“Mr. Caulfield.”
Thrusting himself away from the door he offered her a slight bow. “Good day, Miss Middleton. I trust you received my note?”
“Yes, yes of course. I commanded Reeves to have you shown to the front parlor.”
His lips twitched as he strolled toward the large desk. “Ah, you must be referring to the starchy butler who greeted me at the door. In his defense he did attempt to lead me to the parlor, but I assured him that you would prefer that I join you here.”
Attired in a charcoal coat and breeches and white waistcoat he appeared dangerously appealing. The early afternoon sunlight slanted through the window to shimmer in his golden hair and crisply outlined the elegant perfection of his features. And those eyes . . . they smoldered with a wicked temptation that could have made a saint swoon.
Her heart momentarily faltered. This was madness. What did she know of such worldly gentlemen? What did she know of any gentlemen?
A sudden impression of a hare blatantly toying with a smiling fox rose to her mind only to be swiftly banished.
No. She was no hare. And she had no need for intimate knowledge of gentlemen. This was a business arrangement. Nothing more. And she knew all there was to know about business.
“I see.”
He halted beside the desk, then audaciously perched his elegant form upon the corner. A decidedly worrisome smile curved his lips.
“I realize it is rather unconventional to meet you without a proper chaperone but I presumed that you would prefer our conversation to be conducted in privacy. There is bound to be a measure of. . . intimacy in our discussion.”
His charm was a potent, nearly tangible force. Tangible enough to send a warm flutter of awareness sweeping through her stomach.
Jane briefly wondered if it was so well rehearsed that he used it without thought or if there was a deliberate reason for his effort. Whichever it was she would be a fool to ever underestimate its power.
“You need not have concerned yourself with Sophia,” she retorted in brisk tones. “She is quite incapable of hearing a word unless it is shouted directly in her ear.”
“Ah.” He lifted his shoulder in a careless fashion. “Still there is always the risk that we would be interrupted by one of your callers. I prefer to have you to myself.”
She barely choked back a wry laugh. The only caller she had received since her arrival in London was Anna, and she had specifically warned the young woman that she would be occupied with Hellion on this afternoon. There was a greater opportunity that the French would invade than that her door knocker would be availed upon.
“A most unlikely occurrence, but I suppose we can be as comfortable here as anywhere. Would you care for refreshments?”
“No, I thank you.” He watched as she gingerly perched upon the edge of her leather chair, then, with a deliberate care, he glanced about the library. His brows rose slightly at the distinct masculine atmosphere of the leather furnishings and shelves that were filled from ceiling to floor with research books. The small tables upon the Oriental carpet were nearly hidden beneath the numerous newspapers and quarterly magazines that she scoured daily. On the window seat she had a pile of architectural drawings for her newest posting inn scheme. All in all it was a room that was well used and not at all for fashionable pursuits. “A handsome room, but an unlikely place to find a young woman on such a lovely afternoon.”
Jane met the curious gaze squarely. She had determined when coming to London that she would not hide or apologize for her peculiar habits.
“I spend every day in this room,” she stated in firm tones.
The dark gaze returned to her rather defensive countenance. “Every day?”
“My father left me a number of investments upon his death. It takes a great deal of effort to oversee them.”
There was a momentary pause as he continued to study her with a piercing intensity. “You are in control of your father’s inheritance?”
She smiled wryly at his barely hidden astonishment. At least he had not tumbled off the desk or recoiled in horror. After all, a woman who claimed a head for business was a decided oddity. Rather like a dancing bear.
“Of course I am. I assure you my father properly trained me to take over his position, although neither of us could have predicted I would need his training at such a young age.”
“It is hardly the usual occupation of most young ladies,” he murmured.
“So I have been told.” She could not halt the faint tartness in her tone. “It is yet another reason I am considered a wallflower.”
Rather surprisingly the expression upon the handsome features was more pensive than outraged. As if he found her occupation a mere curiosity.
“And yet you continue your work rather than handing it over to your man of business?”
She gave a startled blink at his abrupt question. It was not at all what she had expected. “I would never trust another with my fortune. Besides, I find such work a pleasure, not a burden. I far prefer an afternoon with my accounts than purchasing yet another gown I do not need.”
“Strange, indeed.”
Her lips abruptly thinned. He was not nearly so charming as she had thought. “I trust you did not come here simply to insult me?”
“Forgive me. I did not mean to be insulting. It is simply that I am far more accustomed to those who prefer to idle their days upon pleasure.”
“Those such as you?” she demanded sharply.
He abruptly froze, as if she had unwittingly scored a hit. His lips twisted as he gave a mocking nod of his head.
“Such as me.”
Feeling a ridiculous prick of guilt at having seemingly touched a wound, she squared her shoulders. This was business. It was time she began regarding it as such.
“Perhaps we should turn our attention to the reason for your visit?”
“By all means.” That heart-melting smile returned, although with an effort. “As you no doubt have surmised, I have decided to accept your proposition.”
It was precisely what she had surmised. And what she had prepared herself for the entire day. So why was her breath abruptly caught in her throat and her heart flopping like a fish out of water?
“I see.”
His eyes narrowed at her faint words. “Unless you have changed your mind?”
“No, no. Of course not.”
“Good.”
So this was it. She regarded him with a bemused gaze, unable to decide if she were thrilled or horrified by the realization that her scandalous proposition was being accepted.
Perhaps she was both.
“Yes, well I suppose you will desire your money. Would you prefer a bank draft taken to your home? Or I could have it delivered to your man of business if . . .”
“We can discuss such details later,” he interrupted without warning, a faint hint of displeasure revealing his reluctance to consider the fact that he was taking money from a woman. Jane tucked the information in the back of her methodical mind. She would have to take care not to injure his male pride.
“Of course,” she smoothly agreed.
His gaze slowly roamed over her countenance. “First I wish to discuss our upcoming charade. It is important that we both understand what to expect of one another. I suppose you wish to begin our flirtation at once?”
“I . . . yes.” She busied her less-than-steady hands by searching for the piece of parchment she had been scribbling upon earlier. This was business, she silently reminded herself. Just business. And a good thing it was, a voice in the depths of her mind mocked back. She could not survive a real flirtation. Not with this dangerous man. “The sooner the better. In fact, I have already made a list.”
“I beg your pardon? Did you say a list?”
“I fear it is a habit of mine. It is a very good means of keeping things tidy in my mind.”
“I see.” He made no effort to reach for the paper in her hands. Instead that wicked black gaze remained firmly upon her face. “And
what is upon this list?”
“I have noted down the various invitations that I have received. As you might have suspected, my father’s connection to the shop keeps me from being among the more exclusive entertainments, but there are still several to choose from. This way you will know where you may find me any given night.”
“A wise notion, no doubt.”
“I have also made notations next to those events that are more likely to attract eligible gentlemen.”
“Of course.”
Although there was nothing to be detected upon the deceptively angelic features, Jane was quite certain that he found a great deal of amusement in her methodical approach to their flirtation.
“I have also made a list of those things you might be expected to know of me,” she grimly plodded onward.
“Ah. And what things would that include?”
“The names of my parents and grandparents, details of my home in Surrey . . .” Her words broke off as he gave a deep, rumbling laugh. Really, men were the most mysterious of creatures, she seethed as she glared into his lean countenance. “What is so amusing?”
That devilish, fascinating smile flashed at her spurt of annoyance. “Obviously you have not indulged in many flirtations.”
“I thought that we had already established that fact. It is, indeed, the reason you are here,” she retorted stiffly. “Why is that so humorous?”
He paused to allow his black gaze to roam freely over her tidy violet gown and plain features. “My dear, if I truly were conducting a flirtation with you, my very last interest would be in the names of your parents or details of your estate.”
Ridiculously, a shiver raced through her at his husky words. They seemed to hold a wealth of meaning far beyond her understanding.
“Oh.” She awkwardly set aside her list. “What would your interest be?”
He slowly stood, his gaze searing into her wide eyes. “Your favorite flower, your preference in perfume, if you desired to be kissed upon your neck or the soft curve of your breast.”
Jane hurriedly placed her hands in her lap to hide their trembling. Kissed upon the neck? Her . . . breast? Did gentlemen do such things?
It sounded utterly decadent. And far too pleasurable for her poor, untutored heart to bear.
“Oh.”
“I would know if your hair is as soft as satin and whether your lips taste of passion. I would know the feel of your skin better than yourself,” he relentlessly continued, boldly stalking around the desk. Then, without warning, he abruptly swiveled her chair so that he could place his hands upon the padded arms, effectively trapping her. Her throat tightened as his beautiful countenance lowered until it nearly touched her own. Her heart tightened as his warm breath stroked her heated cheeks. She dared not consider what else was tightening as tingles of excitement raced through her blood. “And, of course, whether your curves were perfectly formed to fit beneath my body.”
She abruptly sank back into the unrelenting leather. “I take your meaning, Mr. Caulfield,” she breathed unsteadily.
Hellion pulled back to regard her with glittering eyes. “If you shrink from me in terror, Miss Middleton, no one will believe we are conducting a flirtation.”
The fact that he was absolutely correct only increased her sense of discomfort. She was supposed to be considering this as a business deal. Not as a nervous virgin being exposed to her first taste of passion.
“You merely took me by surprise.”
His brows lifted as he straightened and stepped from the chair. “Stand, Miss Middleton.”
“Why?”
His expression was far too determined for her liking. “There is no need in progressing any further if you cannot be depended upon to uphold your part of the charade.”
Why the . . . toad! Uphold her side of the bargain? She had never failed at a business transaction yet. And she wasn’t about to start now. No matter how dangerous her heart warned this gentleman might be.
“I will do well enough, sir.”
“Oh?” he taunted softly. “Is that why you are cowering in that seat as if you fear I might ravish you at any moment?”
“I do not fear you.”
“Then stand.”
He had effectively challenged her pride. What else could she do?
“Very well.” She reluctantly thrust herself to her feet, relieved when her less-than-stable knees held her upright. “Are you satisfied?”
“Not nearly,” he murmured.
Keeping her gaze firmly ensnared, Hellion stepped forward to gently cup her face in his hands. He used no force but Jane was powerless to pull away as his fingers stroked slowly over her cheeks and down to trace the curve of her mouth. With an odd fascination his thumb brushed her lower lip over and over until his head at last lowered and his intention became clear.
He was going to kiss her.
The knowledge entered her foggy mind the same moment his mouth softly touched her own. Then there was no possibility of thought.
His lips were warm and shockingly possessive. Not demanding but rather compelling as they sweetly pressed and nibbled. With infinite patience he explored the taste and shape of her mouth, as if she were a rare treat that must be savored with infinite care. Then, lightly his tongue stroked until her lips instinctively parted in invitation.
An odd, intoxicating pleasure coursed through her blood, making her light-headed and as dizzy as if she had just consumed a fine bottle of champagne.
Oh, this was dangerous, she fuzzily acknowledged. Wickedly, delightfully dangerous.
Murmuring soft words of encouragement, Hellion stroked his lips over her heated cheek and down the length of her jaw. The dazzling sensations raced through her, distracting her from the fingers that determinedly stroked down the arch of her neck, and then audaciously lower to sweep over the curve of her breast.
She might not ever have noted those roaming fingers if a shocking jolt of desire had not clenched her stomach when he captured the tip of her nipple and gently rolled it to an aching peak.
That she could not help but note.
Abruptly wrenching away she regarded him with a wary gaze. “Mr. Caulfield, I would allow no man such liberties,” she managed to retort in breathless tones.
He appeared perfectly composed as he regarded her flushed countenance. Perhaps those black eyes were a trifle darker, and his breath a tad shallow, but there was certainly none of the flustered bewilderment that she was experiencing.
Annoying man.
“No man?” He arched a golden brow. “Then I suggest you forget your notion of acquiring a husband, my sweet.”
“I . . . well, certainly I will do my duty once I am wed . . .”
“Duty?” He gave a low chuckle, a far-too-knowing expression upon his countenance. “Did it feel like duty when you were shivering and moaning beneath my touch?”
Jane abruptly stiffened. Had she shivered? Perhaps even moaned out her pleasure?
Dash it all. This was like no other business she had ever conducted. How was she to keep control of the situation when he was able to reduce her to a quivering half-wit with the slightest touch?
“Enough,” she commanded as she sucked in a steadying breath. “I believe you are having sport with me.”
“Not yet, but I assure you I would like to have sport with you,” he murmured with a deliberate glance toward her disheveled neckline. “For such a tiny thing you are surprisingly delectable.”
“You . . . Is this how you behave with all innocent maidens?”
His lips twisted with wry amusement at her accusation. “Of course not, but then I have never set up a flirtation with an innocent woman. If I did, however, I am certainly male enough to desire more than a chaste kiss upon your fingers. Much more.”
She did not doubt that for a moment. There was a restless sensuality about him that was nearly tangible. A sensuality she could still taste upon her lips.
“This flirtation is pretense only,” she reminded him in stern tones. �
��There is no need to handle me in such an . . . intimate fashion.”
He arched a brow at her stern reprimand, his gaze returning to her tingling lips. “Miss Middleton, whatever my faults, I am no easily duped school lad. I know when a woman is enjoying my touch and for a moment there you were more than delighted with my intimate handling,” he softly mocked. “Indeed, I expect with a bit more coaxing you would have been pleading for more of my intimate handling. A charming notion, is it not?”
Her mouth dropped open at his audacious claim. “Mr. Caulfield . . .”
He abruptly held up a hand as he noted the angry flush upon her cheeks. “No, no, my dear. Let us not wrangle. I am simply attempting to ascertain that you will not swoon the first occasion I approach you in a crowd.”
She gave a loud sniff. “Do not be absurd. I never swoon.”
“There is also the undoubted fact that there is an unmistakable air of awareness between two people attracted to one another. It is in the glances they exchange and how they seek to touch one another whenever possible.”
“I wish to be seen as an eligible lady, not a trollop,” she informed him sourly.
He did not appear impressed by her logic. Instead he crossed his arms over his wide chest and offered her a flat stare.
“Let us get one thing straight from the beginning, Miss Middleton. You might be all that is clever when it comes to numbers and lists; however, you are a rank amateur when it comes to flirtations. I, on the other hand, am an expert, which I presume is the reason you chose to hire me.”
“Yes, but . . .”
“Then allow me to know what is best when it comes to this proposition.”
Her lips thinned. “You are very arrogant.”
“And you are a managing shrew who will never discover a husband if you do not halt your habit of taking command of every situation,” he retorted without apology. “No gentleman desires a wife who is determined to run roughshod over him.”
Her mouth opened to slay him with her tongue when she grudgingly swallowed the hasty words. Although strong willed and blunt of speech, she was not so obstinate that she couldn’t admit when she was in the wrong.
Some Like It Wicked (Hellion's Den) Page 5
