Seduced by a Scoundrel - By Barbara Dawson Smith Page 0,51
music again, laughing, feeling carefree and joyful. Caught up in fantasy, she performed a little twirl through the doorway of the lamplit library.
And danced right into the arms of Drake Wilder.
His hard-muscled form drove the air from her lungs. With her next breath, his alien scent of cologne and masculinity flooded her. His keen blue eyes gazed down at her in faint amusement.
“Dreaming of me?”
His taunting voice completed the rude jolt of reality. She stepped back, bumping into a leather chair. “You shouldn’t be here so early,” she accused.
“Neither should you.” Turning, he slid a book into place on a shelf.
Against her will, she noticed how tall and magnificent he looked in a form-fitting coat of deep blue with silver buttons, cream-colored breeches, and dazzling white linen at his throat. An uneasy warmth awakened within her, a feeling that was part attraction and part resentment.
Ever since their disturbing encounter in his chamber, she had seen little of her husband. They each had adhered to their own routines. At dawn, he returned home from his club and slept all morning. Then he left again sometime during the afternoon, while she was out shopping, helping Sarah select a new wardrobe to replace her drab black mourning. The arrangement suited Alicia well. The less she saw of her husband, the better.
He turned to study her with a brooding intensity, his gaze wandering the length of her body before lingering at her deep, scooped neckline. She resisted the urge to cover the daring display of bosom. He would only chuckle in that irritating way of his.
She assumed a mask of icy hauteur. “A word of advice,” she said. “If you stare in such an ill-bred manner at any lady tonight, you are certain to brand yourself a profligate.”
“And if you speak in that waspish manner to any gentleman, you are certain to brand yourself a prig.” With his mouth curled into a sardonic smile, he subjected her to another leisurely survey. “A very lovely prig, nonetheless. Though you do need the crowning touch.”
He strolled to the desk and picked up a palm-sized leather case, which he opened to display the contents. Against the cream velvet interior lay a glittering suite of diamond and pearl jewelry. The lavish artistry wrested a gasp of pure feminine awe from Alicia.
Just as swiftly, she jerked her gaze away. “You already gave me jewelry for our wedding. I can’t accept another such expensive gift.”
“You can, indeed. My wife will be admired by everyone tonight.”
His steely tone reminded her that she was his pawn, taken as payment for a gambling debt. Tonight she must flaunt the wealth he had gained at the expense of weak, foolish men. She had no choice. And deep inside her, she felt a shameful gladness.
She stood stiff and silent while he adorned her in diamonds … the exquisite tiara … the dainty earbobs … the extravagant necklace with its network of pearls from which hung a sinfully large solitaire.
Then he propelled her out of the library and into the corridor, stopping before a gilt-framed mirror. He stood behind her, his hands resting on her bare shoulders. Their eyes met in the mirror. An almost palpable spark flashed in the shadowed air.
“Look,” he commanded. “See how beautiful you are.”
The satisfaction in his tone shivered through her, and she rebelled to think that he viewed her as a pretty possession. Rather than admire herself, she was struck by how perfect they looked together, she in her white ball gown with diamonds glinting at her throat and in her blond, upswept hair … and he all lean masculine perfection, his roguishly dark features displaying a dangerous allure.
“It is merely an illusion,” she whispered, speaking more to her own private thoughts than to him.
“But you are my illusion.” He bent closer, holding her gaze in the mirror, his breath stirring the downy hairs at the nape of her neck. “You are mine alone.”
* * *
They arrived early at Sarah’s town house. A balding butler led them down a gilded corridor and through a doorway, where he intoned their arrival. At Drake’s side, Alicia entered a cozy yellow sitting room.
Sarah stood as if frozen by surprise, her fine dark brows winged upward. The vibrant green silk of her ball gown enhanced her sable hair and long-lashed eyes. An heirloom emerald necklace adorned her throat.
Alicia hurried forward to place a kiss on that smooth white cheek. “Oh, Sarah, do forgive me. We’ve arrived too soon. I hope we haven’t inconvenienced you.”