The Dom of My Dreams: A BDSM Novel (21 page)

“So?” he asked with an expectant look on his face that puzzled me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He sighed and gave me a rueful look.
 
“I’ve known you for a very long time, Margie.
 
I know you like I know my own right hand.”

“I don’t think you know anyone as much as you know your right hand,” I responded with a suggestive smile.
 

He didn’t laugh.
 
“This isn’t like you, hon.
 
I’ve never seen you behave this way.
 
You’re one of the most self-possessed people I know, and seeing you like this is…it’s unsettling, is all.”
 
He sighed again and wrapped a warm hand around the back of my neck, giving me a gentle squeeze.
 
“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetie.
 
Is it Seton?
 
Has he done something to upset you?”

I blinked several times at him.
 
“No!
 
Why would you think that?”
 

He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Look, just answer me this.
 
Do you
like
him?”
 
He raised his eyebrows and flashed me a meaningful look, making it clear what he’d meant by “like him.”

I shrugged, tears forming in my eyes brought on by his well-intentioned meddling.
 
But I held them back.
 
“He’s…tolerable—”

“But not handsome enough to tempt
you
?”

I smiled at his quip.
 
Pride and Prejudice
was one of my all-time favorite novels and Jeremy and I often incorporated passages and quotes into our daily conversations, just for fun.
 
It was nice of him to try to cheer me up by doing that now.

I stood up straight, chin up, and with a snooty voice said, “You’d better return to your friends and enjoy their smiles.
 
You’re wasting your time with me.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, then laughed and brushed a brotherly kiss across my forehead.
 
“I’m here for you, to help you.
 
I just want you to be happy.
 
You know that, right?”

I nodded and punched him good-naturedly on his shoulder as I turned to leave.

He grabbed my elbow.
 
“Here, let me walk—”

“No, really, I’m fine,” I protested lightly, pulling away.
 
“The champagne went straight to my head, but it’s no big deal.
 
I still have my faculties.
 
Forget about me and have some fun.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes!
 
Now go and do some cruising.
 
Those poets at the bar are cute and I’d hate to see you lose an opportunity to get laid.”

We exchanged smiles before I turned my back to him and walked back to the table as steadily as I possibly could.
 
Jeremy called out something after me, but I ignored him.
 
It was nice of him to worry about me, but he didn’t have to.
 
I was fine.
 
I didn’t need him to hold my hand.
 

I slipped into my chair and made a signal to a passing waiter.
 
This time I asked for water.
 
I’d had enough champagne for one night.

Drinking the water, I glanced over at Seton and Karen to see what they were doing and found him watching me with a look of naked lust so hot I almost choked.
 
Heat rose up my neck and into my cheeks as I finished the water and tried to calm my now shaking hands.
 
I turned my gaze to Karen York.
 
She was busily tapping away on her BlackBerry.
 

I looked back at Seton and saw that he’d gotten up and was now approaching me.
 
My heart skipped a beat when he stopped in front of me, offering me a hand.
 
“Fancy a dance with me, Miss Fordham?”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me up before I had a chance to respond.

I walked—more like floated—to the dance floor, Seton behind me, his large hand on the small of my back.
 
His palm felt so warm against me that I had to fight the urge to move away from his scintillating touch.
 

We reached the dance floor, where it was dark, save for the harsh glare of a moving spotlight.
 
Five couples were already dancing, eyes on no one but the person facing them.
 

Seton slid one arm around my waist and pulled me against his hard body.
 
Then he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips.
 
He brushed feather-light kisses across my fingers, trailing tiny sparks of heat as he moved from one fingertip to the next.
 
I blew out a faint breath as desire shimmered to life within me.

A mixture of amusement and mischief crinkled in his eyes.
 
“You look beautiful tonight, my pet,” he murmured playfully into my hand, a teasing little smile touching the corners of his mouth.
 

The roguish lilt in his velvety-smooth voice sent a rush of excitement through me.
 
Now
that
was the Seton I knew—the dark and infuriatingly sexy Dom that made me all hot and tingly with just a few words or a simple touch—not that coldly civil stranger I came across with earlier.

“Shall I continue?” he asked, indicating the kissing as he gently traced a path down to the palm of my hand.
 
My knees buckled slightly as I tried to gather whatever wits, if any, I had left and shook my head, trying to pull my hand away, but he held it firmly as he lowered it from his mouth and pressed it against his chest.
 

“Relax, Marjorie,” he said softly, his face turning serious.
 
“We’re here to dance and nothing more.”

We moved to the soulful, melodic sounds of a saxophone playing “The Way You Look Tonight.”
 
Seton held me in his arms and set the slow rhythm of our dance, his chin resting softly on my head.
 
He was a wonderful dancer, moving with grace and precision as his fingers encircled the small of my back in a languid motion that sent shivers down my spine.
 
He felt and smelled so good and so warm pressed against me that I instinctively wrapped an arm around his neck and tucked my body tighter against his.
 
I felt his cock harden in response.
 
My pussy answered in kind, pulsing while a rush of liquid dampened the lacy panties.
 
I sighed and rested my head against his chest, closing my eyes.
 
Having him here, dancing with me, touching me, after all the hell I’d put myself through throughout the night, fearing his cold indifference…it was more than I could have ever longed for.
 
But even though my heart fluttered and my body rippled with the sheer pleasure of slow dancing with him, I knew I had to remain cool, if only to maintain a semblance of self-control.
 
So, I stepped back and continued our dance from a safer distance.
 

“Look at me, Marjorie,” he whispered in my ear.
 
“Look me in the eyes.”

Slowly, my gaze met his.
 
Something I couldn’t name burned in his emerald depths, stirring something unsettling within me.
 
His jaw was clenched and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.
 
He seemed lost in thought even as his eyes bored into mine.
 
I sighed and considered his brooding gaze.
 
Was it possible that he was as uncomfortable with this situation as I was?
 
Could it be that he was just as conflicted as I?
 
No, not possible.
 
Seton was coldness, confidence and calculation rolled into one.
 
He was sensual and worldly.
 
He was everything I’d ever wanted in a lover.
 
Or was he?
  

Seton broke the silence by asking, “Have you enjoyed yourself tonight?”

Nope.
 
“Yes, thank you,” I answered softly.

His eyes traveled down to my breasts.
 
My nipples had puckered to life while I’d been pressed against him.
 
I didn’t have to look down to know they were still hard—they ached and strained against the black lace bra and I knew he could see the elongated peaks through the dress.
 
His pupils flared in those magnetic eyes.
 
Then he squeezed them shut and shook his head in a way that resembled someone trying to forget something.
 
He looked more in control when he opened them again.
 

“What do you think of Karen?” he asked conversationally.

“Your agent?”

He nodded.

Bile rose as I considered his question.
 
Man, what a way to kill the mood!
 
“She…she’s lovely.
 
Has she been your agent long?”

He nodded.
 
“She’s been representing me since the very beginning.
 
When she came to work in the states, she took me with her.
 
She came to get away from London after her divorce, and she devoted a lot of her time to selling my first book in this country.
 
The rest, as they say, is history.
 
I owe her a great deal for my success.
 
And I do value whatever advice she has to offer.”
 
He emphasized the last sentence, meaning that if Karen York was against the idea of signing with us, he would very likely follow her advice.

I looked at Karen York, who was still scrolling through her BlackBerry.
 
“But…I thought you said you didn’t let her influence you on your decisions.”

“I don’t, but I
value
her opinion.”

I looked back at him to find that his eyes were now fixed on the subject of our conversation.
 
Then he turned to me.
 
“Fancy joining me and Karen for a nightcap after the party?”

I stared at him, incredulous.
 
No, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time together.
 

The song came to an end and we just stood there, gazing at each other, his arm still curled around my waist.
 
The other dancing couples gave the band a polite applause before moving away from the dance floor.
 
The band gathered their instruments and left the stage for a short break.
 

I suddenly felt very tired.
 
The champagne and lack of sleep, not to mention the unwelcome surge of emotion seeping through me, were doing a number on me.
 
I stared at the man standing in front of me, unable to figure out what was going on inside his head.
 
Which was just as well—I had a hard enough time figuring out what was happening inside my own head.

Seton raised his eyebrows.
 
“Well?”

I frowned.
 
“Well, what?”

“Want to join me and Karen for drinks later?”

I shook my head.
 
“No, thanks, I…I think I’ll call it a night.”
 
I closed my eyes for a second and pressed a palm against my forehead.
 
“I’m very tired.”
 

He took a step back and frowned, a look of concern passing over his face.
 
“What’s wrong?
 
Are you feeling unwell?”

His concern almost undid me.
 
I tried to disengage from him, but he held me tightly with his arm around my waist.
  
“I’m fine,” I snapped, “just exhausted.
 
I haven’t slept a wink, thanks to you.
 
So, just let me go so I could get my purse and call a taxi.”

“No, please, stay,” he said, his voice a little hoarse and desperate.
 
For a moment, I could’ve sworn I saw a blush spreading across his face.
 
“I mean, the night is still young, you shouldn’t leave so early.”