Flawless (28 page)

“Hm?”

“I am so very impressed. You . . . took a chance.” She shook her head. “That’s not my strong suit. I’ve been so busy looking at the books, trying to make the figures add up. Never once did I imagine a solution outside of pinching pennies. You thought on a grander scale.”

His levity had eased, replaced by the unfamiliar contemplative expression he’d worn for weeks. “I simply couldn’t let go of that pile. How could they be worthless? They’re still just as hard, just as durable. We can put them to use and save this company.”

“Save ourselves.”

“My primary objective, yes.”

Viv sat on the edge of the desk, her knees trembling. “Miles, I’m relieved. I’m
giddy
. This is just marvelous. I . . . I’m so proud of you.”

She stopped and swallowed before she lost track of language all together. It started with the simplest touch—just Viv smoothing a disheveled thatch of hair that guarded his ear like a thorn bush. His hair was so soft, even the stray flecks of wiry gray.

But then the simmering heat sparked.

“Now kiss me,” she whispered.

“If I kiss you right here, Vivie, I’m not going to stop.”

“Oh?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He banded her hips with splayed fingers. With that wide span he was able to hook his thumb around her pelvic bones and dig his fingers into her tender backside. His expression determined yet mischievous, he squared her body with his. She sat on the desk. He stood between her knees. And he pushed her back, back, until she stretched along the top of his clutter. “I think you know that if I kiss you, I won’t stop until we’re both satisfied.”

A wicked thrill coursed from her heels to her scalp, then back down to settle as a wild pulse between her legs. “Is that true?”

“Yes, my lady,” he said, grinning. “Very true.”

“But your papers? Your ledgers?”

“All very much suited to being flung to the floor.” To demonstrate the point, he tossed a stack of mail aside. Viv covered her mouth, giggling, as she watched the fall. “Now you try.”

She swept her arms wide. Sheets of paper fluttered to the ground like October leaves in Central Park. So far away. But she didn’t want to be anywhere but right there.

“See? Easy.” The twist of his lip, which could be so cruel when he wanted to appear a callous, flippant rogue, softened to something closer to wonder. He traced the slope of her brow, the curve of her cheek, the round point of her chin. “You are a beautiful woman, Vivienne.”

He straightened, and for a moment Viv feared he might actually walk away. Instead he locked the door to the study, then shut the room’s only window. He resumed his spot between her legs and leaned over her. Their noses almost touched. She could lick the stubble on his chin—if only she were bold enough.

She was.

The rough texture sent a delicate shiver from her tongue to every other nerve in her body. “I thought you were going to kiss me.”

“You asked.”

“Miles, please. Kiss me.” She began to unfasten his neckwear and the buttons that covered tempting male skin and hair and muscle. “But you were right. You shouldn’t stop. Not until we’re both satisfied.”

V
iv took Miles’s hand and
descended from the barouche. Lady Galeworth’s marble mansion was one of the few buildings in the world entirely lit by electric light. The strident yellow glow from fifteen external lamps imitated the sun, again dazzling Viv with the wonder of that fascinating new technology. It was invaluable in the brokerage’s sorting rooms, but almost overwhelming when applied on such large scale. She was reminded of her father’s enthusiasm for the industry that would emerge from electricity. Some considered it a fad or fashion, but Christie Holdings would’ve capitalized on the possibilities had its namesake lived.

And whenever her thoughts expanded outward toward the larger reputation of her family name, she thought of her siblings. Dear Gwen had been so terribly scared, even angry at what she saw as their father’s betrayal of her future as an opera singer. Gareth had been his practical, cynical self, but even his anxiety had been easy to read. And Alex—to be ushered toward such a new and unpredictable life with a
young son in tow. How were they all coping? Having posted a dozen letters of her own, she waited daily for replies that had yet to arrive.

“They think that by one day lighting the entire town with electricity,” Miles said, squinting slightly, “Kimberley will be the envy of the world.”

“Until ambition outweighs taste, that won’t ever be the case.”

“And which do you prefer?”

“Whichever will get us that reward and the right to choose our future.”

“Our?”

Viv licked her lips intentionally. A week had passed since making love in his study, and each night since had been filled with passion that bordered on mania. Knowledge it would happen all over again simmered under her skin with heated promise.

Another more lasting future, however, remained difficult to imagine. “Perhaps,” she said softly.

Immaculately groomed, he seemed to have made a genuine effort to look his most commanding. For appearances? For her? She hardly dared guess his motives, only admired the result. Hair combed back from his face caught the electric light, shining bronze and blond against lustrous chocolate. The sensual curve of his lips offset the hard lines of his jaw and cheekbones. Not even on their wedding day had he looked more handsome. In the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head, the quirk of his half smile, he was a confident man. Such a
powerful
man.

Her
man?

Carriages released their passengers and were shunted out of sight. Viv hadn’t seen the likes of these footmen since leaving London, right down to the powdered wigs and gold braid trim on their livery. She discreetly examined the décor. No expense was spared, from the immaculate statuary to the ornate crystal chandelier just inside the foyer.

Miles offered his arm. “Shall we?”

Nerves fluttered in her stomach. A ball was so much more special than a dinner party. Here, they would dance and dance. She nearly giggled as they made their way through the crowded mansion. Less than two years before, she’d abandoned their life in London
because
of Miles’ss behavior at just such a gala. Now she awaited every touch that promised more. Even taking her wrap and handing it to an attendant, his mischievous eyes said he hadn’t lost interest. If they’d made love every time she caught that familiar flare of heated longing in his gaze, she would never leave the house.

They stood at the top of a wide double staircase that led to the ballroom. The Galeworth mansion was built on the side of a slope, resulting in a lower story that was also at ground level. The walls were made almost entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, which meant that every resident in Kimberley could see the brightly lit party. Every glittering jewel. Every imported Parisian silk gown. If they listened closely enough, they might even be able to hear the quartet as it began a lively waltz. Viv couldn’t help but think that the architect had done it purposefully.

“If you leave my side tonight, I’ll come find you,” he whispered against the side of her neck.

A shiver danced up to her scalp and down between her shoulder blades. “Oh?”

“Because you look breathtaking, Viv. Every man here wants you. Don’t ever doubt that.” He tightened his hand at her waist. Half caress, half possessive tug. “But I want you more.”

“Do behave.”

“Hardly what your expression says. Would you like me to interpret what I see?”

A blush warmed her skin down to the cleft between her breasts. “Yes.”

“A woman who wants to be kissed.”

“Is that all?”

He brushed his mouth across hers, just the barest touch. “Hmm. Doesn’t seem to be. At least not that sort of kiss. We both desire more, don’t we?”

“What do you mean? We’ve already been doing . . . more.” The tips of his fingers danced along her upper back, where her gown revealed bare skin. A gentle tease. A wicked tickle.

“May I make a request, Vivie?”

“And what is that?”

“I want to spend the night with you. All night. A real seduction, Vivie. You and me. Exploring. Completely open. No more of these furtive bursts of passion, where neither of us can look the other in the eye come morning.” He traced the bones of her spine until he cupped the base of her skull.
His breath was warm against her cheek. “I want to see you bathed in gold when the sun rises.”

Another hard shiver. The scene he painted with hushed words was too evocative to deny. She could not refuse, but neither could she boldly leap to answer his request for more intimacy.

“You’re terribly sure of yourself this evening,” she said, hoping for a lighthearted tone. But all she felt was awe. He could turn on his charisma like one of those electric light switches. Tonight he blazed.

With a scant smile, one that hid all the secrets of their evening yet to come, he offered his arm once again. “We need me to be.”

“Yes, but now let me interpret your expression. If you keep looking at me that way, you’ll never have the chance to meet Mr. Rhodes or the colonial governor.”

He lifted his brows, lips quirking around a suppressed smile. “I can resist you long enough to do my job tonight, Lady Bancroft.”

“Can you, now? Even with thoughts of me bathed in golden sunlight?”

“If you want to tease, we can tease.” He brushed up her ribs until his thumb caressed the underside of her breast. “But I ask that you don’t make a mockery of something I requested in earnest.”

“Miles . . .” She arched her neck to catch his gaze with hers. Troubling, the idea that she could push him too far. That she could hurt him. She would need to think about
how he had been affected by her departure for New York. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

He shrugged. A genial expression layered over any deeper sentiment, disguising him as thoroughly as grease paint on an actor. She knew that process well, but rarely had she seen it of him. By letting him inside her defenses, she was learning the difference between the viscount and the man she’d married.

What a terrifying, thrilling gift.

“Come now, my lady. We have work to do.”

Even as she basked in the sensual jolt created by their conversation, she wondered if he would want her just as much had he known the truth of her origins. She doubted he or any other man in the room would—at least not as a wife.

With an agitated sigh, she accompanied Miles to greet the usual crowd: Mr. and Mrs. Goode, Mr. Montgomery and Priscilla Lumley, his mistress, and Lady Galeworth and her son. Strange how Viv had such difficulty remembering the man’s name, especially since it was his name on the contract between the Galeworth Mine and Christie Brokerage. Lady Galeworth was simply too domineering to permit anyone an opinion. Even Mr. Haverstock, the banker who had abandoned Chloe in that long-ago burning carriage, skirted the edges of their exclusive cluster. Viv made a point of ignoring the toad.

“Lord and Lady Bancroft,” Mr. Goode said, extending his hand. Miles quirked a haughty eyebrow, but shook anyway. “Delighted to make your acquaintances at last. Business in London has kept me away.”

Montgomery harrumphed. His grand mustache twitched. “Nothing in London but relics covered in cobwebs.”

Miles’s fingertips tensed at Viv’s waist, but his expression maintained that bland neutrality. “Some of us manage to shake the cobwebs off,” he said evenly. “They would appear none too attractive under these electric lights.”

“Why the shuffling of feet, my friends?” Neil Elden asked as he joined the conversation. “Lord Bancroft is a valuable asset to our community, as is anyone who brings the prestige of the old guard to our fair venture. Any businessman who doesn’t see the benefit of such connections isn’t looking hard enough.”

“And the prestige of this event is incomparable,” said Montgomery’s mistress. Miss Lumley was a pretty, birdlike young woman with a turned-up nose and marvelous blue eyes. Rumor had it that she’d crawled up from the Boston docks to achieve her current place of dubious standing, but judging by the fat, flawless brilliants weighing heavily on her earlobes and the way Montgomery never left her side, she’d made the very best use of her assets. “I’m quite in awe of the company we keep here.”

Viv smiled but couldn’t help noticing her mistake. Ignoring the splendor was the surest way to let everyone else assume one belonged among it. She felt a charitable impulse to save the woman from further embarrassment, but she was too busy navigating the currents of dislike radiating between Miles and Neil.

The latter made the task more difficult when he offered
Viv one of the two glasses of champagne he held. “No, thank you, Mr. Elden.”

“Then I suppose a dance is out of the question, too,” he said quietly.

Right there. Within earshot of Miles.

“You suppose correctly.” As a distraction against the violence she felt in her husband’s taut body, she made a show of admiring Neil’s suit coat. “Is this new from London?”

“Paris, actually. Just arrived this week. I’m quite fond of it already.”

She flicked her gaze to Miles, practically able to see a snappish retort straining to be let free of his beautiful mouth. But Neil had already moved on, complimenting Miss Lumley’s earbobs—his conversation as animated as a hummingbird’s wings.

Ever since Miles’s warnings, she could not relax around Neil. Had she been so deceived, believing him a self-made man in the image of her late father? But Sir William Christie had never played games that involved neither profit nor acquisition. His tolerance for complimentary chatter expired after only a handful of minutes, relying instead on blunt words and unmistakable commands. Viv would’ve preferred even his displeasure to Neil’s frivolity.

The entire evening had taken on an element of tedium, just like afternoon tea with the town’s finest society women. When had the tinkling of polite laughter and the clink of fine crystal begun to sound so foreign and contrived? She’d longed for this sort of refinement for as long as she could recall, even before she knew such magic existed. But it was
just that: magic. It wasn’t real. Behind the smiles and the exquisite silks lay ambition and fear as desperate as her own. And just as she’d attended the ball as a means of furthering her business interests, so had everyone else.