She thought he looked like a Francis? He started to grimace until he noted the dancing light of amusement in her eyes. Two could play at this game. Lifting his hand between them, he caught the edge of her chin with the tip of his finger and lifted her head up until their gazes met. Her skin felt impossibly soft, making him wonder if the rest of her body would be as silky smooth, especially the parts hidden beneath her dress. “Funny you should say that as I was thinking of you as a Mildred. No?” he said innocently when she couldn’t quite contain the slight wrinkling of her nose. “What about Dolores? Or Betty? I’ve got it! Agnes. You do have the look of an Agnes. It is your eyes, I think.”
“Evie,” she snapped. “My name is Evie, you exasperating man!”
Evie. No doubt short for Evangeline or Genevieve. He liked that she had shortened it. It fit her far better.
“Evie,” he repeated in a soft murmur that instantly brought an air of wariness to her expression. “It suits you.” His hand fell away from her chin but he didn’t step back. Truth be told he couldn’t step back. Not when he was so utterly ensnared. Whether she meant to or not – and he highly suspected the latter – Evie had managed to captivate him. There was just something about her that he found irresistible. Perhaps it was because he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to take her by the shoulders and give her a good shake or sink his hands into her hair and kiss her senseless. Or maybe it was her physical beauty. Either way, he wasn’t about to let her slip through his grasp as easily as last time. At least not without learning more about her.
“Do you have a last name, Evie?”
“Longacre. Lady Genevieve Longacre, soon to be Lady Genevieve Reinhold.” She spoke as though throwing down a gauntlet. With a scowl darkening his countenance Aiden picked it up.
“I take it congratulations are in order.” Evie was engaged then. It really should not have come as a great surprise. She was a stunning woman. No doubt men had been clambering over themselves to secure her hand ever since she had made her debut into high society. What did surprise him was the spark of jealousy he felt as he imagined another man kneeling down in front of her. Taking her hand...looking deep into her sparkling green eyes...pledging his undying love and loyalty until the end of time. Aiden’s lip curled. Bugger it. What did this so-called Lord Reinhold have that he didn’t? Besides a title and wealth and Evie’s hand pledged in marriage, that is.
“Thank you ever so much,” she said, her tone so mockingly sweet it dragged on his nerves like nails scraping against a board of chalk. “You are too kind. Now if you will just tell me your name I can return to my companions and you can return to whatever pub you dragged yourself out of.”
Saucy wench, he thought again. Had Evie spoken with true malice he would have turned around on the spot and walked away. He had little use for stuck up highbred ladies and if Evie’s classical features were any indication she was as highbred as they came. But for whatever reason, she wasn’t stuck up. Stubborn and infuriating and so damned tempting his body ached from the force it took to himself from touching her, yes. But stuck up? No. Not that. For even as she pretended to be disgusted by him, there was an unmistakable light of challenge gleaming in her cat-like eyes. Whether Lady Genevieve Longacre chose to admit it or not, she enjoyed sparring with him. And that knowledge was enough to keep his boots firmly planted on the ground, to hell with her fiancé.
“If you find me so terribly loathsome, what importance is my name to you?” he drawled.
She pressed her lips together. “It is not important to me.”
“Really? Because it seems to be.”
“My friends want to know what your name is.”
“And why is that?”
“Insatiable curiosity?” One her hands fluttered impatiently in the air, drawing Aiden’s eye to the tiny sliver of ivory flesh revealed between her glove and the edge of her sleeve. “How am I supposed to know?”
“They’re your friends,” he pointed out reasonably.
“Not at the moment,” she muttered before she stood up on her toes to give them a murderous glance over Aiden’s right shoulder. Settling back on her heels, she fixed her angry glare on him. “Why are you so insistent on making this difficult? I told you my name. It is only fair you tell me yours.”
“But you already promised me your name. Don’t you remember? I was holding your arm, just like this” – with lightening quickness he captured her forearm and slid his hand down until their palms were touching – “and you agreed to a deal. I upheld my end, and you have finally upheld yours. If you want something more you are going to have to barter for it.” As he slid the pad of his thumb across her palm he saw her lips quiver as she took in a quick breath.
Not as immune to my considerable charms as you would like to be, are you? He asked silently. I can promise there is more where that came from, Red. Much, much more. All you have to do is ask...
“Are we back to this already?” Adopting a bored air, she tried to snatch her arm free and gritted her teeth when he held firm. “Fine. What do you want?”
Aiden has his answer ready. “A kiss,” he said. “A kiss for a name is-”
“Preposterous!” she cried. “I would never agree to such a thing.” But no sooner were the words out of her mouth than her gaze dipped down to his lips. Aiden grinned.
“Deny it all you want Red, but there’s a part of you that finds me intriguing.”
“No,” she said with a stubborn shake of her head that sent an auburn curl sliding across her cheek. “Absolutely not.”
He traced the contours of her palm again and chuckled when her eyes flared with awareness. “You know the bad thing about lying?” he asked conversationally as though he were not holding her against her will while trying to trade a kiss for his name. “You can lie all you want to other people, but you can never lie to yourself.”
For a moment there was so much uncertainty and vulnerability in her glistening green eyes it made his heart ache. But then her russet lashes fluttered down, and when they came up again there was nothing in her gaze but derision.
“You wretched man. How dare you presume to seduce me knowing full well I am betrothed to another?”
Aiden’s grin was nothing shy of wicked. “Trust me Red, when I seduce you you’ll know it.”
Her eyes widened. “Let me go! You have no right to touch me, let alone speak to me in such a crude manner. I never should have come over here in the first place.”
“No,” he agreed. “Probably not. But you did, and here we are. A kiss for a name. It’s a fair trade.”
“I would rather kiss a snake!”
“Now you’ve hurt my feelings.” This time when Evie pulled against his grip he let her go. Unprepared for the sudden release she stumbled back, arms flying out. Reacting on pure instinct Aiden sprang forward and secured her against his chest before she could trip backwards over the bench and hurt herself. She felt so slight in her arms, like a tiny butterfly with delicate wings...and a wicked temper.
“Let go of me!” Pushing against his chest with both hands she managed to free herself. Sidestepping around the end of the bench, she regarded him with a fierce expression that only served to intensify his ardor.
Despite her title and the elegance of her clothes Evie was no wilting rose, but rather a snarling wildcat with claws and teeth. No matter that he was on the receiving end of those claws. He would bring her around eventually. No woman, no matter how stubborn, could resist the likes of Aiden Donovan for very long...although to be fair Evie was the wildest female he had ever encountered which most likely explained his growing attraction in the face of such virile animosity. She presented a challenge the likes of which he had never faced. And he did so love a good challenge.
“It seems to me that we’ve reached an impasse, Red.”
Her mouth curled. “It seems we have. And you can stop calling me that now. My name is Lady Genevieve.”
“I like Evie better.”
“You have no right–”
&
nbsp; “It suits you.” Two women leading a fluffy black and white dog appeared around the bend in the path. Craning their necks, they did little to disguise their curiosity as they walked past the bench. Even the dog glanced in Aiden’s direction and released a tiny whuff when he met its inquisitive brown gaze. “Genevieve is the name of a prim and proper woman.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper. “The sort of woman who would never entertain the idea of trading a kiss for a name.”
Evie gasped. “I am not entertaining anything! In fact, I am leaving. Do not touch me,” she threatened as she picked up her skirts and stepped warily past him. “Do not even look in my direction.”
Had Aiden been a gentleman he might have heeded her request. But he wasn’t. With her friends looking on he could not do what he really wanted to do – grab her by the shoulders, spin her around, and kiss her senseless – so he did the next best thing.
“Evie, wait.”
She stopped but did not turn. “Yes?”
Aiden stepped up behind her. He did not touch, but he leaned his head in so close to hers that his warm breath stirred the tiny curls at the nape of her neck as he whispered, “Do you love him?”
Every muscle in her body went tense as a bowstring being drawn back. “Are you referring to my fiancé?”
“To whom else would I be referring? Unless you’ve taken a lover on the side.”
Her jaw clenched. “I fail to see how either of those things are any of your business.”
How he wanted to touch her! Just a gentle caress of her neck or a fleeting glance of his fingertips down her spine. But for once he kept his hands to himself for fear Evie would bolt at the first hint of physical contact. She was like an unbridled filly in that regard. Spirited, brave, and fiery. But push too far, too fast, and she would run like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. “I don’t think you do love him.”
She turned her head sharply to the side. “And why would you presume to know such a thing?”
“Because,” he said in a soft, velvety voice that touched her where his hands could not, “if you did you would not still be standing here talking to me.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Damn the man, but he was right. Evie didn’t love Reinhold and she should have returned to her friends long before now. She could not even say with any sense of certainty what was keeping her here aside from the fluttering in her stomach and a vague feeling of rightness. Of belonging. Of feeling as though somehow, someway, she was right where she needed to be. Which did not make any sense, as the cocky stranger was as far from right for her as night was from day.
He was lewd and uncouth and far too forward. She should have struck him with her reticule the instant he pinned her against the bench and stormed off in a fight of self-righteous anger. Yet here she was, frozen in place with his breath heating the back of his neck.
“You do not know anything about me.” With her head canted to the side she could just meet his unblinking gaze. How blue his eyes were! They reminded her of a clear summer sky with nary a cloud in sight. A woman could get lost in those eyes. It would not be a difficult thing to do. The man may have been an arrogant rake, but he was undeniably handsome in a rough-cut way Evie had always found secretly appealing.
One of the things she disliked about Reinhold – aside from his bland personality – was the fastidious care he took with his appearance. No matter what time of day it was he never had a single hair out of place and his clothes were always impeccably matched. Why, she was willing to bet he spent more time getting ready than she did! Whereas the stranger, while terribly irritating, was far more physically appealing with his scruff of dark beard and tousled black hair sticking out from beneath his cap. His clothes were not nearly as fine as Reinhold’s, but they fit his body quite well, emphasizing his broad shoulders, lean torso, and muscled thighs.
Not that she was looking at his thighs.
Oh, to hell with it. She had looked...but only once or twice.
“I know there is more to you than meets the eye. I know you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His steady cerulean stare held her captivated, making it impossible to look away even if she had wanted to. “I know I feel drawn to you in a way I have never been drawn to another, just as I know you feel drawn to me. Deny it all you want,” he said with a roguish grin when she opened her mouth to protest, “but we both know the truth, Red. There is something between us. I felt it from the first moment we collided. Call it a spark. Call it chemistry. Call it whatever the bloody hell you want, but do not pretend it does not exist.”
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. The smug bastard was right. She did feel something for him. Something she had never felt with anyone else. Something she had certainly never felt with Reinhold.
It does not make a bit of difference, she told herself. You are engaged to another man and even if you weren’t, this one is not for you. Look at him! He is neither titled nor wealthy. You would be destitute within the month and so ruined even your dearest friends would not be able to receive you.
“I need to go.” She spoke firmly, even though they both knew the words were more for her benefit than his. “You have a very high opinion of yourself. One I might consider examining before attempting to woo another poor, unsuspecting woman.”
“Wait.” He reached for her elbow when she spun away from him, but this time she was anticipating his movement and danced out of reach just in time.
“I have waited long enough. Honestly,” she said with a bewildered shake of her head, “what did you hope to accomplish with all of this? Did you think I would risk my reputation for you? Did you think I would leave my fiancé for you? I do not even know you and for all of your fancy words you do not know me either. We are strangers, you and I. Spark or no spark, nothing is ever going to change that.”
Genuine anger, the first she’d seen, flashed in his eyes. “But you would marry a man you do not love?”
“Is there a law against doing such a thing?” Frustration raised the volume of her voice to a near shout. Startled by the forceful sound two collared doves took flight from a nearby bush, their brown wings frantically beating against the air as they swooped low to the ground and vanished from sight. Evie bit her bottom lip. As all of her doubts swam to the surface she suddenly felt perilously close to tears. How could a stranger elicit such a strong reaction out of her? She was an expert at disguising her true emotions. Even her friends did not know her true feelings in regards to Reinhold, nor why she was do desperate to marry him. And yet in less than ten minutes the man standing before her had seen through her façade to the secret she was trying to keep hidden from everyone...and most of all herself.
“Maybe I don’t love him yet,” she whispered. “But I may someday.”
“And that is good enough for you?” he said scornfully. “You deserve more than that, Evie. A woman with your level of passion deserves to love and be loved unconditionally in return. What are you so afraid of?”
Marrying for the wrong reasons.
Never knowing what real love is like.
Trading my freedom for wealth and a title.
Changing who I am to become who my husband wants me to be.
“Nothing.” She lifted her chin. “I am afraid of absolutely nothing. In fact, I will do it.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ll do what?”
“Kiss you. Not here,” she hissed when his gaze immediately dropped to her mouth. “Tomorrow night in the rose gardens outside Grosvenor Square. I will meet you at half past midnight and prove there is nothing between us save what your fanciful imagination had conjured.”
“All right...” he spoke slowly, as though he didn’t believe her. Evie released a brittle laugh.
“Isn’t this what you wanted all along? A kiss for a name?”
“Yes.” He studied her for a moment, his blue eyes so intense she felt as though he was looking straight into her very soul. “Tomorrow at half past midnight, then.”
“Tomorrow at half past midnight,�
�� she agreed. “One kiss, and then I never want to see or hear from you ever again. That is the bargain I would like to make.”
“Fine,” he said, surprising her. “But what if you want more than one?”
“I won’t,” she said confidently.
“We’ll see about that, Red. We’ll see about that.” And then with a wink and an exaggerated tip of his hat he turned and walked away from her, whistling a cheerful tune under his breath.
Waiting until she had regained control of her emotions, Evie returned to her friends. They were all waiting for her with anxious expressions and stumbled over themselves to get out the first question.
“You were gone so long!” Merry blurted. “What did you talk about?”
“Did he hold your hand?” Rosalind asked excitedly. “It looked as though he was holding your hand!”
“What is his name?” Nicola wanted to know.
Tossing back her head, Evie fixed a bland smile on her face as she replied to their questions one by one. “Nothing of importance, he held my arm to steady me when I tripped, and I did not find out his name.”
Merry’s brow creased in bewilderment. “You did not find out his name? But you were gone for so long!”
Evie shrugged. “He did not care to share it. What would you have had me do? Torture him?”
“What did you discuss?” Nicola asked.
“The weather.” For once, Evie did not feel bad about telling a little white lie. After all, it wasn’t as if she could reveal the truth. It was one thing when Merry had snuck off and kissed a stranger, for that stranger had ended up being the Duke of Kendalwood and her future husband. It would be another thing entirely if Evie were caught kissing a commoner. Especially given her engagement! If there was anyone who deserved to be the recipient of her guilt, it was Reinhold. The poor man had never done anything to her – aside from stringing her along for the better part of a year when he had no true intention of asking for her hand – and here she was plotting to kiss someone else. It was shameful.
A Most Inconvenient Love Page 4
