A Persistant Attraction

by Silvia Violet

  She sensed a presence behind her. Turning, she saw Rhys. He took her arm, and she nearly jumped at the sensation the innocent contact produced.

  “Please excuse the interruption, Lord Arlington. I need to speak with my wife for a moment.”

  His words startled Amanda. It would take some time for her to realize the term wife actually applied to her.

  “Certainly, my boy. Congratulations on securing such a beauty.”

  “Thank you.” Rhys took her arm, and she allowed him to lead her from the drawing room. When they started down the hall toward the back of the house, she attempted to stop their progress. “Where are we going?”

  “To bed.”

  “But we can’t. Not yet.”

  “I refuse to waste another minute on tedious conversation.”

  “Aunt Claire made me promise to stay with the guests until after supper.”

  “I’ve married you. We’ve the license to prove it. They can all dashed well leave us to the business of married couples.”

  “Everyone will know why we’ve gone.”

  “Of course they will, but that will be the case no matter what time we retire. Why not give them something more exciting to talk about? Our passions are already renowned among ton circles.”

  Why did she care about the guests’ opinions anyway? “I suppose we wouldn’t want to ruin our reputation.”

  “Lead the way.” Rhys gestured toward the back staircase.

  As she led Rhys to her room, Amanda felt an uncharacteristic wave of shyness come over her. She’d anticipated this moment for days, but now that it was actually here she didn’t know how to proceed. She had no doubt that the other women Rhys had bedded had far more experience than she. Could she truly please him? When they entered her room, she turned her back on Rhys and walked to the window, needing a few moments reprieve.

  Rhys watched Amanda. She twisted her hands together over and over as she looked down at the guests in the courtyard. He had no doubt she was nervous. It was one thing to be swept up in the heat of passion and quite another to know exactly what would happen this night. He even felt a trifle anxious himself. So much was at stake for him. If he couldn’t make her accept him as a true husband, they would both be in for a stretch of lonely years.

  He moved behind her, and she turned to face him, her face flushed, her breathing already shallow. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Ever since you appeared in this luscious dress, I’ve thought of nothing but taking it off you. Your modiste has quite an eye.”

  Amanda glanced down at her dress. “My aunt thought it much too immodest for a wedding dress, but Madame Guitreaux assured her it was the height of fashion.”

  “I must insist that you return to her.”

  Amanda nodded, but said nothing.

  Rhys couldn’t think of anything to say either. His body was growing impatient. He wanted to bring forth the passionate woman who had tempted him to the brink of madness in his study. He cupped Amanda’s head and began removing pins from her hair.

  As the artful array of twists and curls tumbled, Amanda gazed at him. Her eyes flashed with desire, but apprehension lurked there as well.

  “Don’t be afraid. I seek only to pleasure you.” She shook her hair loose as he pulled the last pin free. “I know. I—” He placed a finger on her lips. “Don’t try to explain. Just feel.” She closed her eyes then and inhaled slowly. Rhys skimmed his lips along her hairline. When he reached her ear, he blew softly into it. She shivered. He smiled against her skin as he traced the line of her neck with the tip of his tongue, barely touching her.

  He nipped at her collarbone and continued his exploration down to the neckline of her dress. He placed butterfly kisses across the swell of her breasts, teasing her, hoping she’d forget her distress.

  When he felt some of her tension ease, he released her and took a few steps back.

  “Take off your dress.”

  Her eyes flew open. “I thought you wanted to remove it.” Rhys smiled. He imagined that she was as excited by the prospect of undressing for him as she was unnerved. “Consider it a challenge. Seduce me until I can’t help but touch you.”

  She smiled. She never could resist going head to head with him. Her hands rose to the small buttons at her bodice. One by one she undid them. As she finished with each one, she pulled the fabric apart slowly, revealing a satiny chemise which rode so low on her breasts Rhys was amazed they hadn’t sprung free from their confines.

  When she finished with the buttons, she reached behind her and untied the sash that circled her waist, bending forward so her hair fell around her like a curtain. When she was done, she flung her head back, letting her hair settle around her shoulders. Once again, Rhys was her amazed by her natural seductive instincts.

  She smiled and turned her back to him. In a coquettish voice, she said, “My lord, I’m afraid I cannot reach all the buttons. Either you will have to touch me, or I will be forced to call for my maid.”

  “I will touch the buttons, nothing more.”

  Somehow, he resisted the call of her creamy skin as he unfastened her dress and exposed the lace-trimmed shift to her waist. He sat back on the edge of the bed, wishing he could undo his trousers and release the pressure from his rock hard cock.

  “Turn around.” She did as he asked, deliberately wiggling her body to entice him.

  God, he wanted her bad. Neither of them would be getting any sleep that night.

  She let the dress fall off her shoulders and pool on the floor. After working the laces for a few moments, she removed her short stays without assistance. Now, she stood before him in nothing but her chemise and stockings. He couldn’t stop staring at her breasts. The shift was thin enough to show off the rosy color of her nipples. Their hard peaks pressed against the fabric, revealing her excitement.

  After a few moments, he realized her progress had stopped. He glanced up. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and uncertainly was evident in her eyes.

  “Don’t stop now. I want to see you utterly naked.”

  “It’s not fair that you are still fully dressed while I’m—” She ran a hand over her chemise.

  He reached for her hand and pulled her toward him until she stood between his legs.

  “Lovemaking doesn’t have to be fair, dearest Amanda. You’re mine now, and I want to look at you.”

  He instantly knew he’d said the wrong thing. Anger burned in her eyes, turning them to steel rather than the purple gray of passion.

  “I’m not anyone’s property. That is exactly why I wished to remain unwed.”

  “Amanda, I have no intention of treating you as my property.”

  “But you think you can command my behavior whether in the bedroom or out of it. I won’t stand for it. I went along with this marriage to protect my family from scandal, but I will not allow you to control me.”

  Rhys clenched his fists. He wanted very badly to smash something. How had this gone so wrong so fast? He knew Amanda had been enjoying herself. Would she really let one wrong phrase ruin their entire evening? “I do not wish to control you.”

  “Of course you do. You’ve been trying to dictate my actions since I first asked for your help. Maybe since we first met. Now you have the power of the law behind you.”

  “I have no intention of exacting any legal rights against you. The only time I’ve tried to exert my control was to protect you from mortal danger.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and stepped away. “I want us to make an agreement.”

  Anger burned in his gut. “What sort of agreement?”

  “We will appear together as a married couple for as long as it is necessary to kill the scandal we created. Then we release each other from this farce.” Rhys squeezed his eyes closed, wishing he could open them and time would have turned back. If only they could start this evening over. Surely his wife of a few hours was not suggesting that in a few months, they would both seek comfort elsewhere and behave as mere acquaintances.

&n
bsp; He supposed the irony was appropriate. Not too long ago, he might have suggested the same thing had he married one of the women his mother tried to foist on him. What a joke fate was having with him. Now he, not some simpering debutante he’d taken to wife, was the one pining for a love match.

  Despair and anger warred inside him. Anger escaped first, but not the fiery rage that so often boiled up in him when he was near Amanda. Instead, he was left chilled and wanting to hurt her as deeply as she had hurt him.

  “If that is what you wish, I will have my solicitor draw up a contract for us.” Her eyes widened.

  “If this marriage is to be merely a business arrangement, then I see no reason not to formalize it. I wouldn’t want there to be any questions about what I do and do not expect of you.”

  He stood and plucked his coat from the chaise where he’d left it earlier.

  “Where are you going?” The anger had gone out of her voice. Now she sounded scared.

  “A husband has no obligation to inform his wife of his whereabouts.”

  “But what will people say?”

  Rhys took evil delight in the pain he heard in her words. “Perhaps you should have thought of that before you made such a suggestion.” He barely resisted slamming the door as he left the room and headed toward the back stairs as fast as he could walk.

  *

  Hours later, Rhys sat alone in the lounge of his club. He’d drunk nearly two bottles of whiskey since he’d arrived. But no matter how much of the burning liquid he poured down his throat, the memory of Amanda’s cold words still haunted him. How far would he have to run to be rid of her? All the way to hell?

  He’d nearly started his journey there the moment he’d left her house. His first stop had been La Nuit Longue, a place where a man could discreetly satisfy any desire, no matter how exotic. He’d been a frequent customer before he’d met Amanda.

  He’d actually engaged a young woman for the evening. But when she’d begun to disrobe for him, all he could think of was Amanda. A sick part of him was still determined to quench his desire where he could. But he knew if he went through with his plan and Amanda found out, he would ruin his chances of reconciliation. He’d thanked the young woman for her time, tipped her handsomely, and made a hasty exit.

  His next stop had been a gambling hell where he’d proceeded to lose several hundred pounds. Fortunately, he had the sense to leave before doing something really foolish like gambling away his estate or his entire fortune. He’d always laughed at the self-destructive behavior of men who’d had their hearts broken, thinking it could never happen to him. Now he knew better.

  Next he’d gone to his club. There were few men about at that time of day. Most members were out enjoying the evening round of parties, and those that were present seemed to crave solitude as much as he.

  He polished off the bottle sitting in front of him and decided he might as well go home before he collapsed. He was expected to escort his wife to his home in the morning.

  He wondered if anyone would be able to wake him considering how much he’d drunk. At the moment he didn’t give a damn what lies Amanda had to tell her family if he didn’t appear.

  When he stood from his table, someone called his name from the doorway. It was Faron d’Eglantine. He’d been hoping for a chance to talk with the man privately for the last week. Of course the opportunity would present itself on this particular night. He wasn’t sure he could pull his scattered wits together, but somehow he managed a simple greeting and invited d’Eglantine to join him.

  “I understand you’ve been looking for me.”

  “Indeed I have.”

  D’Eglantine ordered another bottle of whiskey, poured himself a glass and refilled the one in front of Rhys. “Rumor has it you’re interested in learning more about my…work here.”

  “I am. I think we might share many of the same sentiments.”

  “So you are not what you seem, after all?”

  Rhys lifted his glass to his lips, pretending to drink. “Who really is?”

  “Touché. My work is quite specialized. How am I to know you are the right man to assist me?”

  “How might I convince you?”

  D’Eglantine pulled a card from his coat pocket. “Meet me at noon tomorrow at this address. I have a job for you that will help me assess your abilities and your ideology. If I like what I see, perhaps our relationship can continue.” Rhys pocketed the card and stood. “Tomorrow then.” He bade d’Eglantine good night and exited the club.

  *

  Amanda paced the length of her sitting room. A mix of anxiety, fear and anger had every nerve in her body on edge. She had not seen Rhys since the night of their wedding.

  Two days had now passed without so much as a note.

  When he had not returned to her aunt’s house the morning after the wedding, her mind had whirled with all the epithets she would throw at him as soon as he appeared.

  When he still hadn’t arrived at noon, she’d managed to instruct the servants in packing her things into a carriage. She was too humiliated to admit the truth even to her aunt and sister, so she told them a serious family matter had called Rhys away and gave them his apologies. Elise had lamented this most unromantic start to a marriage, but Amanda knew Aunt Claire didn’t believe her excuse despite the older woman’s silence.

  When she’d arrived at Rhys’s townhouse with all her belongings in tow, Amanda had expected him to be there, perhaps sleeping off a night of drunken revelry. When she discovered he’d been home earlier but had gone out, not even deigning to leave her a note, she’d nearly smashed up his foyer in her anger. Ultimately, she’d reined in her temper and behaved as befit a lady of her station.

  Meadows sent a pair of maids to assist her in unpacking and asked if he could help her in any other way. She wanted to ask him to explain what the hell was wrong with his employer and how the man could dare to be so rude, but she hadn’t the nerve. She spent the afternoon in her room, crying.

  When Rhys still hadn’t returned that night, she considered going back to Aunt Claire’s house. But the prospect of telling her aunt and sister about Rhys’s disappearance was more dreadful than spending a night alone.

  She considered going to look for him, but the thought of what she might discover kept her from taking that route. It was one thing to suspect he’d flown to the arms of a former mistress, and another to find proof of it. No matter how angry she was at him or how much she professed to want out of their marriage, the thought of him with another woman brought tears to her eyes.

  As the night wore on, her anger turned to worry. What if his disappearance had nothing to do with their argument? What if he’d been working on his investigation and been injured or…killed? Pain squeezed her heart like a vise.

  *

  Lord Farrington ran a hand through his hair as he approached the steps to Viscount Langley’s townhouse. Those who knew him would barely recognize the ruffled, distracted man who’d walked the distance from his home in order to collect his thoughts.

  Rumors brought to him by some of his best contacts indicated that Les Centimes was planning a big strike in the coming days. As far as he knew, his organization was no closer to stopping them than they had been a week ago.

  He was counting on Rhys Stanton. The two of them had never been friends, but Stanton had Farrington’s respect and Farrington knew the man was the best damn agent he’d ever worked with. Now, Stanton had disappeared. From what his men told him, the man had not even shown up to escort his new wife to his home. No matter how Stanton and his lady might have fought, Farrington knew Stanton would never shirk his duty so publicly.

  He had expected a visit from Stanton over a week ago but received only a cryptic note indicating Stanton was attempting to make contact with d’Eglantine. When he heard about the scandal Stanton and Miss Halverston had created and their forthcoming nuptials, he understood why Stanton had failed to keep their appointment. But he’d heard nothing from the man in the last few days
, and none of his summons had been answered.

  Earlier that morning, he’d gone to Stanton’s home and insisted to see him. His valet said Stanton was not home, but Farrington refused to believe it. He’d gone so far as to wrestle Meadows out of the way and search the house. He found it devoid of anyone but servants.

  Mrs. Stanton’s absence was curious. Rhys’s butler said she was out making calls, but ladies did not make calls at such an early hour. If his concern continued to grow, he

  would locate the former Miss Halverston and ascertain what she knew of her husband’s whereabouts.

  He hoped Stanton was only being difficult, but he feared his man had been captured by Les Centimes. If so, he might already be dead. Stanton had been working alone, so there were no other agents to seek out, but Stanton had made use of his friendship with Langley. Farrington was desperate enough to reveal his connection to Stanton in order to find out what Langley knew.

  The servant who took his card disappeared for a long time. Farrington braced himself for another confrontation. But when the man returned, he ushered Farrington in and asked him to wait in the study.

  “Lord Farrington,” Langley’s voice echoed from the doorway.

  “Good morning, Lord Langley. I am sure you are curious about the nature of this visit.”

  “Indeed I am. I haven’t had the pleasure of your company since that night of whist almost a year ago.”

  The one and only time the two men had met had been over a game of whist at one of the most inane routs Farrington had ever attended. The only highlight of the evening had been his winning a pile of money off Langley.

  “Has it been that long?”

  Langley smiled. “I made payment in full at the time, did I not?” Farrington laughed. “Indeed you did. This has nothing to do with such frivolity, I assure you.”