Adam grinned wickedly. "Temper, my little admiral. Temper, temper."
She narrowed her eyes, assessing him. "You are goading me on purpose."
"How astute of you to notice." A lazy smile crossed his lips.
"I can see that you are determined to be difficult," Eve remarked stiffly. Why couldn't he move farther away? Why did he so stir her blood? He was only a corsair after her treasure and her virtue.
"Only with you, my love." His eyes roved over her, absorbing how lovely she was in that amber gown. It did wonderful things to her fiery hair. The fabric cupped her breasts like a lover's hands, clung deliciously to her delightful form. "Have anyone else's kisses ever made your toes curl?"
"You presume too much. And my toes don't curl," she stated emphatically, her fingers crossed behind her back.
"Yes, they do. And, I imagine, much more," he replied, his voice husky. Leaning toward her, he couldn't help but place a brief but tender kiss upon Eve's lush pink lips. He definitely wanted more, but restrained himself. He understood implicitly that all good things came to those who wait, if they weren't stolen first. He intended to be victorious.
Adam's gentle kiss stirred Eve's senses, sending her into a tizzy. Enough! This impish Irish impostor had been playing the tender lover since their arrival over two hours ago, and it had to cease. "Stop being so familiar with me," she hissed.
"If you keep whispering in my ear like that, you little enchantress, I shall ravish you on the spot," he warned.
She quietly and inconspicuously kicked him in the shin.
"Come, now, my little admiral. You must pretend a modicum of civility. Dash it, Eve. A husband can never be too familiar with his wife. Look at Lord Asher and Lady Jane. They can barely keep their hands off each other. How would it look if I ignored you? Think of the scandal! And your funding—we must present a united and loving front as the most devoted of couples if you want it."
"Hmph."
"It's not just your reputation at stake, but my own," Adam continued. "Just because you won't allow me to take you to heaven doesn't mean people should think I can't. Like the Earl and Countess of Wolverton."
Inching back, Eve slowly shook her head, his audacity infuriating. But at the same time, the nearness of his body made her breath quicken. His kisses were addictive, lethal, and made her heart dance. He had the look of a Gypsy and the heart of a rogue. But she was a psychiatrist and made of sterner stuff; she would not be led down the garden path. At least, not while in Asher's private box.
"Why should I care what the earl thinks about you?" she asked.
"A wife knowledgeable about the paranormal world should always care if a master vampire thinks her husband is less than a man. I don't want to be shown to disadvantage," he remarked stubbornly. Before Eve could argue, he added, "Shush. Besides, as my wife you have an obligation to me."
She drew back, astonished. "Your pretending to be my absentee husband obligates me? How dare you, sirrah!"
No matter what she did, she couldn't seem to make a dent in his strategy to act as her spouse. "Surely you must be getting bored with this!"
He bit back a chuckle. "With you, my dear, I could never be bored. That's why I'm crazy about you, crazy for you, crazed to have you. And I must confess, I am ready, willing, and cleverly able to do crazy things to keep you by my side."
"Oh, go and sell your craziness somewhere else," Eve said. "I bought at the office." This bounder was forever teasing, testing, and tormenting her, and the worst thing was, she was never certain whether he was maddeningly sincere or a compulsive liar with lucre or lust in mind.
Adam chuckled. The time for action was here. He placed a hand under his chin and lifted her face to his, and with determination and tenderness he kissed her.
Eve would not be seduced so easily. With pure indignation she fought the feel of his lips, paying no heed to the small, secret place within her that rejoiced in triumph. But after a few moments passed, his lips caressing hers, his fervor had her opening her mouth to protest—only to be routed as Adam quickly took advantage, his tongue dueling with her own.
Heat flooded her system, and Eve felt tiny butterflies in her stomach. Deep, deep down, she felt the stirrings of a hunger long dormant. And good grief, she could feel her toes start to curl from the heat of the kiss. Why, oh, why, did this man stir her senses to insensibility?
Breathing harshly, Adam reluctantly ended the kiss, his bones aching to the very marrow as he leaned his forehead against hers. He had almost lost his head, the kiss affecting him to such a degree that he wished to lower her to the ground and make mad, passionate love to her here, in public. Yet his self-control had resurrected itself.
"No more. Please, no more," she beseeched him breathlessly.
Reluctantly he drew back, not trusting himself. Her lips were swollen, and she was staring at him in a bewitching manner. There was a candor in her eyes he had not seen before.
"You're much too dangerous to be my husband," she said. "Too unpredictable. I hate to admit it, but you run circles around me. It's quite disconcerting."
"I vow I'll be a wonderful husband," he said.
"No. You're too great a risk. Too much the rake, the adventurer. A lady could never risk her heart upon you."
"It's true that I'm drawn to adventure," he said. "But the only adventure I seek is in your bed. The risk for me is already taken, for I fear you have stolen my heart."
He sounded so sincere… but then, con men usually did. Yet, Eve heard at least a grain of truth in his words, which caused her to recognize a fundamental truth: the man in front of her—Adam Griffin—had been going through a change since he first opened his mouth—from nobody to somebody. How disturbing. Worse, she was coming to admire him. But how could she ever trust him? She had to remember that he was a clever conniver who could convince anyone of anything, even someone as grounded in rational thinking and the sciences as herself.
She sat back rather weakly in her chair, her sensibilities strained as she tried to articulate her feelings. "I don't trust you. You're too wild to be reliable. Too much the roving schemer."
"So, tame me. You're a special woman, capable of achieving the improbable—even the impossible. Cure my wanderlust and let me love you, be loved by you."
"Poppycock, pure wishful thinking."
"Is that a medical opinion?" Adam asked. He fought off surliness. He was revealing bits and pieces of himself, yet she refused to believe his sincere intentions. He had met hardheaded people before, ogres being notoriously so: even when hit over the head with a tree, they often failed to fall. But Eve was more stubborn than most.
"Adam, admit it—you don't really want me. You took this scheme for the gold." She stared at him, as if trying to guess his thoughts.
"It is true that wealth was the draw. The gold is the reason I became your husband—but my staying is your fault. I can't leave you."
"It's only your libido speaking. You desire me; that's all."
"Ah, libido. I love it when you talk doctor talk."
Eve couldn't help it; she found herself giggling like a schoolgirl. But before she could do something totally stupid, like kiss him, Lady Jane and Asher joined them and interrupted their conversation. She said, "I'm finding myself feeling quite silly, and I need to apologize. I've been a terrible hostess. It's just that Asher has been gone the past few nights, and I've missed him terribly."
"It's been a wonderful evening—truly," Eve replied.
"I'm sure you understand," Asher added. "You two have been apart much longer than a few nights. I must commend you, Adam, on your forbearance. I must admit I would miss my Jane too dreadfully to be without her for years."
"Sitting beside my lovely wife now, I can't imagine ever being without her again," Adam responded. Eve kicked his ankle with her dainty slippers, but that didn't stop his grin. Turning his eyes to the earl, Adam asked, "How did you meet?" He liked both the Wolvertons. They seemed such an unlikely pair.