruth from her embrace.

“Look at you! Lord Stratfield is obviously good for you. You look stunning.” The delight in her friend’s voice made her smile.

“Well, I won’t deny I’m happy.”

“You’re
radiant
, Ruth. There’s no other word for it.” Allegra’s words were adamant. “And you deserve happiness.”

“I shall accept it for the time I have it,” she said quietly. Her friend shot her a look of admonishment as she looked over Ruth’s shoulder then frowned with annoyance.

“Blast, I was hoping she hadn’t been invited this evening.”

Allegra’s irritable exclamation made Ruth look over her shoulder. She stiffened as she saw the latest arrival entering the Rothschilds’ salon. Louise Campton. Ever since the Viscount Bexhill had left Louise to pursue Ruth, the woman had gone out of her way to be as vicious as she could toward her.

Generally, the woman’s verbal snipes were of little consequence, except when Louise took pleasure in commenting that Ruth’s mother was a whore. The woman deserved to be slapped, but Ruth knew her mother would have expected her to simply walk away. Beside her, Allegra sniffed her disapproval.

“I don’t know what Emma sees in that woman. Louise Campton is interested in one thing and one thing only, any man she can coax into her bed.”

“Lady Rothschild is kind and thoughtful. I think she sees the good in everyone.”

“No doubt,” Allegra said with a sharp nod. “But one must look long and hard to see the good in Louise Campton.”

Ruth didn’t reply as she watched the woman make a beeline toward Garrick. Her heart sank at the radiant smile her nemesis flashed at him. Jealousy snagged its way through her as he returned the woman’s smile. Dear God, would he apply his newfound talents on the younger woman?

She saw Garrick glance her way, and the astute look he sent her caused her heart to sink.
He knew.
He knew she was jealous of Louise. Heat stung her cheeks as she abruptly turned away from him. If this was the type of game he intended to play, she wanted no part in it. Suddenly, she found herself wishing the evening was over, and it was with a sense of relief she heard the butler announce supper.

To her dismay, Lady Rothschild asked Garrick to escort Louise Campton into the dining room, while Ruth was paired with an older gentleman who was a business acquaintance of the baron’s. Throughout the meal, she struggled to keep her eyes off Garrick, but it was impossible to avoid doing so completely.

Once or twice when she glanced his way, their eyes would meet, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Worse, the moment Louise saw Garrick looking in her direction, the woman would immediately distract him. Over the years, Ruth had worked hard never to be jealous of a patron’s interest in another woman, and she didn’t like knowing she’d failed where Garrick was concerned.

Jealousy was a foreign concept to her, and the intensity of the pain it could cause startled her. It was extremely unpleasant. The grating sound of Louise’s laughter at the opposite end of the table pulled her gaze back to the woman and Garrick. He seemed enthralled by Louise, and it sent a fiery anger streaking through her veins. The woman laughed again, and Ruth had a sudden urge to push her head into the crème brûlée they’d just been served.

Unable to bear watching the woman flirt with Garrick any longer, she turned her attention back to the gentleman who’d escorted her into dinner. The man’s conversation had been tediously boring throughout the meal, but it was a far better pain to bear than watching Louise Campton attempting to seduce Garrick. Especially when it seemed as though she was succeeding.

Shortly after the last course of the meal, Lady Rothschild invited the ladies to join her in the parlor while the gentlemen enjoyed an after dinner drink. Ruth didn’t bother looking in Garrick’s direction as she left the room, but she could feel his eyes on her.

As she followed the women back toward the parlor, she had the sudden urge to plead a headache and leave before the men rejoined them. But Louise Campton would notice, and she wasn’t about to let her know she was upset by Garrick’s interest in the woman.

A footman politely stopped her.

“My lady.” The young man offered her a note and stepped back to wait patiently as she opened it up.

I wish to see you. Now.
While the note was unsigned, she was reasonably certain it was from Garrick. It looked like his handwriting, although his previous notes had never been so authoritative, but this—this missive was an order. She could read it in the hard, bold strokes of the ink. When had she become his to command? Especially when he’d been so attentive to Louise Campton. She raised her head, and the footman immediately stepped forward, clearly expecting her to do as the note bid.

“If you’ll follow me, my lady. His lordship is waiting.”

“Tell his lordship he can continue to wait,” she snapped and returned the note to the footman with a sharp thrust of her hand. She turned on her heel, only to have the footman touch her arm.

“Forgive me, my lady, but Lord Seymour was most insistent. He said he has information regarding Lord Stratfield.”

“Lord Seymour?” For the first time, she wondered if she’d mistaken Garrick’s handwriting for someone else’s. She stretched out her hand. “Let me see the note again.”

The footman handed her the note in silence, and she frowned as she tried to determine whether she’d been wrong. She didn’t know a Lord Seymour, nor did she remember being introduced to him. But if she was wrong and it wasn’t Garrick summoning her, it might be someone who wanted to hurt him. And no matter how angry she was that he’d been so engrossed with Louise Campton, she wouldn’t let anyone hurt him if she could help it.

As the last of the women disappeared through the doorway she silently gestured for the servant to lead the way. The footman guided her deeper into the Rothschild mansion, stopping in front of a nondescript door and opening it for her. She walked into a small office dimly lit by a tiny gaslight on the far wall. Centered in the middle of the room was a large desk, while several tall cabinets lined the walls.

It was difficult to see much of anything in the near darkness as she moved toward the center of the room. She’d almost reached the desk when she heard the door close behind her and the key turn in the lock. Startled, she whirled around and raced toward the door. Grasping the doorknob, she shook it in a futile attempt to open the door. Fear nipped at her as she slapped her palm against wood.

“Come back and open this door,” she called out. “Do you hear me? Let me out of here this instant.”

She pounded at the door in anger. Whoever had arranged for her entrapment might find it amusing, but she didn’t. Not one bit. Lord Seymour indeed. A sudden tingle on the back of her neck made her stiffen as she suddenly realized she wasn’t alone. Before she could turn and face them, a warm body pressed into her back and gently crushed her against the beveled panels of the walnut door.

The woodsy scent of sandalwood filled her nostrils as resentment spiraled its way into her muscles and she stiffened. Garrick. He’d tricked her. She tried to turn and face him, but he held her fast. His hands forced hers to lie flat against the walnut door, while he braced his body against hers in a manner that stirred her arousal despite her irritation with him. She tried to slide out from underneath him once again, incensed by her body’s reaction.

“Don’t fight me, my lady. We both know Stratfield is likely to be jealous if he knows you’ve been with another man.”

One cheek resting against the door, she could barely see him out of the corner of her eye, but the husky sound of his voice caressed her like an invisible piece of velvet. Furious at her inability to feel nothing at his touch, she angrily latched onto his ludicrous statement in an effort not to succumb to the desire threatening to take over her body.

To even suggest that he’d be jealous at the thought of her with another man was ridiculous. He’d been so busy flirting with Louise Campton, he’d paid no notice to her at all. The memory of his attention to the other woman fired her anger again.

“I’ve been watching you all evening.”

“I find that highly unlikely.” She sniffed with umbrage. The bastard had been too preoccupied with someone else. Her teeth clenched at the thought.

“Unlikely?” A quiet laugh breezed across the back of her neck. “You barely ate your meal, you toyed with your necklace throughout the evening, and you had no idea that you are the most beautiful woman here tonight.”

She stiffened against the door. Had he truly been watching her after all? Impossible. She would have known. Perhaps the one thing the man hadn’t noticed was how she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him and his flirtation with Louise Campton. But she
had
eaten very little and
had
nervously played with her necklace. She drew in a breath as she realized she was giving way to him.

“Forgive me, Lord Str—” A warm hand covered her mouth to silence her effectively. The touch had a dangerous edge to it and a small shiver of excitement skated down her spine. She immediately berated herself for letting his touch make her feel anything.

“No names, my lady.” His voice was a rough whisper breathing fire across her back as his mouth grazed her shoulder. “Remember the rules. We’ve never met before.”

The game.
Her heart skipped a beat. Sweet heavens, she’d been so angry with him, it had never occurred to her that this might be the game she’d suggested before they’d left the town house. And she’d expected a mild flirtation, not an intimate seduction in the house of their host, especially with the danger of someone noticing their absence. His hand left her mouth to caress the side of her neck. It was a slow, sensual touch that burned its way through her until her body grew warm with anticipation.

“You are presumptuous in your attentions, my lord.” She forced the words past her lips as his hand moved downward to cup her breast. The touch pulled a gasp from her, and his teeth lightly abraded the side of her neck.

“And I think your protest is a façade,” he whispered in a low, velvety tone that made her legs weaken beneath her.

“Even if what you say was true, this is hardly the place . . .” Her words died in her throat as his hands left hers to slowly draw her skirts up and bunch them at her waist, while his hard body held her in place against the door. She gasped the moment his hands gripped her thighs, the heat of his touch spreading its way into every part of her body.

“Don’t try to deny you’re enjoying yourself, my lady.”

His mouth seared the back of her neck, and she breathed in the rough male scent of him. Oh God, he smelled wonderful. He was right. She
was
enjoying this—far too much. His fingers kneaded her flesh as he pressed his legs into the back of her thighs.

Through his trousers and the thin material of the short drawers beneath her corset, she could feel him growing hard against her. Surely he wasn’t planning to seduce her completely. Someone might come looking for them. Her breathing grew erratic at the dangerous thought. She knew it was reckless to feel excitement, but she did. Still, she forced herself to try and make sanity prevail.

“I don’t think—”

“I once had someone tell me not to think, but to feel.”

Sinful.
It was the only word she could think of to describe his voice. The sound of it was a dark caress that hinted at something decadent as he quoted her own words back to her. Her mouth went dry as she suddenly realized he was no longer a student. The way he’d planned this small tryst and the masterful way he was seducing her said he’d paid close attention to everything she’d taught him over the past month.