Saints above, she thought as her heart knocked hard inside her chest, her pulse leaping as it hadn’t leapt in years––if it ever had at all.
Schooling her features so they revealed none of her inner turmoil, she gave him a polite nod. “Pardon me, sir.” She waited, expecting him to step aside.
“You know, I don’t believe I shall,” the man drawled in a velvety rumble that sent tingles chasing over her skin.
Her eyes met his again. “Excuse me? What did you say?”
“That I’m not sure I shall pardon you, or let you go on your way. You’re far too lovely not to detain.” Smiling again, he executed an elegant bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Leopold Byron. My intimates, however, call me Leo.”
Cocky, isn’t he? Well, she’d met cocky men many times before.
She gave him a long, cool stare. “Do they? How nice for them. Now, I must insist you step aside. We haven’t been properly introduced. As you ought to know, a gentleman never speaks directly to a lady with whom he is not acquainted. Pity one of your intimates isn’t here to do the honors. Good evening, my lord.”
She took a step to the right.
He matched her move, impeding her path once again. “Shall I go find our host, then?” he asked pleasantly. “I’m sure Elmore would be happy to effect an introduction. Frankly, though, it seems like a great lot of bother, particularly since we are conversing already.”
Reaching toward the tray of a passing servant, he picked up two glasses. “Champagne?” he offered. Smiling that devastating smile again, he held out one of the crystal flutes with its golden liquid effervescing inside.
Audacious and arrogant—those were the two best words to describe him. That and handsome in a sinful way no man had a right to be.
Call me Leo indeed.
She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused, particularly since she was sure part of his strategy in waylaying her was to provoke a strong reaction. Still, she found herself accepting one of the proffered glasses, if for no other reason than to give herself time to steady her nerves.
“As I doubt you’ll volunteer your name, not without Elmore’s aid at least,” Lord Leo continued, “I suppose I must try guessing on my own. Lady Thalia Lennox, is it not? I confess I could not help but recognize you.”
“Oh?” she said in a lowering tone, the wine suddenly sour on her tongue.
Of course, she realized, she ought to have known that he was only playing games and knew her by reputation. Everyone in the Ton did, it seemed––even if they wouldn’t associate with her any longer. “Then you have me at even more of a disadvantage than I realized, my lord.”
“Not at all, since we have only just met and need time to learn about each other.”
“I am sure you’ve heard all you need to know about me. Divorce trials will do that for a woman. Now, if you’ll––”
“If you’re concerned that I mind a bit of scandal, I don’t. I’ve weathered a few of them myself over the years, so such matters make no difference to me.”
He’d been embroiled in scandals, had he? Vaguely she remembered mention of various members of the Byron family being involved in deeds that had shocked Society at one time or another. But none of their acts had made any of the Byrons outcasts. And being that Lord Leo was a man, the Ton was, of course, more apt to forgive, no matter how serious the trespasses might have been.
As for his over the years remark, he didn’t look old enough to have weathered all that many scandals. In fact, just how old was he? Or maybe she should say how young?
Now that she looked more closely, she couldn’t help but notice his youthfully lithe physique and unlined countenance. He was a man of confident maturity, of that there was no question, yet she sensed that the full height of his power, his male prime, as it were, still lay ahead of him.
Good heavens, is he even thirty?
Suddenly she knew he was not, a realization that was just this side of appalling, considering the fact that her thirty-second birthday was due to arrive next month.
She knew she needed to leave now more than ever. “It has been . . . interesting meeting you, Lord Leopold, but I really must be going.”
“Why? The evening is early yet. Surely you can remain a while longer?”
“Truly, I cannot,” she said.
He gave her a shrewd look, as if he saw right through her excuses. “Afraid you might enjoy yourself? Or are you worried I’m going to stare down your dress like Teaksbury?”
Her mouth dropped open before she could recall herself.
“It was rather hard to miss that crass display of his,” Lord Leo remarked. “The man’s a boor. It’s a wonder he wasn’t actually drooling on you. Not that I can entirely blame him, given your irresistible feminine charms. Still, were I to feast my eyes upon you, I promise it would leave you in no doubt of my sincere admiration.”
Slowly his gaze dipped down, moving gradually over her body in way that felt almost like a caress.
She shivered inwardly.
When he met her eyes again, his own were alight with unrepentant desire. “You are the most exquisite woman I have ever beheld. Even a god would find himself tempted by you.”
A hot flush burst over her skin, shocking her with its force. Only barely did she resist the urge to reach up and cover her hot cheeks with her hands. The sensation was truly singular, considering she hadn’t blushed since her girlhood and her first London Season.
Experienced women did not blush.
Yet this outrageous young lord with his heart-stopping smile and velvety voice roused emotions in her that she hadn’t realized she still possessed. He made her feel in ways she hadn’t felt for years, stirring cravings she’d buried long ago and had no wish to resurrect.
“Now,” he said, his voice husky, “why don’t we go somewhere private so we can get even better acquainted? Your town house perhaps? Once we’re alone, I want you to call me Leo. As I said before, all my intimates do.”
All his bedmates, he meant, his intentions clear.
Without even knowing what she was doing, she flung the contents of her glass up into his face, causing champagne to splash everywhere.
He blinked wine out of his eyes, a surprised expression on his dripping face.
“You and I shall never be intimates. Good night, my lord.”
Spinning around, she marched toward the door.
As she did so, she caught sight of a man standing across the room––a man she would have thought was Leopold Byron had she not known he was still dripping somewhere behind her. Her step wobbled slightly as her mind worked to figure out the unexpected anomaly.
Twins? Good God, are there two of him?
And his brother was laughing, making no effort at all to contain his amusement.
Well, let him laugh.
As for the rest of the guests whose stares pierced her from all directions, she was used to such scrutiny.
The entire incident would be in tomorrow’s papers, of course.
But what do I care? Tossing champagne into a man’s face was nothing, not compared to what she’d been through already. For when you’ve known the worst, the rest is naught but a trifle.
• • •
Leo withdrew a silk handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and dried his face as he watched Thalia Lennox disappear from view with a final flourish of her red skirts.
Lawrence appeared at his side moments later, his grin so wide it was a wonder it didn’t split his cheeks.
“Well, that went swimmingly,” Lawrence said with a hearty chuckle. “Had her eating right out of the palm of your hand, at least until she decided to give you a champagne bath!” He laughed again. “You owe me twenty quid. Pay up.”
“I will when we get home.” Leo wiped briefly at his sodden cravat before giving up.
“What on earth did you say to her anyway? I knew she’d rebuff you, but not with quite so much enthusiasm.”
Somewhat begrudgingly, Leo provided him with a br
ief recounting.
Lawrence erupted into fresh gales of laughter, so loudly that the outburst drew every eye.
“Oh, do shut up, won’t you?” Leo told his brother. “I think there might be one scullery maid in the kitchen who hasn’t heard you.”
Rubbing moisture from the corners of his eyes, Lawrence did his best to silence his mirth, though his lips continued to twitch. “My condolences for your loss.” He laid a consoling hand on Leo’s shoulder. “You know what your trouble is?”
Leo sent him a baleful look. “I’m certain you shall be happy to illuminate me.”
“You’re too used to being fawned over by women. When was the last time one of them turned you down? You were, what? Fifteen?”
“Thirteen,” Leo countered, unable to repress a grin. “Remember that gorgeous little chambermaid at Braebourne? She never did let me steal more than a kiss.”
Lawrence’s eyes twinkled with clear recollection. “She let me steal two.”
Leo shot him a fresh glare.
“Never say you weren’t warned,” Lawrence continued. “I told you the ex–Lady K would knock you down and kick you into a convenient corner. From now on, stick to more accessible, and appreciative, females.”
Leo considered his twin’s remark. “I do not believe I shall.”
“What? But surely you’ve had enough.”
“No,” he said, his gut tightening with the knowledge that he wanted Thalia Lennox, now more than ever. She’d said they would never be intimate; he was going to prove her wrong.
“She may have eluded me tonight, but she will be mine,” Leo promised. A smile curved his mouth slowly. “Let the games begin.”
Table of Contents
Praise
Title page
Copyright page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Excerpt from The Last Man on Earth
Excerpt from The Bedding Proposal
The Trouble With Princesses Page 30
