A Bluestocking Christmas (10 page)

“Why do I think you’ve obviously read a great deal of the book,” he murmured as he glanced down at the leather bound volume in his hand.
 

“I am studying the book from an academic viewpoint.” Although her demeanor was still one of defiance, there was a distinct quaver in her voice.

“Are you, indeed,” he drawled with amusement. “And exactly what is your opinion of the book based on your reading to date?”

“I…I found it to be…enlightening,” she finished with a gasp.

Simon’s body brushed against hers as he leaned past her to drop the book into the chair behind her. The barely audible moan passing her lips stirred a dark lust in the pit of his stomach. God, he couldn’t wait to have her in his bed.
 

His hand cupped her chin as his thumb pressed down on her bottom lip forcing her mouth to part. Another tremor wracked her body and vibrated its way into his fingers. Gently, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lip and took pleasure in the way the plump flesh quivered beneath his touch. Like a violin responding to a bow, she swayed toward him.
 

Slowly, he pulled her close. Her eyes had a sleepy look as if she’d just woken up from a long night of passion. Christ Jesus, she was lovely, and her mouth was made for kissing. He bent his head and brushed his lips over hers. The faint scent of chocolate filled his nostrils from her sweet breath, and he immediately thrust his tongue into her mouth to taste her.
 

The flavor of hot chocolate dashed across his tongue. It held the promise of something sweet and delectable. His cock grew stiff and ridged in his trousers, and he longed to drag her hand off his chest down to his hard erection. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d found a woman who tasted so good. His fingers brushed along the silky skin of her neck and over the spot throbbing with the frantic pace of her heartbeat.
 

The racing pulse beneath his fingertips sent a surge of triumph through him. He’d been right. There were fires banked deep inside Ivy that when they emerged would consume her when she came to his bed. His fingers trailed downward across the material of her high-necked dress to just above her breasts.
 

Frustration lashed at him. He wanted to touch her. He wanted her to touch him. A small moan whispered in his mouth. It made him realize he was on the verge of losing control. If he didn’t release her, he might drag her to the floor and make love to her at that precise moment. Shaken by the need she created in him, Simon released her quickly.
 

His heart was racing, and every inch of him demanded he bed her right now. He drew in a deep breath. No. Ivy wasn’t like other women. He would have to woo her if she were to come to his bed. And she
would
come to his bed. The sultry expression on her face and her ragged breathing confirmed his belief of that fact.
 

“
That
was
most
enlightening,” he murmured. “What time shall I call for you on Saturday evening?”

“I…I am having a small supper party before the ball. You may join us if you wish. Supper is at seven.”

“Then I shall be here at seven.” Simon captured her hand and carried it to his lips. When she tried to tug it free of his grasp, he tightened his grip and turned it over to study her palm. “Have you ever had your fortune told, Ivy?”

“No, I don’t believe in that sort of nonsense.”
 

“Is it?” He gentle stroked the inside of her palm with his free hand as he bent his head as if studying her palm intently. When he raised his head, he smiled at her transfixed look. “In the not too distant future, Ivy, you’re going to discover a world of pleasure. I intend to be your guide into that world, Ivy. And I promise you, it will be even more enlightening than that book you’ve been reading.”
 

She uttered a sharp gasp as his mouth warmed her palm. Simon quickly released her hand and took a quick step back. Bowing slightly, he smiled at her then left the salon before she could gather her wits and order him out of the house or worse, renege on their agreement.

~~~~

 
“Ahh, so this is when you fell in love with him.” The elderly gentleman at her side gently tapped her arm. The light touch sent a flood of warmth through her as the cool white fog surrounded them once more.

“Yes.” Ivy nodded reluctantly. “That’s when I fell in love with him. He was impossibly arrogant, but the way he used words to plead his case held me spellbound. But none of this changes anything. He’s no different than Whitby.”

“Are you so certain of that? Deep inside you knew Whitby only wanted you for your money until he discovered the truth of your heritage. We both know Whitby didn’t really love you.”

“
That’s not true.
He would have married me if it hadn’t been for… if he hadn’t been told I was a commoner.”

“Sometimes it’s convenient to hide from the truth when it makes the pain easier to bear. But we both know the truth about Whitby.”
 

There was a harsh note in the elderly man’s voice, and she looked up at him with a frown. For some odd reason, it seemed as if some of his wrinkles had faded. Ivy scoffed at the idea. She was already mad and delusional. Why would she be surprised to see the man’s face changing? Besides, it was obvious he knew nothing of her life at Fairfield. He knew nothing about how miserable her childhood had been after the deaths of her parents.
 

She’d gone to live with her mother’s family, only to be met with scorn and condescension. Her aunt and uncle’s treatment of her had magnified the grief she’d borne for her parents. The daughter of an earl, her mother’s elopement with a tradesman had been a scandal, but it was Ivy who’d paid the price of her mother’s rebellion. She glared at the old man.

“I have no wish to pursue any further discussion on Whitby, and if you insist on showing me images from my recent past, then do so or take me back to where I belong.” Bitterness echoed in her voice, and the man studied her defiant stance carefully.
 

 
“I am beginning to understand why Simon found it so difficult to convince you of his love for you. You’ve never been able to let go of the past.”

“Enough. Show me what you must or leave me be.”
 

“Very well,” he said with a soft sigh. Pulling her arm through his, the elderly gentleman guided her back into the fog.

Chapter 6

Ivy stared at herself in the mirror. What had she done? She bit down on her lip as the thought of Lord Wycombe attending her supper party, and then his escorting her to the ball. What in heaven’s name had possessed her to accept his proposal of being her escort tonight in exchange for his donating the Voltaire papers to the library? Elbow on the dressing table, she rubbed her forehead.
 

Tonight would be a disaster. She should never have agreed to his proposal. Nervously, she returned her gaze to the mirror as she remembered the way Lord Wycombe had kissed her. Nothing had prepared her for the wild emotions that had raged inside her. One glance in the mirror reflected that the memory of his touch was plain to see on her face.
 

Her eyelids were weighted downward in a sultry look, her cheeks were flushed, and her mouth looked as though she were longing for his kiss. She released a breath of disgust. Lord Wycombe’s calling cards had been entertaining, but she wanted nothing to do with the man. Nothing at all. A voice in the back of her head called her a liar. She swallowed hard, suddenly all too aware of the way her skin was feeling feverish.

She sprang to her feet to pace the floor. The soft rustle of her dress against the Persian carpet beneath her feet echoed loudly in the quiet room. What was she going to do this evening? Ivy scoffed at the question. She was going to do exactly as she agreed. Lord Wycombe would escort her to the ball and then she’d return home.
 

What was the possible harm in that if it gained the library the Voltaire Papers? She stopped her pacing to face her dressing table mirror. The woman staring back at her wore a gown the color of an evening sky when the last bit of daylight had faded from view. Covering the material was a thin sheen of netting laced with miniature stones that glittered in the room’s soft light. The dress’s shoulders were nonexistent, and the neckline plunged downward in a scandalous fashion.
 

Only a fool would believe something wouldn’t happen tonight. Instinct had guided her hand when she’d selected her gown, and she knew she’d chosen it to entice him. Ivy’s mouth went dry at the thought. Why would she have done such a thing? The answer followed close on the heels of the question. She wanted him. The realization tugged a soft gasp from her.
 

God help her. How could she possibly want a man who represented everything she despised? Ivy closed her eyes and wished the evening were over, but safety was still several hours away. Tonight she would tolerate the man’s presence then cast him out of her thoughts in the morning. A scornful laugh escaped her lips.
 

The man had already declared his intention to initiate her in the pleasures she’d read about in
The Golden Lotus.
Did she really believe she would escape his pursuit so easily? When she’d agreed to let him escort her to the ball this evening, it had seemed a harmless proposition. Spending a few hours in the man’s presence in exchange for the Voltaire Papers had seemed a small price to pay for such a treasure. But she’d made that decision before he’d kissed her.
 

The memory of his kiss sent a shock wave through her. Her hand flew up to her face in an effort to cool the fire in her cheeks. She would have to find a way to keep the man at bay. The scornful laugh she released as she stared at her reflection made her wince. How could she keep the man at arms distance when she found it so pleasurable to be in his arms? At the alarming thought, Ivy whirled away from the mirror and moved toward the door. Tonight was the first and last time she would spend time in Lord Wycombe’s company. When the evening was done, they would part ways. As she left her room, a voice in the darkest reaches of her mind whispered the word liar. She ignored it and hurried downstairs to greet her guests.
 

~~~~

Stepping out of his carriage, Simon ordered his driver to return later then turned to stride up the steps to Ivy’s house. He was certain handing over the Voltaire Papers in exchange for Ivy’s company this evening would be well worth the expense. When he’d made his proposal to her the other day, it had been a spur of the moment action, but his decision to do so had been the right one.
 

He’d guessed correctly that Ivy wouldn’t be able to resist acquiring the Voltaire Papers for the library, even if it meant spending an entire evening in his company. What she didn’t realize was that he had no intention of letting this one occasion be their only time together. Tonight he intended to intrigue and tantalize the woman until she fell eagerly into his arms.
 

With a tug of the doorbell, he waited for the front door to open. The moment it did so, he stepped inside and removed his coat. As he handed his outerwear to the butler, he noticed the man eyeing him with a severe expression. He arched an eyebrow, causing the retainer’s frown to deepen.
 

Amused by the man’s silent disapproval he bit back a grin. It seemed Ivy had another champion besides Anthony seeking to protect and revere her. Quiet voices echoed out of the salon, and Simon moved toward the room. From the doorway, his gaze scanned the guests gathered in small clusters throughout the spacious room. Their conversations were a quiet murmur as he recognized several men from his literary society. But it was Ivy who captured his attention. The sight of her sucked the wind out of his chest as he watched her from afar. She looked radiant.

As he watched her from across the room, a laugh parted her full lips, and she fluttered a peacock-feathered fan in front of her in a leisurely movement. There was an elegance and grace to her manner that few noblewomen could match. If Anthony had brought her home without revealing her background, no one in the family would have known she was a commoner. The notion made his jaw clench. The woman was destroying every one of his beliefs about commoners.

He watched her tip her head to one side as she gave the man standing at her side her complete attention. The sight irritated Simon. He wanted her to focus solely on him and no one else. No. What he really wanted was to take her away from all of these people. He wanted to spend time alone with her. First, he’d bed her and then he’d immerse himself in learning everything he could about her. He scowled in Ivy’s direction.

Damnation, he’d not been this enthralled with a woman since Elizabeth. Images of his father fucking the woman he’d wanted to marry blinded Simon for a brief moment before he buried the memories. He moved out of the salon’s doorway to lean against the wall and continued to watch Ivy. A quiet sensuality filled her every movement in a way that said she was without artifice.
 

Simon’s gaze slid over her in the same fashion he wanted to do using his hands. He wanted to explore every silky inch of her with his hands and his mouth. For the first time in a long while, he found himself excited at the thought of seducing a woman. His seduction of Ivy was something he’d never tried before. In the past, he’d simply whispered a few sweet nothings into the ear of the woman he wanted and they eagerly acquiesced to his advances. Ivy was different and required a unique strategy.