Seduced (5 page)

She nodded. “I cannot disagree. I am sorry that you are disappointed in Mr. Blackwood’s dismissal of you, but you must know it is for the best.”

Griffin’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what you told him? That to dismiss me was
best
?”

“Griffin,” she said, wishing he would let her touch him, though she could see he wouldn’t. “I am
not
your enemy.”

“If you went behind my back, thwarted me like I am a child, it is hard not to feel that you are,” he said. “Do not interfere with my plans again, Letitia. I am a man and I demand to be respected.”

He turned away from her then, stomping from her parlor. She raced after him. “Griffin!”

But he ignored her calls and simply exited the house, swinging up on his horse before he thundered from her drive, leaving her standing in her doorway to stare after him.

Her eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them away. She was too angry to cry. Angry with herself for how she had handled the exchange, angry with Griffin for putting himself in a dangerous position and angry with Jack Blackwood. She had no idea what he had said to her brother, but he had caused enormous trouble between them.

She went back into the parlor, her mind and heart racing. She needed to speak to that man, to have it out with him over whatever it was he had led Griffin to believe. At the wedding ball, she had overheard someone say that Jack now joined his brother and Claire for supper each Sunday. She had to assume the Sunday that was just a few days away would be included in that ritual.

So all she had to do now was get herself invited along and find a way to confront Jack Blackwood. She would close the door between him and her brother once and for all.

Her hands shook as she made that decision, but she pushed the nervous reaction away. She was not going to be put off by such a frustrating man. Such a frustrating, handsome, seductive man. No, she was not.

She would just have to find the strength to not let him fluster her.

Jack swung down from his horse and looked up at Warrick’s townhouse. His brother had bought and paid for this place with money made from his horse-breeding venture. It was a fine home, far finer than any they’d grown up in. Which made Jack uncomfortable every time he stepped through the door. But he kept coming here because War and Claire would be leaving London soon to return to her family’s country estate. Jack wanted to suck up every moment he could while he was still allowed in War’s life.

Even if that life was so very different from Jack’s own. He smiled at the boy who took his horse, and was about to move to the front door when a carriage rolled through the gate and stopped just in front of him. The door flew open and he tensed, his hand straying to the pistol he kept in his waistband.

But to his shock, instead of a rival leaning from the vehicle to do him harm, Lady Seagate was the one who appeared in the doorway, her face drawn taut with emotion.

“Get in.”

His eyes went wide at the unexpected order. “I beg your pardon?”

“Get. In,” she repeated, her voice low and irritated.

Her gaze darted around like she was waiting to be caught. She looked very fetching in a pale green gown that once again accentuated those remarkably lovely breasts of hers. He got a good look at the smooth tops of them when she leaned toward him.

He doubted she knew what a temptation she created.

“Just get in!” she burst out at last, and there was that flash of fire goddess again. The one that drew him in.

He smiled, inclined his head and did as he had been told, sliding into the carriage and situating himself across from her as she slammed the vehicle door.

“I have never been abducted by a lady before,” he drawled, looking at her pale face in the dim carriage. “This is very exciting.”

“I’m not abducting you, you ass,” she hissed. “As you can see, the carriage is not moving.”

He arched a brow. That was true. “Then whatever could you want with me, Letitia?”

“Lady Seagate,” she corrected him, her cheeks flaming.

That blush stirred his cock and he shifted so it wouldn’t become too obvious. At least not yet.

“Very well,
Lady Seagate
, I’m at your mercy. What do you
want
me for?”

He knew the implication that dripped from his tone. She seemed to understand it too, for her cheeks grew even redder.

“I understand you had a visit a few days past from my brother, Griffin.”

His smile fell and he let out a long sigh. Of course that was the only reason for her waylaying him like this. “Indeed, I did, my lady.”

“What in God’s name are you thinking, Mr. Blackwood?” she snapped, her hands fluttering in front of her body like butterflies.

He drew back. “Excuse me?”

“You shall
not
be excused.” She shook her head as she spoke and little tendrils of dark hair shivered around her oval face. “My brother may look like a man, he may even
believe
he is a man, but he is but seventeen years old. That you would encourage his foolish inclination to throw himself into your dastardly life is outrageous. And for you to invoke
my
name when you sent him away, when you must have known how angry that would make him, is cruel to the bone. You are
no
gentleman!”

He watched her as she spat those angry words at him. God, but she was fiery. She might look meek or demure, but beneath that facade lurked a spirit of a warrior. A warrior with infinitely kissable lips.

“You will say nothing?” she snapped, folding her arms as she slumped back on the carriage seat.

He leaned closer, crowding her in the close quarters until he got a whiff of the same vanilla honey scent that had woven its way around him the night of the ball. It stoked his hunger, his curiosity about how she would taste.

But he ignored those strange drives and instead said, “Let me address your charges one by one. If your brother had the wherewithal to uncover where I reside, he is far more of a man than you wish to believe. And perhaps it is the insistence of his family that he remain a child which drives him to prove otherwise.”

Her lips parted, showing him a tantalizing glimpse of her pink tongue. But she said nothing, just made a tiny squeak.

He continued without waiting for further response. “Secondly, I did nothing to encourage him. The night of my brother’s wedding to your cousin, I told Mr. Merrick that I didn’t think his interest in my life was a good idea. And when you came storming up to interrupt us,
you
certainly reiterated that thought.”

“And look what you’ve done with that information. Turned it around so that my brother is now angry with
me
,” she said, and some of the fire was gone from her voice. She sounded pained now, defeated.

How well he knew that sound. His own voice often sounded that way when he discussed War.

“If your brother is angry, I think you hold some share of the blame.” He shrugged. “Your interruption of my discussion with him the night of the ball only served to embarrass him rather than drive him off. What recourse did he have except try to impress me so I would forget that night?”

“You want to blame me?” she whispered, her voice barely carrying, despite how close they were. “
That
is your game? To turn the blame to me just as you did when you spoke to him a few days ago? You show your true colors, sir.”

He pursed his lips. He had endured her slurs thus far because he understood her fear and also because he found her so unexpectedly attractive. But now he was beginning to become irritated by her continued implication that
he
was at fault for her troubles with her brother.

“Letitia, when Griffin showed up to offer his services to me, I turned him away. One of the reasons I gave for that rejection was that his family would not approve.
You
would not approve. That this has caused strife is not my fault and I shall not accept responsibility.”

Her eyes lit up with a flash of pain and shame so deep that it surprised him. What he had said had hit a soft spot with her. One that clearly had to do with more than just her brother.

“No, I would not expect you to take any responsibility. Men like you never do.”

“And you have such experience with
men like me
because you’ve talked to me twice and had a slight flirtation with Jonathon Aston?” he asked mildly.

Her eyes went wide and her hand swung back to slap him. He caught it effortlessly and dragged her forward on her seat so that their faces were close together, less than inches. Millimeters. He could feel her warm breath on his lips and it was maddening.
She
was maddening.

“If you’re going to put your hands on me, my lady, I can suggest ways that will be far more pleasant for both of us.”

He meant the statement to shock her, to anger her, and he could see he hit the mark in both ways. But her pupils also dilated and her tongue came out to wet her lips. His heart pounded.

She wanted him.

With a possessive growl, he leaned forward and closed the miniscule distance between them, pressing his lips to hers. For a brief moment, her mouth was flat and unyielding, hard beneath his. But then her lips softened, her breath caught and she melted against him like hot, sweet butter. His arms came around her, one hand cupping the mass of her coiled hair, the other tilting her chin as he brushed the tip of his tongue along the crease of her mouth.

She hesitated, but then her lips parted and he let his tongue slip past, into heavenly heat. She tasted like the same honey scent that clung to her body, and he drank her in as he swirled his tongue around hers, sucking and exploring her.

A moan came from deep within her and she hesitantly met the strokes of his tongue once, twice.

But just as things were becoming interesting, it was like someone sent an electric shock through her. She stiffened suddenly, yanking her head from his. She turned her face, her breath short, her hands fisting open and shut in her lap. She shot him one look, an expression of questioning, of confusion, of desire that was beginning to be buried back under propriety where she likely thought it belonged.

He waited for her to set him down, to try for another slap, to say anything. Instead, she fumbled for the carriage door handle, threw it open, and staggered out of the vehicle. She waved off the servants who moved to assist her, and without a backward glance she stalked up the drive toward War and Claire’s home.

He watched her go, watched her stumble up the stairs and into the foyer. He flopped back against the carriage seat, staring up at the low ceiling as he tried to catch his breath.

He hadn’t meant the kiss the woman, but she was a damned temptation. And now that he had tasted her, he had the very strange desire to do it again. To do it where there would be more privacy. Where there would be nothing but pleasure between them.

Except, judging from the way Letitia had bolted away from him, that was unlikely to happen. And what should he expect? He was far below the woman, no matter if she actually wanted him beneath that proper exterior.

“Just forget it,” he muttered as he got out of her carriage and made his own way to his brother’s door.

Except he didn’t think forgetting was going to be so easy.

Letty stared at her untouched food and said a silent prayer before she allowed her gaze to slide up to the clock on the mantel across from her. Damn. Only one minute had passed since she last looked at its face. Time seemed to be taunting her, refusing to pass at a reasonable rate.

It was probably a punishment for what she’d done in the carriage. Kissing Jack Blackwood. Liking it when he kissed her, if she was going to be more specific about it. When it came to sin, she supposed specificity was key.

Punishment was probably also why the man himself had been placed at her right at the supper table. War and Claire had at least ten people at their dinner party and yet here she was next to Jack. She could smell that masculine, spicy scent of his skin right now. His very warm skin, his warm mouth, his hot tongue when he…

No! That was enough of that.