Page 10 of Dallying with the Diamond
She, Honoria Eveleigh, had shocked one Captain Leonidas Atherton, who, if the journal she’d purchased was even half true, should be nigh to impossible to shock. After a moment to savor her victory, she realized she had no idea how to go on from here. No idea what to do with him now she had secured his attention. That wasn’t entirely true, but there were a number of steps she needed to accomplishbeforeshe did what she wanted to with him.
When they came to the small temple-like structure surrounded by tall, neatly trimmed hedges Captain Atherton stepped back to allow Honoria to enter first. The structure was quite secluded as it was covered in wisteria vines, many of which were full of white and lavender blooms. The flickering torches on either side of the entrance created a pale sort of light which entered the temple but faded to near darkness at the back of the circular structure. Perhaps she should have been more attentive as she moved out of the light.
“Now, Captain Atherton,” she said as she turned and found herself in his arms. She raised her head and tried to suppress the shivers that raced through her body. The half-light from the torches cast the harsh lines of his face into a strange and exotic mask, a mask that spoke of power and an animal sensuality she’d only seen in her most fevered dreams.
“We seem to find ourselves in each other’s arms quite frequently, Lady Honoria.” His deep rumble of a voice danced across the bared skin of her decolletage. “Fate, perhaps?”
“Your clumsiness, perhaps?” Honoria licked her lips as he raised an eyebrow and said nothing in response. “How did you know?”
“Know?”
“I was the woman at Lord Whitcombe’s bookshop.” He had not released her and even through his gloves the heat of his hands on her bare arms pulsed in time with her thundering heart.
“I didn’t. CB did. He recognized you and Mrs. Seaforth at once.” He leaned down and brushed his nose against her ear. When he inhaled deeply, she shuddered.
“Are you smelling me, Captain Atherton?” A stupid question, but a valid one.
“Mmm hmm. This afternoon you smelled of a garden in Essex. Tonight, you smell of that garden and feminine arousal. IfFloriscould bottle the scent, I daresay they’d make a fortune.”
Honoria’s knees went weak. She clenched her thighs together. How did he know?Wait!She steeled herself. This was her negotiation. If she ceded control to him, she’d never have it again. And for her plan to work, she had to maintain control.
“Shall we move on to the business at hand?” She rolled her eyes at his wolfish grin.
“What business would that be?”
“I have your journal. You want it back. I am willing to give it back…for a price.” She prayed the dim light hid her rapid breath that pushed her breasts into his chest.
“I see.” He took a step back and allowed his hands to slide down her arms. The loss of his nearness gave her the sensation of an icy wind blowing between them. “How much?”
“How much what?”
“Money. I realize a lady like yourself would consider the subject of money rude to discuss, but once one has moved past the niceties and gone straight to blackmail, politeness is in the eyes of the beholder. What sort of money could the daughter of a wealthy duke, all but betrothed, with a ludicrous dowry need?”
He was angry, no, he was insulted or perhaps disappointed. She studied his face, a mask of stone now. She had disappointed him somehow. “I am not proposing blackmail. Rather I am proposing…a business arrangement. A business arrangement in which money plays no part.”
“I see. What then do you want in exchange for my journal pages?” He still evinced a sort of hurt anger, but he was listening He was not at all what she’d expected. Perhaps that was the reason she was suddenly so…
“You, Captain Atherton. Not to put too fine a point on it, I want you.” She froze her expression so as not to show how utterly horrified she was by her blunt statement of her desires.Desires. She really should not have read one of his journal entries in her bath before she dressed for the ball.
“Could you, perhaps, be more precise in your—”
“I want your services as a lover and for each encounter I will give you pages from your journal.” Honoria stated her terms quickly in the hope the idea would sound perfectly normal and acceptable. However, as he stood there, hands clasped behind his back, blinking rather rapidly, she began to doubt she’d stated her bargain clearly enough. She gave him her most flirtatious smile. As the Season’s Incomparable she had an entire litany of smiles, glances, and signals, carefully crafted and practiced from which to choose.
“Come now, Captain Atherton,” she said as she began to pace the close confines of the little temple. “I should not have to explain my proposal to a man such as yourself. I have read your journal. Sexual congress appears to be one of your particular skills, if what I have read in your journal is true. I simply wish to enjoy your talents, perhaps in the form of my favorite…incidents? For each one I will give you pages from the journal.”
He continued to study her, no longer blinking, simply staring at her pacing form, mute. The light of the torch inside the temple shone on his face and allowed her to watch him from half-darkness. His expression changed several times, but always came back to a sort of fascination she did not know how to identify. She’d grown quite adept at deciphering the expressions of others, another skill of necessity when one had no desire to marry the wrong dull, wealthy, unappealing peer out of hand.
“Have I scandalized you, Captain—”
“Ath. My friends and women who are bargaining for my bedchamber favors call me Ath, or Leo, if you insist.” He stepped in front of her. This time she did not run into him, but stopped close enough to inhale the forest scent she’d already come to associate with him. The smell of paint was barely there, but another more intriguing musk was in the mix. “I was scandalized when I realized you were the sort of customer Whitcombe allowed in his private reading room. Now I am…curious. Very curious.”
“Curious?” Honoria bit her tongue to keep an accusativeBollocks!from escaping her lips. He wasn’t curious. He was amused, which caused a hot flush to rush through her body. This supposed debauched cavalry officer saw her as some silly chit baiting a rake for fun with no intention of following through. The heat of the flush turned to ice. She patted him on the chest.
“I can see you have qualms about such an arrangement. Perfectly understandable, especially if your journal is merely a well-written work of naughty fiction. As I collect such works, I’ll keep your journal and bid you good evening, Captain Atherton.” She raised her chin and stepped around him towards the arched opening back into the gardens. When he caught her hand she took one more step before she looked back, up the length of her arm, and finally into his eyes.
He pulled her to him, turned her to face him, and slowly peeled her glove from above her elbow until he held the silk length in his fingers. He raised her hand to his lips, turned it over and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her palm. He dragged his lips up her middle finger and nipped the tip with his teeth. Honoria flinched even as a shiver of erotic sensation slipped through her body and vibrated against her quim.
“Now,” he said darkly as he touched the tip of his tongue to a point on the side of her neck where her pulse raced beyond all measure of beats. “When a lady bargains for services she often wishes to indulge in a sample to make certain what she is purchasing is worth the price. Did you have a particular sample in mind, my lady?” His hair brushed against her skin, far more soft and satiny than she’d ever imagined.