As his thoughts continued to swirl through the unsettling emotions she inspired, a small knowing smile curved her lips. “You’re all the same, you know.”
Though he suspected he knew what she was referencing, he still asked, “We are?”
“Men. Always wanting what you can’t have.”
“Are you referring to my desire for you?” he asked in a low tone.
“Of course,” she replied with an elegant gesture and a manipulatively coy smile. “I can feel your hunger like heat in the air between us.”
“There is no reason to deny it. I made clear at our last meeting what I want.”
“That’s right. All of me,” she said sardonically as she sipped her brandy.
Setting his snifter to the side, he leaned forward—bringing the heat of his desire with him—until he could see the pupils of her eyes widen a moment before her lashes swept lower to conceal her reaction.
“Madam,” he murmured in a tone heavy with truth. “I am no longer a young man. There is more of my life spread out behind me than what I expect to encounter ahead of me. With that understanding comes a certainty about what I want to fill the time I have remaining. If you still believe my pursuit of you has anything at all to do with business, you’d be horribly mistaken.”
Callista focused on breathing as the force of his words shot through her like white-hot lightning. For a moment, it felt like his declaration changed her intrinsically. Her cellular makeup felt altered by his words, which told her something unexpected—she had believed it was all a business ploy on his part, and now that she knew it wasn’t, everything was different.
Still, many years of self-preservation urged her to reply with sharp finality. “As I said previously,” she noted with a smoothly forced smile, “you cannot have me.”
“Not yet,” he murmured, repeating the words he’d spoken to her once before.
The man’s patience was awe-inspiring and irritating beyond belief. Now that she had been forced to acknowledge the truth and depth of his desire, which went beyond basic lust to something far more terrifying, she also had to admire his determination to stay the course of seduction with slow and steady intent.
Despite her constant resistance.
Callista glanced to the snifter cradled in her palm. She was due for another pour but realized she’d likely had more than enough already. She couldn’t exactly recall what had prompted her to share the man’s gift with him. Likely, it had simply been the desire not to enjoy the pleasure alone. But now that the lovely liquor had softened and warmed her body in such a delightful way and was starting to melt her insides, as well, she feared remaining in Mr. Maxwell’s presence any longer.
She was liable to starting rethinking this whole seduction thing and that would not be good for her.
And why was that again?
It didn’t matter.
Setting her glass aside, she rose to her feet in a graceful, sinuous motion. Unfortunately, she miscalculated the degree of her inebriation and her head spun for a moment as the world tipped precariously on its axis.
Maxwell noticed her slight loss of balance before she could correct it. Though still in the process of rising to his feet, he immediately grasped her waist to steady her. The heat and strength of his hands on her body, soaking through the thin layers of satin and silk, triggered a rush of desire through her blood. It swirled and spun then settled heavily in her center.
Foolish desire. Reckless need. Desperate longing.
Still holding her secure in his hands, he continued to his full height until they stood facing each other with bare inches between them. Callista knew real fear in that moment. Fear unlike any she’d experienced before because it touched a part of her she’d believed to be nonexistent.
“Shall I let you go?”
His low-spoken words could be taken as a request for assurance that she’d regained her balance. Or they could be taken as something else entirely. Callista chose to respond to the less detrimental option. Obviously.
“I won’t tumble to the floor, I assure you.”
He smiled. A devastating expression of subtle amusement and undeniable appreciation. Nothing seemed to dissuade this man.
His fingers tensed briefly against the muscles of her low back as his thumbs pressed firmly to her belly. Sensation erupted throughout her body, touching on every secret little corner of her being. Then he withdrew his hands, chilling her body with an intense sense of loss.
She shook it off.
“Although it’s been a lovely evening, Mr. Maxwell, I must be off.”
“I’ll escort you home.”
“I’ve been making my own way in the world for a very long time. I’ll manage.”
“Just because you can doesn’t mean you have to.”
For some reason, his words struck a chord within her. It both scared her and irritated her.
He wanted to insinuate himself into her life? Fine.
“If you really want to accompany me somewhere, join me for my brother’s little get-together tomorrow.”
His expression revealed only a hint of the surprise she’d anticipated.
“Is that a genuine invitation?”
She gave a casual shrug. “Why the hell not. At least I’d have someone to converse with. I’ll be round to pick you up.”
Chapter 6
“Your brother lives here?” Erik asked as Pendragon’s carriage pulled to a stop in front of a palatial mansion in the heart of Mayfair.
The lady seated beside him tossed him a smirking smile as a groom opened the carriage door. “He does.”
Erik stepped from the vehicle then turned to offer her his hand. As typical, there was a very slight hesitation before she slid her leather-clad fingers along his palm and allowed him to assist her to the pavement. “He is an aristocrat?”
Her laugh was a delicate snort. “Far from. But he did marry one.” She lifted a fine brow. “Now you understand why I invited you.”
“I might,” he replied with a subtle grin. He’d suspected the evening would be rather interesting, but he was getting a sense he’d underestimated by a significant degree.
They were let into the house by a footman the size and approximate shape of a bull. Tall and solid with beefy shoulders and ham-sized fists. The grand entry hall was warm and welcoming, with gleaming parquet floors, rich mahogany wainscoting, and the scent of evergreen filling the air. Fresh boughs of Christmas greenery wound around the stairway banister and hung in heavy swags from the crown molding. Carefully placed candles lent a warm glow to the scene.
A very proper-looking butler greeted them next. After taking their outerwear, he led them to a well-lit drawing room, where festive ivy, holly, and mistletoe formed an enormous wreath trimmed with red ribbon that hung over the fireplace. Pausing in the doorway, the butler announced them as “Miss Callista Hale and guest, Mr. Erik Maxwell.”
Callista. The name snaked delicately through Erik’s mind. Most beautiful.
“Lissy!”
A great hulk of a man came striding forward, essentially blocking out the rest of the room and any other occupants from Erik’s view. He was larger even than the footman had been, though with his long tawny hair falling loose about his shoulders and his muscled physique, he resembled a lion rather than a bull. It became apparent he was Pendragon’s brother once Erik caught sight of the man’s green eyes a few shades darker than hers. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“I got the impression my attendance wasn’t optional,” she replied dryly.
Her brother flashed a wide grin. “It wasn’t. But I’m still glad you made it.” He leaned forward to mutter quietly, “It won’t be as dreadful as you’re thinking.” Then he straightened and jerked his thumb in Erik’s direction without bothering to look at him. “Who’s this?”
The gesture told Erik a few things about the man; he had genuine affection for his sister and that included a protective streak that she either ignored or tolerated. And he was even more brash and cru
de than she ever allowed herself to be.
Pendragon slid him a sly glance from narrowed eyes. The corner of her mouth twisted upward as she replied, “This is Mr. Erik Maxwell. He owns a new gentleman’s club in town and he’s trying to seduce me.”
Her brother gave rough snort as he flicked his glance to Erik. “Good luck with that, mate.” The tone clearly indicated he expected abject failure, but he extended his hand and gave a firm handshake. “Mason Hale. Welcome.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hale. I apologize for the intrusion.”
Hale gave a shrug while a female voice spoke from behind him. “Not at all, Mr. Maxwell. We are quite happy to have you.” A young woman with dark auburn hair and even darker brown eyes stepped around Hale’s great form to offer a polite smile. Though she was nearly dwarfed by the man beside her, she possessed a quietly fierce presence that suggested she could hold her own against far more intimidating adversaries.
“My wife,” Hale stated in a hard tone of warning as he slipped his arm around her slim waist. “Lady Katherine Hale.”
Erik gave a proper bow. “A pleasure, my lady.”
After giving a nod of acknowledgement, the young lady of the house turned her attention to Pendragon and stated with genuine feeling, “Thank you so much for joining us. The children will be down shortly. They were very much looking forward to your visit.”
Looking back to Erik, she added with an arched brow, “I hope you have no aversion to the company of children, Mr. Maxwell.”
“Of course not,” he replied readily.
“Excellent. You’ll likely discover our family prefers not to follow all the strict rules of social engagement.”
“An understatement, luv,” Hale muttered gruffly before pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple. “You married me, after all.”
The lady tossed him a glance of stern reprimand though her lips twitched with humor. Then she turned to gesture toward a seating arrangement placed before the room’s enormous fireplace. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”
“A drink, Lissy?” Hale asked as he started toward a liquor service in the corner.
Erik was surprised by her allowance of the nickname. He suspected that if Mr. Hale was subtly protective of his sister, then she was just as subtly indulgent of him.
“Claret, if you please.”
“I’ll have one, as well,” Lady Katherine said as she led the way and took a graceful position in one of the tall wingback chairs.
“Maxwell?”
“The same. Thank you.”
In an obviously contrary move, Pendragon claimed the other wingback chair in a flourish of her scarlet skirts, leaving the small settee for the men. Erik almost chuckled but managed to hold it in as he took a seat on one end of the narrow sofa. Leaning back, he crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. If the madam’s intention was to make him uncomfortable, she’d have her work cut out for her. If his childhood performing in front of endless crowds taught him anything, it was how to avoid becoming distressed in even the most awkward circumstances.
Hale brought the ladies their wine first, then returned with a glass for Erik. It appeared he hadn’t poured anything for himself. When he saw what the women had done, he made a low sound of displeasure. Sending his sister a swift glare, he took up a spot standing beside the fireplace, where the heat rolling from the roaring flames would likely soon grow unbearable.
Pendragon smirked in self-satisfaction as she sipped from her crystal wineglass.
“Are you only recently of London, Mr. Maxwell?” Lady Katherine asked.
He met the young woman’s directly questioning gaze and noted that, although she wasn’t as boldly beautiful as Madam Pendragon, there was a distinct loveliness in her dark eyes and fine features. “Yes, I arrived in England less than a year ago.”
“And where were you before that?”
Her interest obviously derived from pure curiosity rather than a desire to pry, but Erik had to think on it for a moment. The extensive nature of his past travels tended to make the details blur together after a while. “I believe I was in Istanbul just prior to coming to London.”
Lady Katherine’s dark brows lifted in interest. “Really? Have you traveled to a great many places?”
Erik smiled. “More than I’ve time to name tonight, my lady.”
“How fascinating. I’ve only ever been to Lincolnshire, where I grew up, and now London. I’d love to travel someday.”
“We will, luv,” Hale asserted firmly. “Once everything is settled. Promise.”
His wife responded with a smile that reflected her complete and utter confidence in his words. Erik glanced to Pendragon, wondering if she saw the depth of faith and devotion between her brother and his wife. The Hales’ marriage appeared to be a perfect example of what she claimed didn’t exist.
Likely sensing his regard, she looked back at him. Her green eyes flashed with quiet frustration. When he tilted his head in silent question, she quickly averted her eyes and took another sip of her wine.
“Ah, here they are,” Lady Katherine noted with a smile as she rose to her feet.
Erik stood as well and turned toward the doorway to see a dark-haired boy of twelve or thirteen holding the hand of a small girl with soft blonde curls who could be no more than three years old. The girl looked a bit shy as her blue eyes darted between Pendragon and Erik before settling on Hale.
“Come here, sweet pea,” the big man said in a soft tone.
The girl immediately dashed forward to be swept up in Hale’s arms.
“Frederick,” Lady Katherine said as she gestured for the boy to come forward. “I’d like you to meet Mr. Maxwell. He is an associate of Miss Hale.” Lifting her gaze to Erik, she continued, “Mr. Maxwell, this is my brother, the Duke of Northmoor.”
After executing a bow appropriate for the boy’s rank, Erik replied, “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”
With a surprisingly stoic expression for one so young and a sharply intelligent gaze, the young duke nodded. “And you, Mr. Maxwell. It is always nice to be introduced to new friends.” Turning to Pendragon, he added, “I’m very happy to see you again, Miss Hale. Your visits always bring a welcome bit of excitement to the house.”
Her smile was slightly teasing as she replied, “Then I shall do my best to come by more often.”
“I think Claire would like that, as well,” Hale interjected as he stepped forward with the little girl still held high in his thick arms. “Wouldn’t you like to see Aunt Lissy more often, sweet pea?”
The little girl smiled sweetly and she nodded her head, causing her pale curls to bounce about her cheeks.
“See?” Hale stated emphatically as he gave his sister a smirking look.
She responded with a roll of her eyes.
Turning to Erik, Hale added, “And this is Aunt Lissy’s friend, Mr. Maxwell.”
Erik tilted his head toward the girl and offered a gentle smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Claire.”
After blushing prettily, she murmured softly, “Merry Christmas.”
“And Merry Christmas to you.”
“Well done, sweet pea,” Hale whispered to the child as he set her down. The little girl went immediately to Lady Katherine, who scooped her up and placed her in her lap as she regained her seat.
Hale returned to his spot by the fireplace and the young duke took a seat on the settee next to Erik.
They continued to exchange small talk for a while. Lady Katherine questioned him a little further on his favorite places while Hale seemed intent on irritating his older sister. For her part, Pendragon appeared mostly relaxed, if a bit more restrained than he’d grown accustomed to seeing her. Likely, she was making an effort to hold back some of her more biting replies to her brother for the sake of the children. It became clear that Hale was fully aware of his sister’s predicament and used it against her. She managed to say quite a lot, however, with her searing gaze, which only appeared to amuse Hale all the more.
At o
ne point, while the children were busy on the other side of the room, admiring the snow falling outside the large bay window, her frustration finally got the better of her.
“Really, Mason, must you insist on calling me that dreadful nickname. I haven’t been Lissy since you were a little brat who couldn’t say my name properly.”
Her brother simply grinned wide and teasing. “Sorry, sis. You’ll always be Lissy to me.”
Pendragon glanced to Lady Katherine. “How the hell do you put up with him?”
The lady arched her brow and slid the man under discussion a look that sparked with intimate heat before replying in a perfectly flat tone, “He’s proven to have his uses.”
Hale snorted a rough laugh, while Pendragon rose to her feet and smoothed the wrinkles from her gown. “Well, he certainly doesn’t have much to offer in his head.”
“Depends which you’re referencing,” Hale retorted crudely.
His sister responded with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me. I’m in need of a brief respite from all this family accord.”
As she swept from the room, Lady Katherine turned a harsh eye to her husband. “Do you always have to be so irritating? That’s probably why she doesn’t come by more often.”
“You know that’s not why and, yes, I do. My sister requires regular reminders that she belongs to a world that extends beyond the house off St. James.” Turning to Erik, he added, “I’d guess Maxwell here knows what I mean.”
He did but he knew better than to enter the fray.
“Could you at least try to make these rare visits more pleasant and enjoyable?” Lady Katherine pressed.
Hale shrugged, unconcerned. “If they were pleasant, she’d hate them even more.”
Erik rose to his feet. “Please, excuse me.” Leaving the couple to continue their argument without his audience, he left the drawing room and looked about the awe-inspiring entry hall. After a moment, he noticed a faint light visible beneath a door at the far end of the hall.
Walking quietly across the parquet floor, he opened the door without knocking.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2) Page 123
