lots of lemon and sugar. Lots of lemon.”
She was caught. She didn’t realize it as she sank into the wingchair, but there would be no escape. The tension seeped from his shoulders. She was his.
He rang for the maid and ordered the repast.
“I’ll be sure all is as you request.”
“Why are you being so cordial, suddenly?”
“I told you, I like watching women eat. I am already anticipating the event.”
“Tell me the truth,” she answered, her gaze sweeping his face. “I do not believe you do anything without a more definitive purpose. I stayed with my sister long enough to hear Wulf tell many tales of schooldays and later. He said you always got your way. He was not sure how you did it, but somehow people always acted as you wanted.”
“I am sure that can’t be true. Why would anyone do something just because I said so?” He gave her his most innocent grin.
Her eyes fastened on his lips. That was good. Once women concentrated on his lips . . . He let his own gaze linger on hers. Now that she was sitting, their color had returned and they were a split cherry, ripe for the tasting. He could see them part with each breath, the lower one moist from her tongue. He leaned towards her slightly, letting the spell grow, entwine about them both. He raised his glance slightly, prepared to meet her darkened gaze, the pupils dilating with desire.
She drew back suddenly, her lips clamping shut, her eyes burning with – suspicion.
This time it was he who shook his head, trying to shake free the blood that had rushed there.
“Wulf was right,” she said.
“What?”
“You weave a web of words and charm and . . . I must be going.”
Just as she prepared to rise, the maid entered the room with a tray. The steam rose from the pot and filled the room with its light, crisp scent.
Her eyes fastened on the tray, on the lemon. Her lips parted again and he could see her tongue dart over her teeth. She dropped back into the seat.
“I suppose you were right that a little refreshment would not do any harm, but then I really must leave.”
“Whatever you wish, my dear.” He’d never considered the seductive powers of tea before.
“Do not call me that. If you will not be serious I will depart immediately.” Her fingers were already reaching for the wedge of lemon. She picked it up and with the tiniest glance at him, brought it to her lips. Her eyes closed in rapture. The tiny muscles in her cheeks working as she nibbled at the edge.
“You have most unusual tastes,” he said.
She dropped the wedge, then hurriedly lifted it again.
“I do not really, but it just looked so inviting, like it would taste of summer. It’s so tart and fresh. I didn’t even know I wanted it until you mentioned tea and then I craved it. I love lemons. I always have.” She brought the wedge back to her mouth and this time she sucked. There could be no other word for it, those red lips wrapped tight around –
Tris shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He forced his gaze away. Citrus fruits were not erotic. Neither were pregnant chits. Why then were his breeches growing so uncomfortable?
“Have some tea with that.”
“Oh, you’re right, I suppose I should. I am forgetting my manners. It is hard to maintain proper decorum with a near stranger who has just asked you to marry him.” She was rambling, but no longer looked so desperate.
He poured the tea into her cup, a most unfamiliar task, and offered her the bowl of sugar. She took two heaping scoops and then squeezed three slices of lemon.
She sipped.
And smiled.
It was the first genuine smile he’d seen flit across her face and it caught him off guard. Just for a moment he was back in that long-ago ballroom, watching a young enchantress glide down the stairs, her enthusiasm barely restrained. Her aquamarine eyes had flashed at him and he’d been the one captured, all thought of purpose gone. It had been all he could do to restrain himself until he could maneuver her into some dark corner of the garden. He clenched his hand into a fist, fighting the remembrance of how soft her palm had been in his, how she’d quivered with first awareness as he stroked that virginal skin. He’d let her distract him then; he would not now. He had determined his goal and