The Accidental Courtesan (24 page)

She scanned his face. “Why, Mister Blackwell, I believe you mean that.”

He tipped his head to press his lips against her temple. He said against her skin, “I do. All of your lessons have paid off. If this night doesn't end as we hoped, it will not be your fault. No one would ever suspect you are a Lady.”

Normally, Noelle would take offense at being called unladylike. Instead, she reached up to pat her wig. “Thank you.”

He lifted her hand to his lips. “You, My Lady, are an incredible adventure.”

Touched, Noelle moved into his arms and slid her hands around his waist. He was warm and inviting. “And you are a charming rogue. From the moment we met, you have made sure you are the one thing in my life I will never, ever forget.”

A crooked grin was his response.

In this setting, it was easy to remember their stolen moments in the coach and forget they were not truly lovers.

Oh, how she wanted them to be! It would be easy to make it so. But she couldn't. Couldn't! She was Lady Noelle Seymour. As such, she had to live by certain rules.

It was becoming difficult to concentrate on anything but Gavin. Her thoughts were never far from him, and worry crept into her mind. She started to feel as if she was setting herself up for a broken heart. It was time to take a few steps back. She needed to look at their situation with a clear mind.

She reclaimed her hand. “Since we have failed miserably as investigators, perhaps we should go.”

He frowned. “Is something the matter, love?”

“Must something be wrong?” She tried to keep her tone casual. “Can I not just be tired of nipples?”

Noelle's face flamed when he chuckled. How could she have said such a scandalous thing? Gavin's presence in her life was certainly having a negative influence. It reconfirmed her need to put some distance between them. He was far too handsome, and she was far too interested in his sensual draw.

She opened her mouth to speak again but was interrupted by an approaching couple.

Gavin didn't bat an eye as an older man escorted a woman past them. The courtesan winked at Gavin as she tottered by, and he returned her wink with a nod.

Noelle sighed, frustrated and a bit jealous. “If you'd care to run off that randy old goat and spend the rest of the evening in her bed, I can undoubtedly find my way home without your help.”

He dismissed the pair and turned back to her. “Is that so?”

“I wouldn't want you to miss an opportunity to find a new lover. A real lover. I know men such as yourself suffer from needs they have difficulty controlling. I hear that if you don't slake them frequently and with due diligence, certain parts of your body can turn a vicious shade of blue.”

It took a full minute for him to settle from his laughter. “My dearest Lady, you are a delight.” He caught up her hand and drew it to his mouth. He held her with his gaze and turned the hand over to nibble on the bare flesh exposed at the top of her glove. “You're jealous.”

“I am not,” she insisted. “I don't care enough for you to be jealous. We are only casually acquainted. I simply find it rude for a man to escort a lady to a social function, only to find his interest focused elsewhere.”

“Trust me, love.” He lowered her arm and leaned to whisper in her ear. “My interest is fully engaged right here.”

It was impossible to remain angry with him when he ogled her with a mixture of raw sensuality and teasing humor. He was a cad, an arrogant cad. But when he held her in his blue eyes, there was little she could remember to be angry about.

“I despise you,” she said breathlessly as he bent and pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. She smoldered beneath her gown. “You are far too arrogant and confident for your own good.”

He straightened and collected her hands. “And you are far too beautiful. Come, let us partake in one dance before we call this night at an end.”

The waltz was still considered shocking among the older members of society, yet it had been widely accepted for years. However, not many mamas allowed their newly minted debutante daughters to partake in the seductive dance.

Gavin led her through the crush to join the other dancers and pulled her into his arms. Noelle tried to keep from getting too intimate. Gavin refused keep a respectable distance between them. His hand on the curve of her back kept them close together. “Clearly you have decided my annoyance with you isn't enough to keep you from attempts to seduce me,” she said tartly.

“My dearest Noelle,” he countered, and pulled her closer. “The thugs could be standing at the edge of this dance floor, and I'd still want nothing more than to charm my way into your drawers.”

“You are despicable,” she wheezed, surprised by his frankness. It took lots of will to keep from smiling. Even the most annoying aspects of his personality left her wanting to laugh. “Do you ever think of anything but launching a coup against my drawers?”

He shrugged. “I'm afraid not.”

This time she did laugh. Somehow, even his lack of manners was charming. He was bold and arrogant and far too free with his hands. And he was unapologetic about it all.

“I believe it is time to change the topic before you break into an explanation of how to launch a successful attack on my undergarments.” She narrowed her lids.

He faltered ever so slightly, then easily regained his footing. Her saucy comment was only a temporary distraction. He was an expert at seductive banter.

“Perhaps later, when we have privacy, you'll let me draw you an assault map.” He stared at her mouth. “That way you will know every attack point on your body before it comes, and can eagerly anticipate my next move.”

Noelle rolled her eyes heavenward and shook her head. “You are entirely too confident that I would enjoy your seduction.”

“You will.”

“There has to be at least one woman who left your bed dissatisfied.”

“Never.”

The conversation was shockingly intimate. “You are saying that only in the hope that by the time I realize you are a braggart without skill to back up your claims, it will be too late. I will have already sacrificed my innocence to your lackluster ability.”

Intensity took any humor from his face. “My Lady courtesan, I will make you this wager. If I ever fail to satisfy your every desire, in bed or out, I will give you my entire fortune, down to the last ship and shilling, to compensate you for your disappointment.”

From someplace outside herself, Noelle felt herself treading on his toe. He didn't flinch. She was locked onto his eyes and her whole body exploded with heat. “You are that confident,” she whispered as the music died.

“I am.”

She felt his hand flex on her back, then dip to just above her buttock. She leaned into him until her breasts flattened against his chest. “Then I accept your wager.”

The music swelled, and she hardly noticed they were dancing again. She'd just agreed that if she ever lost her common sense and became his lover, she'd accept a wager that would financially ruin him. By the look of shock on his face, he hadn't expected her to accept the bait.

For the first time, she'd won against his sharp wit. He was speechless. It was a most satisfactory victory.

“You dance quite well, sir.” She acted as if nothing important and intimate had passed between them. He clearly needed a minute to collect himself. She enjoyed studying the grim line of his mouth. “Though you do need some instruction in proper hand placement.”

He blinked and shook his head. Then he cocked a brow. The confident American was back. “Trust me, love. I am very well versed as to where my hands are supposed to be, as you will soon find out. Unfortunately, you have on far too many clothes.”

Noelle pretended to yawn. She wouldn't let him see how deeply the thought of fulfilling the wager had affected her. The chance he'd actually satisfy her needs was slim. She had no intention of bedding him; therefore, no wager. Besides, sex was for procreation, not pleasure. Enjoying his kisses did not make her a vixen in bed.

“Have we returned to that again?”

“Back to what, exactly?” He offered a mock puzzled frown as if deeply confused by her implication. “Tell me details, and leave nothing out.”

“I think I shall hire a pinch-faced matron to give you instruction on proper topics of conversation, like the weather. Clearly you have spent much of your formative years with doxies and whores, as you seem to want to turn my every word into some sort of opening for seduction.”

He wasn't the least bit taken aback. In fact, despite his sober demeanor, there was mischief in his expression.

“Indeed? Then you must forgive my forwardness, My Lady. Making a wager against my fortune, and your acceptance, has left me reeling. However, I'll not regret the offer. I've been suffering from a serious case of frustration for several days now, and you are the key to my fulfillment.”

“See?” She slid her hand from his shoulder and jabbed a fingertip into his chest. “You cannot help yourself.”

He sighed and frowned. “I can speak quite eloquently about the weather. 'Twas a fine day today, was it not? There were just enough clouds in the sky to keep the day from becoming overly warm.” He looked up. “The night is cool and clear with a few stars to draw the eye. Tomorrow should be much of the same, unless a storm is brewing that we didn't expect. Hence the reason it is considered unexpected.” He drew her to a stop when the music died again. “I think it would be wise to ask Lady Penny for her thoughts, as her left foot seems to swell when bad weather is brewing.”

Noelle was laughing by the time he ended his haughty speech. His humor was infectious. Not a hint of the American accent could be found in his perfectly proper words. But the stiff manner behind his pontification caused a stitch in her side.

“Well done, Mister Blackwell.” She clapped several times. “Stuffy old Baron Wegan could not have done better.”

Gavin snorted. “I would much rather talk about your skin. Discussing thunderclouds is quite dreary.”

Her laughter faded to puzzlement. “My skin? What about my skin?”

The music began again, and he swept her into his arms. “Your skin is like a sweet siren song that calls me to explore its silkiness. When I press my mouth to it, I have never tasted the like. When I inhale the light scent of lemon and cinnamon, I find I cannot think of anything but how I'd like to nibble every inch until I can assure myself I have fully tasted heaven.”

“Oh, my.” The words tumbled from her mouth. She expected jests and instead received verse. Not excellent verse. Still, anything that issued from his perfect mouth sounded like poetry.

“And your eyes.” He bent slightly to peer into her eyes. “They are the softest, beautiful amber, with a ring of pale green around the center. The color reminds me of new spring grass.” He paused. “The way you looked at me the night in the coach, I was certain I had experienced something wondrous, something no man has ever experienced, no matter how many women have passed beneath him. It was the purest desire, and it was directed at me. It was a gift I shall always treasure.”

Noelle gaped. Many men had spun odes to her beauty over the years in an effort to woo her, but she'd never heard anything so lovely.

But he wasn't finished. “From our first kiss in my bedroom, I've been able to think of nothing but having you in my arms again, tasting the sweetness of your lips.” His eyes darkened. He danced her to the entrance of the rotunda and stopped. “I know it is madness. You are a Lady and a maiden. I have no right to you, to your body, lovely Noelle, regardless of the outrageous wager. I think I should take you home.”

Gavin took her hand. He dragged her pell-mell down the path, and she had to totter to keep up.

He wanted her. Not what her title could offer him. Not the obscenely generous dowry her father had left for her. Only her.

At a curve on the path, she dragged him to a halt.

“Wait, Gavin . . . the investigation . . .”

“Damn the investigation,” he growled.

Damn everything. They hadn't seen or felt one hint of trouble. The night hadn't gone as expected, but it didn't need to be a failure. She'd steal a bone-searing, bodytingling kiss before he dragged her home.

Without hesitation, she pulled him into a darkened corner of the garden. She gave him no time for questions but pushed him back against a tree and pressed her body against his. Lifting to her toes, she tugged the veil free, clasped him tightly around the neck, and pulled his face to hers. She heard his breath catch the moment she melded their lips together. She kissed him with every ounce of passion inside her.

It was but a moment before he opened his mouth to accept her probing tongue and caught the back of her head with one hand. Her legs melted. His other hand cupped her buttock, keeping her close.

Noelle felt the wonder of his kiss and knew she'd always feel so in his arms. In the moment when he'd spoken about her with such sincerity and passion, she'd confirmed she was becoming far too attached to her pretend American lover.

Attached? Noelle startled when the truth slipped into her mind. She was falling hopelessly in love.

It was a dreadful situation to be in.

“No.” Noelle pushed Gavin back, her mind racing. She couldn't love him. She never wanted to love anyone. To do so would open up all sorts of vulnerabilities. And because he'd never love her in return, it promised tragedy for her heart.

“I've made a mistake. Please forgive me.”

Turning on her heel, she fled in the direction of the coaches while tears burned her eyes.