The Girl is Not For Christmas - Emma V Leech Page 0,50
mention furious with Mr Walsh. What had she been thinking?
“I’m all ears,” he said, a tone to his voice which made shivers skitter down her spine.
“Well, I… er, I ran into Mr Walsh and enquired after you, because… Oh, because Ceci and Charlie have gone out now, only… only your wretched valet told me how you were lonely and dying of melancholy and drink, and…. Oh, I don’t remember exactly what he said, but he put me such a pelter I was certain you were about to breathe your last, and….”
“Quite.” Livvy scowled at him, wondering why on earth she’d allowed herself to be taken in. “What was he thinking?”
“I gave up trying to figure out what Walsh is thinking over a decade ago. I’m not about to try again now. Though I believe he acts with the best of intentions, the results can be… mixed.”
“Yes, but you do realise the dreadful man is trying to get me to set my cap at you?”
King stilled and his voice when he next spoke was cool and remote, and not at all what she’d become used to. “Whatever gave you that ludicrous idea?”
“Well, he’s all but put it in writing,” she said caustically, not liking his tone.
“Well, do not fret unduly, Miss Penrose. We both know that I am of no earthly use to you beyond my limited ability in teaching you how to seduce another man of greater worth.”
Livvy stiffened at the mockery behind his words. “There is no need to be unpleasant.”
“Ah, but it was you who insisted we call a spade a spade, was it not?”
“I think I’d best go now. You are clearly in no mood for company.”
“Oh, but you’re quite wrong.”
Livvy gasped as he pulled her down on to the bed with him and rolled them both so he was staring down at her.
“I find I’m quite in the mood,” he said, his eyes glittering dangerously.
“You are supposed to be helping me find something to wear in Ceci’s wardrobe,” Livvy pointed out, wondering how on earth she sounded so calm when she was trembling all over.
She wanted to believe it was maidenly distress at being manhandled in such a cavalier fashion. Being the kind of person who thought it was the height of stupidity to lie to oneself, she was obliged to admit it was nothing of the sort. No, the thing that had her quivering and flustered was the feel of his large frame pressing hers into the mattress. She ought to be furious with him, she ought to demand he get off and let her go, but all she felt was a dizzying rush of exhilaration and a desire to ask for more.
“But I don’t want to find you something new to wear. I’m only interested in getting you out of what you are wearing at present. You are in my bed, Livvy, you came to my room and put your hands on me. Some men might call that encouragement.”
“What do you call it?” she asked, and there was no doubting the breathless quality of her voice this time.
“Recklessness. Idiocy. An utter lack of regard for the consequences of your actions?”
Livvy blinked, a little startled by the anger in his voice.
“Is this how you usually go about seducing women?” she asked. “Aren’t you supposed to make me forget about all those things, not bring them to my attention?”
“For Christ’s sake, Livvy. Do you want me to ruin you?”
Livvy stared up at him, her heart thudding too fast in her chest.
“Holy God!” he exclaimed, throwing himself away from her and scrambling to his feet. “You’re not supposed to think about it!”
Livvy sat up on her elbows, staring at him in consternation. “Why did you ask me the question if you didn’t wish me to think about it?”
“It oughtn’t need thinking about, you wicked girl! The correct answer is an immediate no, followed by insults about the nature of my character and a good hard slap.”
“You’re awfully skittish for a libertine,” Livvy replied, provoked now. “Are you quite sure you are the Earl of Kingston and not some imposter?”
“Quite sure,” he replied acidly. “And if you really want to marry a man with more than ten shillings to his name, I suggest you leave. Now.”
“No.”
King threw up his hands and muttered a curse.
“There’s no point in being all dramatic. I’ve had quite enough