read every inch of her soul. Selina had an uncanny feeling that, despite her taunts, he had come to understand her over the last week. Then she reminded herself that he was a rake, and he knew just what to say to a woman to win her over.
"I could show you joy," he said in a soft voice that played more of that devil’s music up and down her backbone.
"I’m sure you could," she said flatly. "But I won’t let you seduce me in Lord Derwent’s library, where anyone could come in and discover us."
"It would put paid to your reputation for dullness, at least."
Despite everything, she laughed. "You’re incorrigible."
"I am." He paused, and his expression grew so intense that fear made her breath accelerate. "Anyway, my ambitions reach further than that. I want more of you than one hurried tumble in another man’s house, before the servants come in to snuff the candles."
"You must know that’s impossible. I’ve told you what’s at stake." Selina paused, feeling let down. Which was stupid. The world knew Brock Drummond, the Earl of Bruard, was a wicked man. She couldn’t complain when he lived up to his reputation. "You seemed to understand my dilemma. Or was all that compassion just a libertine’s trick, so I’d let you have your way with me?"
Surprise lit his dark eyes. And something that looked like appreciation. "You don’t mince your words, do you?"
Suddenly weary, she stared into the fire. "What’s the point?"
"None that I can see, but most ladies wouldn’t agree." She wasn’t looking at him, but she could hear that he was smiling. "How on earth does anyone think you’re dull?"
"I mind my tongue most of the time. I should have minded my tongue tonight."
"That would have been a pity."
She stood and smoothed her skirts. This had gone far enough. Since they’d started talking, danger had flickered in the air. Now it flapped around her with huge, black wings.
"I should go to bed. Alone." In case Bruard imagined that was an invitation. "It’s been an entertaining encounter, my lord."
He rose to face her, his expression intent. "To Hades with that. Do you dare to dismiss me like an importunate creditor, madam? I’ll be damned if you will."
Startled, she stared at him. She faltered back. "I told you I can’t…"
He sounded annoyed. "No, you can’t tonight. But for the next two weeks, Cecil is safe in the north and you’re within reach in the south, and I find myself at your disposal."
"To do what?"
"Why, to show you what you’ve been missing."
His smile made him look a complete scoundrel. She shivered with nerves, and with the force of the attraction assailing her. When he seized her hand, the contact blasted her like fire.
She regarded him in consternation and tried to pull away. "It’s impossible. Even if I wanted to say yes, Gerald comes home from school in a week."
"Then give me a week. A week when you come to me as my willing lover. A week when you’re not Roderick Martin’s neglected wife or Cecil Canley-Smythe’s obedient helpmeet." His voice lowered into an enthralling murmur. "A week when you’re Selina, the woman I desire above all others."
Chapter 2
Brock watched that lovely face freeze in shock. He braced for her to pull away, for her to protest that she was a good woman and his improper proposal offended her. Even the most round-heeled wench liked to demur to dispel any impression that she was an easy conquest. And Selina Martin was no lightskirt. She was the kind of chaste, principled woman he usually ran a mile to avoid.
Since he’d first seen this demure widow, all calm control and subtle shades of old gold, he’d told himself over and over to forget his inconvenient fascination. It had done no good. She haunted him as no woman ever had. While she wasn’t his usual quarry, he refused to accept that she wasn’t for him.
As so often tonight, she surprised him. "You make it sound so tempting."
No coy denials. No vacillating between yes and no, when the answer was always yes. Brock had become bored with easy victories. Yet here it seemed Selina considered his proposition a mere moment and the answer wasn’t no, and still he could barely contain his excitement.
He smiled, hoping he didn’t look half-witted with delight. He stepped closer. "I thought you’d slap my face."
"I should." The uncertain curve of her lips hinted that she was unused to smiling and wasn’t sure if it was allowed.
She never smiled