To Tempt an Earl (16 page)

"Ah, good. You don't look like a Beth.
Bethanny suits you perfectly."

"I'm pleased to know that my parents'
decision in regard to my name meets your standard,
Edward,
"
she replied, though her heart skipped a beat as she said his name
aloud.

"Now, then, Bethanny, you were saying?"
Graham asked, taking a slow step forward, his gaze locking with
hers so that her mouth went dry, yet her lips trembled with the
desire to taste his once more.

Without apology, he tugged her into a darker
shadow in a slight alcove on the balcony, away from gossiping eyes.
The view was open and vibrant with the last remaining hues of
sunset. He stepped away, giving her room to breathe and think.

"I was saying?" she replied breathlessly.

"Yes, the original conversation, on why you
found my compliment entertaining. You see, Bethanny, a gentleman
takes such an action from a lady to heart. It's impugning to his
integrity."

At once she remembered the gentleman who'd
compared her to a swan.

And laughed again.

She truly should learn to control her
emotions better. But being with Graham, calling him Edward, and
teasing him so openly was crumbling every proper behavior in her
well-educated social wall.

Graham shook his head in a scolding fashion;
his gaze continued to scorch her.

All amusement vanished as she lost herself in
his amber gaze.

"Because it… you see, my lord," she took a
calming breath then continued, "compliments are wonderful when
spoken from the heart, not simply recited pieces of trite prose
meant to provoke a response in a lady." Bethanny released a nervous
breath, her eyes searching his.

"Oh." His expression was indifferent, yet the
lines around his eyes appeared deeper.

The silence continued, so she filled it with
nervous chatter. "It was earlier that a gentleman compared my
dancing to the grace of a swan in flight. Anyone can see that I'm
not particularly graceful. Such a compliment was an insult to my
own intelligence and awareness of my personal attributes. I'm not
so vain to think myself as perfect or without fault. And I'll admit
that your compliment, while I hope, was utterly sincere, sounds
like a line from a Gothic novel." She bit her lip and turned to the
panoramic line of the London horizon etched in the bright purple
and orange hues of sunset.

"I… see."

"It was never my intention to offend you, my
lord," Bethanny quickly apologized. She glanced down but didn't
turn to face him.

"So, we're back to
my lord
?" Graham's
voice sounded closer, deeper, and she turned, her eyes widening as
she saw he had taken two silent steps and brought them practically
touching. The fabric of her gown was brushing against the dark coal
color of his evening jacket, creating a whisper of sound, a flash
of heat crept into her very soul.

"I'm beginning to think you have a secret
obsession with lurid novels, Bethanny," Graham teased, his eyes
dark and full of mysterious secrets.

"As I've said, I'm not overly concerned with
them," Bethanny responded breathlessly.

"You seem to have an unusual knowledge for
one so uninterested," he commented. The corner of his lip tipped up
slightly.

"Beatrix."

"Pardon?" His eyebrows rose in inquiry.

"My sister, Beatrix. I don't have to read the
novels to know about them. My sister explains them in detail over
breakfast," she explained, her heart pounding.

"Ah. And, just to alleviate any confusion, I
was sincere." He tilted his head slightly as his gaze roamed her
features then fixated on her lips.

His gaze was like a caress, and her mouth
trembled in response.

"I'm afraid you'll have to explain further,"
she replied, her own gaze darting about his handsome face. Just a
slight step forward, and she'd meet him lip to lip, but desire
wasn't a substitute for courage, and though she had been bold in
the past, she was still an innocent.

"My compliment," he clarified with a slight
grin.

"Then I thank you."

"However, I'll be sure to be more original in
the future," he amended softly as he leaned forward.

"In the future?" she asked with a traitorous
hope in her voice.

"Oh yes, the future… Bethanny," he whispered.
Just as his lips touched hers, he retreated. His warm breath
tickled her newly moistened lips and caused them to burn with
desire.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he murmured, the
movement of his lips brushing against her own in the slightest
manner, like a butterfly's wings.

"Yes, yes you should," Bethanny replied
boldly, then leaned forward and pressed her lips fully to his.

He groaned as if tortured, but he didn't
resist her, rather, pressed deeper into the kiss, sweeping her away
in the bliss of his affection. Gently, he guided her backward,
small footstep after small footstep. The slight movement barely
registered to her as Graham continued to taste, tease, and tutor
her mouth to return his kiss. She startled when her back gently met
a balustrade to the side of the balcony. Leaning back from the
kiss, she glanced up to Graham then around, trying to gather her
whereabouts. Somehow he had guided her into the shadow of the
corner of the balcony, shielded by a large potted palm. Her gaze
sought his.

"I'm not an exhibitionist." Graham shrugged.
The simple movement was boyish, shy.

"Not to mention possibly damaging to my
reputation," Bethanny added dryly, a grin quirking her swollen
lips.

"Perhaps."

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

"However, since we have such a lovely and
secluded place, let's not waste it, shall we?" Graham added with a
devilish grin, his eyes dark with heated intentions.

"Waste not, want not." Bethanny grinned and
met him halfway as he kissed her gently.

But she wanted more. So much more. Without
hesitation, she pressed into him, winding her arms around his
shoulders and reveling in the steel-like musculature of his back,
felt even through his evening wear. His coat was fine wool, soft,
and she allowed her greedy fingers to roam his back before settling
on shoulders.

His teeth tugged her lower lip, pulling her
slightly forward in a playful manner, and she felt herself smile as
she continued to return his kiss. Each sensation was so fresh and
exhilarating she was sure he could taste her excitement and
devotion through their heated exchange, but she didn't have the
experience necessary to practice restraint. Rather, she gave
herself over to the swirling emotion of first love, of first desire
as she began to tease the soft and slightly curling hair at the
base of his neck. Tugging slightly, she grinned as he groaned
softly, his warm breath fanning against her lips before he took
them back with a driving possessive kiss. Emboldened by his
reaction, she plunged her hands further into his hair, twisting
slightly, feeling a strange empowerment as she felt his kiss grow
ever more demanding, more possessive, causing her own heart to beat
faster with the heady sensations he created. His hands, which were
bracing himself against the stone balustrade, now roamed her arms,
gently squeezing. He slipped them behind her back and pulled her in
tighter till breathing became gasping with delight. He traced the
lines of her back as his hand dipped lower—

"Ah-hem."

Graham released her quickly, his chest rising
and falling in quick succession as he spun and hid Bethanny behind
his back, protecting her.

And her reputation.

Even with scandal a breath away, she smiled,
feeling protected, and dare she think it? Loved?

"Neville." Graham nodded then cleared his
throat.

"Lovely evening, is it not?" Neville spoke in
a disinterested tone.

"Indeed," Graham answered, his voice
tight.

"Since there was a break in the dancing, I
thought to take in the air… I'm sure that there will be many more
to follow me in such an idea," Neville spoke pointedly.

Bless the man
, Bethanny thought
charitably. Quite expertly, he had saved her and Graham from
greater danger as, no doubt, others would indeed follow and come to
gather some fresh air. Neville was going to be discreet. Few others
would have. And as much as the idea of Graham being trapped into
marriage had its appeal — and after that kiss, she was as good as
compromised — she wanted him to
want
to marry her, not be
obligated to do so.

"Thank you." Graham nodded, his tone far
softer.

Neville didn't respond, but the sound of his
retreating footsteps let her know he was leaving.

Graham sighed heavily then turned, his
shoulders slightly hunched from their proud position earlier.

"That… was far too close for comfort," Graham
said, then ran his fingers through his hair, settling it from her
earlier attentions. "However, I do not think he saw who you were,
since you were in the shadows. You must take care, Bethanny."
Graham's golden eyes grew concerned.

"I'm sure Lord Neville will not say—"

"It's not that. While I believe that Neville
is a gentleman, I cannot claim a close acquaintance with the man.
What I'm trying to say is… simply use caution. If Neville is a
scoundrel, and he ascertained your identity, he will likely think
that you share your… charms… liberally."

"Pardon?" Bethanny was aghast.

"Bethanny." Graham spoke softly and reached
down to grasp her hands. The heat from his touch warmed the fear
that had begun to grow within her. "Innocents do not kiss… like
this," he finished. "And while it pleases me to no end that you are
so passionate, someone else might mistake your… fervor… and try to
use it to their advantage."

"Oh. So if I kiss one gentleman, some would
think that I'd kiss
any
gentleman?"

"Precisely."

"That's rot." She pulled he hands out from
his and fisted her palms.

Graham chuckled. "I couldn't agree more. But
sadly, it's the truth."

"Just because I kiss you doesn't mean—"

"You know that, and I… hope… that…" he
teased.

Bethanny swatted at him.

"Ouch."

"Liar."

"I wanted you to feel confident about your
pathetic attempt."

"You!"

"Now there, little kitten, pull back those
claws. Your quarrel is not with me." He grasped her wrists and
pulled her in close.

Bethanny narrowed her eyes.

"I'm intimidated," Graham mocked.

"You should be," Bethanny ground out, still
piqued.

"Then I simply must disarm you." He chuckled
and kissed her lightly on the lips. "You were saying?" he whispered
a moment later.

"It's not fair," Bethanny murmured. "I've
only ever kissed you. For someone—"

"A hypothetical someone, mind you."

"Regardless—"

"You need to kiss me more."

Bethanny paused. "On that we utterly agree."
She grinned and rose up slightly on her slippered toes and kissed
him.

"However…" Graham pulled back, "the truth is
that we do not have time to continue… arguing."

"Is that what we're doing? Remind me to
provoke you more often."

"I? You were the one provoked. I'm the
pacifist in this arrangement." He nibbled her lower lip.

"We need to return."

"I know… but that doesn't mean that I like
the idea."

"I utterly agree," Graham whispered.

"But perhaps… I can arrange for us to argue
again soon?" Graham took a step back, releasing her and giving them
a respectable distance, perchance someone should come upon
them.

"I would love that above all things,"
Bethanny answered, her heart swelling with joy.

"Then,
Miss Lamont
, dear Bethanny, I
bid you adieu until later." He bowed crisply.

"Until later,
Lord Graham
, dear
Edward." She grinned.

His eyes danced as he turned and strode out
from the balcony, passing four debutants as they made their way out
into the fresh air. Four sets of eyes followed his departure. Then
the girls turned and sighed contentedly, till they saw
Bethanny.

"My, my…" One of the debs eyed her
meaningfully.

Bethanny recognized her, Doris Hawkes, a girl
in her third season, who loved gossip.

Delightful
, Bethanny thought with
annoyance.

"Fancy meeting you
two
out here…
alone." Doris made her way, the three other debutants following
behind, eyeing each other meaningfully.

"It's a beautiful evening." Bethanny
shrugged. "And it
is
quite the crush within." She nodded
toward the exit.

"Indeed." Doris raised an eyebrow.

Bethanny offered an innocent smile. "Enjoy
the sunset," she spoke politely as she made her way past the girls
and to the exit.

"Oh we will," Doris responded then added
lowly, "Though I'd imagine you hardly noticed it."

Bethanny pretended not to hear and made her
way into the ballroom.

After all, what she'd said wasn't far from
the truth!

Graham couldn't wipe
the smile from his face. After his clandestine interlude with
Bethanny, he was soaring on hope's wings. Surely, if he explained
his intentions, Clairmont would agree to his suit.

Graham was a decisive man. Once his mind was
made up, it was very difficult to alter it; and his mind was made
up that he wanted Bethanny. It was the strangest of irony, that he
would be asking his best friend for permission to court and marry
her. Even stranger that he sincerely was anxious on the duke's
answer to that very question. For a moment, he questioned his quick
decision, his immediate and passionate attachment to her. Was it
too quick? Would it fade with time, leaving him lamenting the fact
that he'd chosen so quickly?