She shrugged. “Why pretend? I nearly broke my foot at the Wentworths’ fete last spring fleeing from you and Lord Ashbourne when you entered the ballroom.”
His crack of laughter echoed off the wood walls. “I thought I saw a flash of gray streak past.”
Her eyes widened. “You did not!”
His white teeth flashed in the darkness. “No, I’m only jesting. But I do admit, I’ve done my best to avoid you.”
Lily propped her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her chin in her palm. “You were always with a bevy of beautiful women.”
He pulled the cheroot from his lips. “Why, Countess, is that wistfulness I hear in your voice?”
“Absolutely not!” She hid her smile behind her fingertips.
Devon turned his head to face her. “You were always wearing mourning clothes and looked so unapproachable.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Lifting her chin, she fluttered her hand in the air between them to dispel the smoke.
He sat up and crushed out his cheroot in a nearby tray. “Not to mention you’ve always got that sop Medford at your heels.”
Lily raised a brow. “What exactly is your quarrel with the viscount?”
“He
irritates
me.”
“He’s a very good friend.”
Devon turned to her, an intent look in his eye. “They say his fortune is the reason for your friendship. Is there any truth to that?”
Lily pressed her lips together. “Now who is being rude? They
say
a great many things. Medford and I have been friends for years. Besides, if money were the main factor in determining with whom I spend my time, how would
they
explain my being here with you?”
Devon inclined his head. “Well played.”
“Gossip concerns me very little, Colton. As long as my sister isn’t maligned, I couldn’t care less what is said about me.”
“Obviously, or no doubt you never would have written your infamous pamphlet. It’s all anyone can talk about, or so I’m told. Is that why you left the company of the other ladies tonight?”
Lily rolled her eyes. “No. Tonight I was running away from something else entirely.”
“What?” He moved forward on the settee, closer to her.
Lily cracked half a smile. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
She folded her arms across her chest and eyed him with a raised brow. “I was running away from you.”
“The devil you say.” His white smile flashed in the darkness again.
“Well, talk of you, at least. You and your heroics were the topic of conversation and I could not take it any longer.”
He laughed. “My apologies. And here you’ve run smack into my arms.”
She swallowed, and the silence spoke volumes.
Devon stood and moved over to the sideboard and poured a drink. When he returned to the settee he held out a glass to her. “My lady?”
She shook her head. “Did you forget that I do not drink?”
He dangled the glass in front of her. “I’d hoped you’d changed your mind.”
Lily shrugged. “I have not.”
Devon cracked a smile. “Are you sure? It’s guaranteed to make the discussion of me more tolerable. Let alone being in my actual company. Take it.”
Lily politely took the drink, but carefully set it on the side table next to her. “As to that, I apologize for assuming you were gambling. And for being so rude.”
“Apology accepted.” He sat back down on the end of the settee facing her, so close his knees nearly brushed hers.
She cleared her throat but didn’t move away. “But you really shouldn’t gamble so much.”
“Really? How much is that?”
She couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. “At all, frankly. It’s a detestable habit.”
“Agreed. I lost a thousand pounds last night.”
Lily’s chest constricted. A thousand pounds? Lost? Here she’d been praising him for his selfless act to a stranger, but she hadn’t missed the mark after all. He had been gambling, as recently as last night, and losing exorbitant sums of money. Oh, what she couldn’t do with one thousand pounds! Thank God, Colton had just reminded her what a blackguard he was. She’d do well to remember it the next time she forgot the kind of man he really was.
“You think it humorous? To lose that amount of money on a game of chance?”
“No, I think it’s a damn shame.” He grinned. “But I hope to do better next time.”
Lily clenched her fist and counted ten. There was no sense in arguing with a gambler. She’d pleaded with her father often enough to have learned that lesson well. “It will be such a shame when they throw you in debtor’s prison.”
Colton snorted. “No doubt you’ll be beside yourself with worry.”
“You could always just stop, you know.”
“I shall certainly take your words under advisement, Countess.”
“No you won’t. You’ll do exactly as you wish. But will you please stop calling me ‘Countess’?”
“That is your title, is it not? And a hard-won one, I imagine.”
Lily rubbed her temples. A headache had begun to form behind her eyes. “You’ve no idea how hard-won it really was, but I cannot stand to hear you say it.”
Devon took another sip of his drink. “Very well, Lily, I daresay we were on a first-name basis once. Call me ‘Devon.’”
She smiled in the darkness. She’d expected mockery. Perhaps she’d expected him to double his use of the title, but he’d surprised her. Devon. Yes. She had called him “Devon” once and it seemed wonderfully familiar to her. Very well. She would call him that again.
“Devon, what exactly happened to you tonight? To give you that bruise?”
He braced his arms on the settee behind him and pushed a long leg out in front of himself. His leg moved through the two of hers and she squirmed. Oh, the man was improper. But she refused to let him see it bothered her.
“The details are unimportant,” he replied. “I simply saw an injustice being done and decided to right the matter.”
“With no concern for your own safety?”
“On the contrary, I always have a great concern for my own safety.”
“That bruise on your jaw begs to differ.”
Devon put two fingers to his chin. “Oy. Seems it hasn’t quite stopped bleeding.”
Lily’s gaze snapped to his face. “Oh, no.” She fumbled in her reticule for her handkerchief and moved quickly over to the settee, pressing the white cotton square against his chin, studying him closely. “Does your head hurt? Do you feel dizzy? Nauseated?”
Devon chuckled softly. “Who knew you were such a devoted nurse? And the look of concern on your face might lead me to believe you actually—dare I say—care?”
Lily let her hand fall away from his face. “Don’t flatter yourself. I simply cannot stand to see anyone or anything hurt.” She dropped her head to hide her blush. “I suppose that’s why I’m known to take in a stray dog. Annie’s the same way.”
Devon slid his warm fingers under hers and lifted her hand, pressing the cotton to his chin once again. “By all means, continue your ministrations. It’s been an age since anyone cared whether I was bleeding.”
Lily kept her eyes focused on his chin, refusing to look him in the eye. She dabbed at the blood and peered at the bruise in the shadowy darkness, trying to ignore how good he smelled.
“It appears to have stopped bleeding,” she reported after a few moments of careful study. “Of course, I cannot tell exactly due to the lack of light in this room. Let me light a lamp.” She attempted to stand, but Devon’s warm hand slid up her arm, pulling her back to the settee.
He studied her lips. “Don’t do that.”
“Why”—she swallowed, trying to moisten her suddenly dry mouth—“not?”
“I’m fine,” he whispered.
“Are you quite…” Her voice caught and she closed her eyes, a tremor running through her body. “Sure?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
Lily sucked in her breath. She turned to move back to the chair, but it was too late. Devon’s hand came up to stroke her cheek. His fingertips’ rough slide along her soft skin was her undoing. That and the intoxicating smell of his light cologne and whatever else made him such a
man.
Her lips fell open of their own accord and Devon wasted no time. He tipped her head back and lowered his mouth, teasing her with his slowness. When his tongue met hers, a surge of lust shot straight through her body.
His hands moved up to cup her cheeks. His rough thumbs brushed across her cheekbones. Her lips tentatively touched his and the hot, wet warmth of his mouth made her shudder. One of his arms reached around her back, and in one swift maneuver, he pulled her atop him and lay back against the arm of the settee. She covered him, her light blue skirts fanned out across his legs, her chest heaving against his shirtfront, her mouth pinned to his.
She knew it was wrong and indecent and a hundred other things, but she didn’t care. True, Lady Hathaway and God-knew-who-else might venture in at any moment and catch them in such an embrace. Nothing good could come of it, but at the moment all that mattered was his insistent mouth, his rock-hard body, and the promise of more. Oh, God, what he did to her when he kissed her neck.
* * *
Now that Lily was firmly situated atop him, Devon let his hands roam. Her shoulders, her back, her hips. He pulled her tight against him and reveled in the little moan that escaped her petal-pink lips. His mouth traced her temple, her forehead, her cheek, her neck. Finally his lips came back to tangle with hers. Their tongues intertwined, and Devon whispered against her ear, “Lily, I want you.”
Lily’s answer was to grab his shirtfront and pull him closer, her mouth never leaving his. Devon wasn’t sure who exactly had taught her to kiss like that, but it couldn’t have been her aging fop of a husband. Medford? He’d have to kill Medford.
The woman needed to write a pamphlet about how to leave a man half mad with one kiss. Her mouth was on his cheek, his temple, his ear.
Good God, she had his earlobe in her mouth and she was slowly driving him insane. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so mad with wanting a woman. So half out of his mind and wanting to rip every shred of clothing from her body and take her to bed to prove to her what a pleasure it could be.
Lily moaned against his mouth and Devon knew he had to stop it, before he took her. Here. Right here on the settee in the middle of the Hathaways’ dinner party. Not that he didn’t want to, damn it, and not that she might not actually enjoy herself. But he couldn’t do it. She didn’t deserve it. He must remember his plan. To make her want him, make her ache with wanting him. Want to die with wanting him. He had her right where he wanted her. And he could make her want him even more. No, now was neither the time nor the place to exact his revenge.
With supreme effort, Devon dragged his mouth away and rested his forehead against hers. Their breath commingled. “Come to my house for dinner tomorrow night, Lily,” he breathed.
Lily’s eyes remained closed. Obviously, she was still wrapped in a web of lust. Her eyes slowly blinked open. “Wha … what?”
“Dinner. My house. Tomorrow night.”
She pushed herself away from him a little, shaking her head as if to clear it from the fog of desire. “I cannot.”
His finger traced her cheekbone. “Why not?”
Lily pushed against his chest with all her might this time and scrambled away from him. Once she was an arm’s length away, she slowed her breathing and eyed him cautiously. “It’s out of the question. Completely inappropriate.”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Inappropriate how? No one need know. My servants are discreet, I assure you. Besides, it’s not as if you’re still an innocent.”
She cleared her throat, stood up, and moved toward the door. “No, no, no. I give you credit for a very valiant attempt at seducing me tonight, my lord. But you’ve failed, nonetheless.” She straightened her shoulders and ran her hands down her gown, smoothing her clothing back into place. “I must be getting back to Lady Hathaway and the other ladies now. I’m sure they are looking for me. Good evening, Lord Colton.” Without giving him a chance to say a word, she made her way toward the door.
“Lily, wait. There’s something I must tell you—”
She didn’t stop. “No,” she murmured. She slipped through the door and pulled it shut behind her with a resounding thud.
Devon expelled his breath. Lily was frightened. Frightened by him. And rattled, no doubt, by that kiss. And she didn’t like it one bit. He leaned back against the settee again, his hands beneath his head, and willed his overheated body to cool down.
Yes. She was rattled.
Good.
Lily desperately needed to be rattled. And he wasn’t through rattling her.
Not yet.
CHAPTER 11
Lily hopped into the rented coach and hastily pulled the creaky door shut behind her. She pressed her palm to her chest as if the sheer force of it could set her breathing to rights again.
That kiss.
It had been unforgettable. It replayed again and again in her head.
And to make matters worse, she couldn’t stop thinking about Devon’s dinner invitation. She was tempted. Oh, yes, she was tempted to accept. But it was all an act. He might seem friendly and approachable, but he was just trying to seduce her. Every moment she’d spent with him tonight had been calculated.
He’d admitted it himself. He’d just lost
one thousand pounds.
A fortune. The man was completely irresponsible. He was a destitute gambler. No wonder he was so desperate to marry for money. He wanted his wealthy fiancée back. That was all. If he was interested in Lily, it was because she was rumored to be wealthy. Or because he truly believed his seduction scheme would force her to write a retraction. Both thoughts were equally maddening.
She shook her head. It was lunacy, all of it. Nothing good could come from spending more time with him. Consorting with that man was like playing with fire. She needed to find a way to secure a future for herself and Annie without succumbing to the charms of a penniless scoundrel like Devon Morgan.
When the coach pulled to a stop in front of her town house, Lily scrambled into the street and turned to hurry up the stairs. She’d barely gone two steps when she stopped short.