She frowned and pursed her lips. ‘I am quite sure you are an expert in the subject, Mr. Kirkwood but you have no idea what I am looking for.’
‘Is that a challenge, Miss Hathaway?’
She eyed him in alarm. ‘No, it is not!’
This produced a low laugh, which to Audrey’s anxious ears, sounded far too much like a provocative growl. ‘I am merely concerned for you, my dear. Roddy’s virtues are manifest but one cannot expect him to know his way around a pair of sheets until he’s had a mistress or two to show him the ropes.’
She flushed. ‘Do you really think this is… is an appropriate conversation to be having?’
‘Why not? Are you missish, Miss Hathaway?’
‘Missish has nothing to do with it!’ she snapped, then drew a deep breath. She needed to set the fellow in his place and be gone. ‘I do not want to speak with you any more,’ she said with some certainty. ‘This is an extremely inappropriate conversation.’
‘I am an extremely inappropriate man,’ he pointed out. ‘I was merely trying to illustrate the realities of marriage, as I understand them. Not that I have first hand experience, of course, but I have certainly seen the effects it has on its participants. Especially those married to paragons. Allingham is burdened by the weight of his own conventionality. I suppose,’ he added, ‘that such men are the reason why so many women resort to taking lovers after they have produced an heir. Tedium can be ghastly. Do you think you will take a lover?’
She gaped at him, scarcely able to believe he was saying such things. No man – no gentleman – would ever dream of talking to a lady in such a way. Clearly he was no gentleman although, she noted uneasily, that did not seem to matter as much as it should. Now that she had begun to take notice, she realized his close proximity was having a peculiar effect on her as her insides were fluttering in the most alarming way. It was a strange sensation, coupled as it was with indignation and anger.
‘Do you usually go about saying such things to perfect strangers? Have you no sense of… of…’
‘Decency? Good manners? I thought we had already established that I do not.’ he regarded her, expression inscrutable. ‘Do I make you uncomfortable, Miss Hathaway?’
‘Do you want to make me uncomfortable?’ she countered swiftly,
He seemed to hesitate for a moment. ‘You have me there, I’m afraid. I find that I certainly want something from you.’
Her heartbeat accelerated, responding to something in his voice. She did not fully understand either the sudden sense of urgency that gripped her or the hot flush of aching need that suffused her but she knew that both were entirely due to the man standing so close to her. Too close. Dangerously close. She knew that she was in a precarious situation and that the safest thing to do was to swiftly retreat. Unfortunately her feet seemed to be rooted to the floor.
‘Mr. Kirkwood,’ she began, then stopped, at a loss. What was happening to her? She had no idea what was going on. She had never felt quite so… so stimulated! She was intensely aware of him in ways she did not know she could be aware of somebody, her body responding to him in a purely visceral way, desire fluttering like a bird’s wings in the pit of her stomach, feathering her skin with a shiver of unexpected goosebumps. She felt trapped; mesmerized by those dark eyes.
He frowned down at her, his smoky eyes glinting dangerously in the candlelight. ‘Well this is unexpected,’ he murmured, sounding unusually grim.
‘W-what?’
‘This. You feel it too, do you not?’
Audrey swallowed. ‘I do not know what you are talking about. I need to return to... to my mother.’
‘You certainly do,’ he agreed, the words edged with a new tension that had not been there before. ‘You should certainly return to your mother.’
‘Yes.’ Having discussed it, logic dictated that she do as her words suggested, but Audrey remained where she was. Move, the voice of reason within her commanded. Just go. But she did not go.
He reached out a hand, his finger brushing aside a stray tendril of curling hair before he ran his knuckles lightly along the line of her jaw. Something clenched unexpectedly within her, so tight that she shuddered, breath catching at the back of her throat. He heard the small sound and nodded. ‘I know. I feel it too. Damned witchcraft, that’s what it is. You are not my type at all, Miss Hathaway.’
Audrey moistened her lips. ‘What is your type?’ Her voice sounded husky; unfamiliar.
It was mad to ask such questions. She did not know what possessed her. She certainly should not be asking questions like that of this man. He might just tell her. Sure enough…
‘Females who know what they want, who know what they can expect from me. No commitments, just an enjoyable encounter. A few hours spent reveling in each other’s bodies, giving mutual satisfaction. You would never have experienced such encounters, my dear Miss Hathaway, but I think I could promise you an introduction to the pleasures of the body that you would never forget.’
Oh, how hypnotic was that devilishly deep, velvety voice. That voice, along with those words, had her shivering on the edge of some glorious, arcane abyss. She could not even find it within her to be shocked by his words. She had gone beyond shocked. His touch had scattered anything that might have been reason and good sense. He had withdrawn his hand after that small caress but she found herself desperately wishing he would touch her again. She wanted to protest, to tell him that he was presumptuous beyond measure, speaking to her in such a way. But her body was caught up in a kind of siren song and refused to return her to sanity.
‘Do you know what I want to do right now, Miss Hathaway?’ It might have been her imagination, but she could have sworn that his breath was coming a good deal faster than it had been and his voice was thick.
It took a good deal of effort, but she managed to respond. ‘What?’
‘I want to take you into that conveniently secluded alcove behind us and discover the delights that I am sure lay beneath that very pretty gown of yours. I want to explore your body and teach it to appreciate the possibilities of pleasure – possibilities I am very sure you never knew existed until this moment. But more than anything, I want to feel your hands on me, Miss Hathaway for I suspect that it will give me a measure of gratification that will surprise even my jaded soul.’
Audrey stared up at him, ensnared by the suggestive note in his voice, as much as the words. In truth, she could hardly focus on the words, too caught up in the other sensations that were flooding her.
‘You should not have followed me up here,’ she said, almost despairingly.
‘It’s a little too late now,’ he replied, tone suddenly savage. ‘Dear God, I should be hung for what I am about to do.’
‘What are you about to do?’ she whispered.
‘Don’t play the ingénue, my lovely,’ he grimaced. ‘Not in this. I am going to do exactly what you want me to do.’
‘I should not be here,’ she said again, rather helplessly.
‘No,’ he agreed, reaching for her. ‘I think it safe to say this is the last place you should be.’
Half of her had sensed what he had intended and she was ready for him, moving forward into his embrace. She did not think; there was nothing to think about for he had her then, sliding an arm around her waist, his head bending to shut out the world and that small voice of reason that she had been unable – or unwilling – to heed. Everything, the music, the muffled roar of conversation below, everything vanished in an instant, subsumed by something both potent and perilous and utterly delicious. She had a moment of stunned disbelief that her body could respond so readily but it was quickly drowning in the sensations rioting through her like an avalanche. Her senses were open and aware, taking in the scent of him, the sinuous strength of the arm that pinned her close and the hard, almost shocking vitality of that body as it pressed itself close to her own. Intense sensation cascaded through her, flooding her with so many emotions that she felt overwhelmed. That small part of her that recognized this was madness still clamored to be heard; she should not be allowing him to touch her, let along press himself so intimately against her. She knew that. It was all so much madness. But that tiny voice did not stand a chance, overwhelmed as it was by the swift succession of delicious impressions that his touch generated.