A Visit From Sir Nicholas (21 page)

"How many then ?"

"I have no idea." Indignation rang in his voice and struck him as somewhat absurd. Of course, what about this entire conversation was not absurd?

She scoffed. "Surely you have some idea? An educated guess, perhaps?"

"I don't know," he said staunchly.

"Thousands?"

"I don't know! Although," he muttered more to himself than to her, "thousands does seem like rather a lot."

"We'll settle on hundreds then." She nodded firmly.

He frowned. "I don't see what concern it is of yours anyway."

"If I am about to fling myself into your bed, I should like to know beforehand that it shall be worth the flinging." She winced. "So to speak."

He drew himself up indignantly. "I have never had any complaints before about the flinging." He paused.

"So to speak."

"Excellent." She beamed at him. "I have never had any complaints either, although I have certainly not had the vast experience you have and— did I mention my enthusiasm?"

"Good God, yes."

"You also should know I am more than willing to learn. I distinctly remember you once mentioned having learned a lot on your travels about men and women and the very good times they could have together." She braced her hands on the table and leaned forward. "I should very much like to have a very good time."

He backed up and shook his head. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why?" She shrugged. "The more appropriate question should be why not."

"Very well then." He eyed her suspiciously. "Why not?" She straightened and ticked the points off on her fingers. "We are both adults, well past the age of consent. Neither of us is currently married or otherwise encumbered." She paused. "You aren't married, are you?"

"No," he snapped.

Her eyes narrowed. "Have you a mistress?"

"Not at the moment."

"Good." She nodded with a hint of what might have been relief. "In addition, while one of us is obviously better versed in the subject matter, neither of us are virgins, which means there should be no moments of intense awkwardness."

She cast him a brilliant smile and started around the table toward him.

"Elizabeth!" He started backwards, caught his foot in the leg of a chair, and fell into it.

"I must admit to a great deal of surprise, Nicholas." Elizabeth moved to stand in front of him and smiled down at him. "I never thought you of all people would be so stuffy about matters like this."

"I'm not stuffy. I'm simply confused. And shocked."

"It's quite simple really." She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as if praying for patience, although surely heavenly guidance played no role in this. "I have spent ten years with you lingering in the back of my mind. Oh certainly, I didn't realize it or perhaps I didn't accept it until I saw you again. You want me and I want you. There's nothing more to it than that."

He struggled to sit upright. "There's a great deal more to it than that." She shrugged. "Not at all."

"I thought you had no desire for marriage." He would have gotten to his feet, but she would have had to move for that—or he would have had to move her. Being that close to Elizabeth or, God forbid, touching her in any way at this particular moment was not an action that would encourage rational thinking. And he definitely needed all his wits about him.

She smiled in a most wicked manner. "I am not suggesting marriage." Relief battled with disappointment. The relief was expected, the disappointment came as yet another surprise in an afternoon full of surprises. His thoughts hadn't turned toward marriage, but why shouldn't they?

He chose his words carefully. "What are you suggesting?"

"What I am suggesting, or rather what I am proposing, is a temporary…
arrangement
I suppose is the best word. Consider it something of a counteroffer to your own compromise. Very businesslike, really." He stared up at her. "And this counteroffer consists of what?"

She hesitated for no more than a fraction of a second. "For the next few weeks, the length of time you originally proposed for the management of my finances, perhaps scheduled promptly at half past two before you look at my accounts or possibly after, it scarcely matters, I suppose, until Christmas at any rate, I shall share your bed willingly and with enthusiasm—"

"Yes, I believe you've mentioned enthusiasm," he muttered.

"At the end of that time you will return, in a legal fashion I should think, all control of my finances to me. We will have furthermore laid to rest this undeniable attraction between us, lust if you will. We will each be satisfied and can therefore go our separate ways."

"Our separate ways?"

"Absolutely. There shall be no encumbrances, no binding ties, no permanence whatsoever. Furthermore, I do not expect love or anything of that nature, nor should you, although a certain amount of friendly affection between the two of us would certainly be welcome."

"Friendly affection?"

She nodded in a pleasant manner, as if what she was suggesting had no more significance than an afternoon carriage ride.

"But not love?"

She shook her head. "The goal is to deal with lust. Love has nothing whatsoever to do with it."

"Just out of idle curiosity and because I prefer to have all the facts before I agree to any kind of contractual agreement—"

"As well you should."

"Why eliminate the possibility of love?"

Her green eyes were cool and unreadable. "I have my reasons, just as you had your reasons for casting me aside ten years ago."

"I see," he said slowly. "And at the end of this period, we go our separate ways?"

"Indeed. I should prefer never to see you again."

He shook his head. "I'm afraid I still don't quite understand."

"For a man who is reputed to be so brilliant in business, you're really rather dim when it comes to a simple businesslike agreement." She huffed. "Very well, think of it this way. I am a ship and you are a sweet."

"What?"

"Chocolates, toffee, candied nuts, plum puddings, fruit tarts—something of that nature. Quite wonderful really, but when one has had enough, the desire has vanished. And one might never wish for plum pudding again."

"Are you insane?" He glared up at her.

She smiled. "Probably."

He narrowed his gaze. "Why would you agree to such a thing?"

"Why?" Her voice lowered and she braced one hand on each arm of the chair, effectively trapping him. A lovely trap, but a trap nonetheless.

He swallowed hard. "Why."

She leaned closer. "Because I remember how you took me in your arms and the way your lips met mine and the way your body was warm against my own."

Her lips were a scant breath from his own.

"I remember the longing that welled up deep inside me when you walked into a room and the palatable tension in the air when we were together, so thick I could scarcely breathe. And the way your kiss curled my toes."

Her lips whispered against his and he jumped, jerking backwards with a force born of shock and desire. His head smacked the back of the chair and the front legs rose. Elizabeth straightened in surprise, and for a fraction of a second he balanced precariously, then he and the chair tumbled backwards. The upholstery absorbed most of the fall, saving him from serious injury, but his pride was most definitely wounded.

Elizabeth tried and failed to smother a laugh.

Nick lay face up on the floor in a most annoying and distinctly humiliating fashion. "I am glad you found that amusing."

She grinned. "Most amusing."

"Enjoy it, Elizabeth." He scrambled up from the floor and brushed off the sleeves of his jacket, his voice polite and cool. "As it is the only amusing thing that has been said in this room today."

"Not at all. Why, your very attitude is most amusing. I should have thought you would have jumped at my offer." She choked back a laugh. "Or rather fallen for it."

"I have never accepted a proposition, be it business or personal, without due consideration, and I shall not do so now."

He nodded and headed toward the door. What he needed was a moment, or a lifetime, to consider all the ramifications of Elizabeth's offer and what it truly meant. He simply couldn't think rationally with those serene green eyes assessing him. "I shall give your proposal serious thought and let you know my decision."

"What about my accounts?"

"I shall pass on the perusal of them today," he said over his shoulder. Her accounts were the last thing he wanted to think about.

"And your uncle's dinner? I received his invitation this morning."

"As per our arrangement, I shall escort you." The dinner he had prompted his uncle to give was supposed to have been the first step toward working his way back into Elizabeth's affection. Sharing her bed was not supposed to have been so much as a possibility. Yet.

"As that is a full week from today, I assume I shall be seeing you before then?" She waved at the ledgers.

"For my accounts if for no other reason."

"I really cannot say at the moment, Elizabeth. I'm not entirely sure what my plans are or exactly how I feel about your proposition." He'd never expected anything like this. Certainly, he had hoped to rekindle the feelings that Elizabeth had once had for him, and desire was among them, but he wanted much more from her.

"If it helps your offended sensibilities, you may think of it as a Christmas gift. For both of us."

"A rose by any other name and all that. We may call it a Christmas gift or whatever we wish, but that does not change the fact of the matter." He grabbed the door handle.

"Nicholas." A firm note sounded in Elizabeth's voice, and he turned back to her. Her gaze met his directly. "I threw myself at you once before and I warn you I shall never do so again. If you truly wish for this particular ship, you need to either set sail or disembark."

"I see." He studied her for a long moment. "You shall have my answer soon, then." He nodded and again started to open the door, muttering to himself. "Christmas gift." She laughed softly behind him.

Perhaps it was her laugh or the subtle shade of triumph that colored her voice or the simple fact that he'd never coveted a ship he hadn't eventually acquired, but abruptly his confusion vanished and his mind cleared. Realization struck him like a nasty blow to the head.

The blasted woman had turned the tables on him once again. She'd done it to him last night and was doing it to him today. He had all the bargaining chips, yet she had him backing away like a frightened fawn from a huntsman. What on earth was wrong with him?

Only an idiot would leave this particular woman at this particular moment. Nicholas Collingsworth was no idiot.

He turned on his heel, stalked across the room, and before she could utter a word, wrapped one arm around her and pulled her tight against him.

"I am willing to accept your proposal, Lady Langley." He kissed her hard and fast. "But I have some conditions of my own."

"I thought you might," she said breathlessly and stared up at him.

"And I cannot agree to your conditions."

She shook her head. "They are not negotiable."

"Everything is negotiable. It's the first rule of business."

"Then I take it back." She pushed against him, but he refused to release her. "All of it."

"You can't. We have an oral agreement. And I have accepted." He kissed her again, slower this time, and longer, until she sagged almost imperceptibly against him. He felt the resistance in her body diminish and his own desire swell. She tasted as he remembered, as she'd tasted in his dreams, faintly of cinnamon and ginger and long-ignored desire. If he continued for so much as a moment longer he'd accept her conditions, damn the consequences, and take her right here on her library carpet. He drew his lips from hers and stared down at her. He wanted her heart, he knew now he always had, and all she offered was her body. Very well then. He would take exactly what she offered. For now. Her eyes were glazed with the resurgence of a passion far too long denied, and she struggled to keep her voice steady. "What are your conditions, Nicholas?"

"Due consideration, Elizabeth, I told you I have never accepted a proposition without due consideration." He pulled her closer and brushed his lips across hers. "I shall give our arrangement the thoughtful consideration it deserves and inform you of my terms when next we meet."

"When will that be?" She rested her hand lightly on the front of his shirt, and the muscles of his chest tightened.

He grabbed her hand, pulled it to his lips, and kissed her palm. She shivered against him. The carpet was looking better and better in spite of the time of day and the distinct possibility that children and servants were liable to appear at any moment. Still, there were doors with locks for that sort of thing.

He blew a long breath and released her, contenting himself with the fact that she appeared more than a bit unsteady on her feet. Excellent. He was rather unsteady himself.

It had been his experience with women, countless or otherwise, that for a female like Elizabeth, the physical act of lovemaking went hand in hand with love. She could resist it all she wished, but it was part of her very nature. He just had to convince her of that.

Of course, he could not mandate love. He could not make it a condition of their arrangement. For now,