Seduction in Mind (26 page)

"Please, Sam, I can't wait!"

But he didn't stop sucking, ignoring her when she tried to lift him away, tightening his grip on her breasts instead. If someone had asked what was driving him, he wouldn't have known. He never even made love in carriages—or at least not in years. There wasn't room; he preferred comfort. As he preferred not being obsessed if he had the choice.

But lust inundated his soul and something more rare. And maybe he was fighting to save his soul. He'd do what
he
wanted, not she. He would decide where and when and how, as though physical command would prevail over the ravenous desire that had brought him here today, that kept him here even after talk of babies.

So he didn't stop. In some odd way, his freedom was at stake. He licked, teased, tasted, he devoured and manipulated. He tugged on her nipples with his teeth so she had to sit up straighter, moving from one to the other, sucking them in turn gently, thoroughly, punctiliously, until she was more than running wet with desire; she was sobbing frantically for him. Then he sucked harder, so sublimely hard, she braced her hands on her thighs and pressed her breasts into the exquisite, aching agony. He seemed not to notice, and when she should take offense, she found his indifference perfidiously arousing. As though she existed only for his pleasure and she was there to be used—no more than a receptacle for his passions and lust.

Sam's sexual faculties were, as ever, superb. He was consummately aware of Alex's level of arousal—of his. And he was fast moving into a rash, ungovernable mode, when delay and discipline had always been his strength. But nothing made sense today, nothing about his wanting her made sense.

Maybe he'd drunk too much brandy while waiting at the villa, or perhaps the lady's charms were too outrageous, or maybe his reckless impulse to make babies was a sign of some insanity. Whatever the cause, he was very near to mounting her, because he had this overwhelming need to be on top. When it would have been more reasonable in the confined space to have her sit on him. When if he was truly sensible, he'd run like hell.

"Sam, please, please—
please
!"

He covered her mouth with his hand. "Don't," he muttered against her breast, not wanting to hear the heated hysteria in her voice, not wanting to hear the echoing desperation in his brain.

He swore softly, shut his eyes, swore again—and then he gave in to lust, gave up any illusion of control, tumbled her back on the seat, tossed up her skirts, wrenched her drawers open, and gave her what she wanted—what he wanted, what some overriding spirit of begetting wanted.

He could barely stay on the seat, one leg on and the other braced with his foot against the door, but he met her frantic rhythm with his own pounding assault, and they pitched and rolled with the racing carriage and flung themselves at each other, delirious in their eagerness, furious, rampant, uncontrolled.

Until at the very last—when consummation was trembling on the brink—deep-seated duty clamored to be heard, the alarm finally breaching Alex's consciousness. "No!" she gasped, shoving hard against his chest. "I don't want a baby!"

He was already withdrawing as she spoke.

Although his deep-seated sensibilities had nothing to do with duty.

Freedom had been his spur.

While the lovers were struggling with radical notions like babies and marriage, a discussion was under way in the parlor of a small house Farris kept for unofficial meetings. He'd spoken with Collins after leaving Sam, and now the two barristers had been joined by Farida and her brother Mahmud to negotiate a settlement.

Farris had opened the conversation with a warning he'd already delivered to Collins: His client was willing to make a settlement, but only if he could be assured Farida and her brother returned to Egypt.

"Lord Ranelagh commissioned me to relay those stipulations to you," he finished, surveying the brother and sister seated across the table from him.

"First, tell me how much he'll pay me," Farida replied coolly.

"I'm afraid you would have to agree to leave the country first. Without that agreement, I can't begin negotiations."

Mahmud opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it again as his sister shot him a stern look.

"Very well, I agree," she said, willing to say whatever was necessary to get what she wanted. "What will he pay?"

"A thousand pounds."

"Surely you jest. The man is worth millions."

"He's already paid you a considerable sum."

"And well he should after what he did to me. I was an innocent when I met him, and now—" She affected an anguished look. She'd dressed today in a gown suitable to her virtuous pose, a white muslin buttoned to the neck.

"He paid your gambling debts as well," Farris said brusquely, not taken in by her false modesty.

Squeezing out a tear, she waited until it ran down her cheek for all to see. "I was only trying to raise enough money to support my dear brother and myself after we were cast out on the world by the infamous man."

"Considering the content of the accusations in question, perhaps the viscount would be willing to offer my client more than a thousand pounds," Collins interposed. He, too, knew what Ranelagh was worth. Although the viscount's disregard for scandal had to be taken into consideration as well.

"I could authorize another five hundred," Farris said. "But that would be my limit. The lady may not wish too-close scrutiny into her life as well. I suggest you take it."

"Surely you're not questioning my virtue," Farida retorted heatedly.

"I'm not, miss, but the viscount is. There's a possibility we could publish our own account of your relationship with Lord Ranelagh."

"But would you," she said with a degree of composure both barristers marveled at. Neither man had any illusions about the lady's character.

"If it were necessary."

"Farida!" Mahmud blurted out, his agitation plain.

"Leave the room!" she ordered, her voice sharp as a knife.

The young man jumped from his chair and immediately withdrew from the parlor.

"Now then," she said calmly as the door closed on her brother. She slowly surveyed the two lawyers. "Where were we?"

The brother had been frightened. Farris took the initiative. "Fifteen hundred is a very generous offer, miss. The sale of your house will bring you a goodly sum as well. Not to mention the jewelry Lord Ranelagh purchased for you."

"You don't understand. I want a
better
house in Cairo, and my brother Wants his racehorses back, and none of that is possible on fifteen hundred. Perhaps Lord Ranelagh doesn't understand the explicit nature of my story."

"I must tell you, in all good conscience, that Lord Ranelagh is—how do I say this—rather indifferent to public opinion. Had you had a—er—relationship with some other member of the nobility, perhaps your accusations would have been more damning. But the viscount is immune to censure."

"Then, why are you here?"

"I'm here, young lady, to make an offer for you to leave England because the viscount would like that. But if you chose not to or should you not agree to a reasonable sum, he is quite ready to have you publish whatever you wish. And I expect you know him well enough to understand that."

"I'd suggest you consider Mr. Farris's offer," Collins said. Ranelagh had lived with scandal much of his adult life. His offer was more than generous, and if the young lady doubted Ranelagh would say publish and be damned, he didn't.

"Double it and I'll agree."

Collins masked his surprise. Farris said, "Five hundred more."

"A thousand," she countered.

"Seven hundred fifty."

"Done. I'd like it in cash." She stood and smiled at the two men. "It was a pleasure, gentlemen."

"You won't receive your money until you reach Egypt," Farris reminded her.

She hesitated briefly. "Then I'll need three hundred for travel."

"Agreed."

"Three hundred
extra
if you're going to make me wait for my money."

This time Farris hesitated, concerned she would continue to have additional requests.

"You don't expect me to travel in steerage, do you?"

"The sale of your house should preclude that necessity."

"I was under the impression you wished me to leave immediately, Collins will have to sell my house in my absence."

"Very well. Three hundred extra. A ship sails for Cairo next week."

"That should be time enough," she said ambiguously, and turned to leave.

"Collins will draw up the papers. Sign them before you leave."

She glanced back over her shoulder. "You English are always so precise. Of course, I'll sign any papers you like," she replied casually. "I wish you good fortune, gentlemen. This has been a very profitable afternoon."

A note from Farris arrived at the apartment in the Adelphi as Sam and Alex were finishing Claude's excellent dinner.

"Something bad?" Alex queried, taking note of Sam's expression.

"Not anymore," he said, crumpling the paper. Although he wouldn't be entirely satisfied until he heard Farida had reached Egypt.

"That sounds ominous."

"I'm sorry. It isn't… just some unfinished business."

"Some woman is hounding you, I suppose." At his look of surprise, she realized her facetious remark had struck a nerve.

"Not anymore," he said again.

"It's none of my business, I'm sure."

"I'm sure it's not."

"What if I'm curious?"

He leaned back in his chair and gazed at her from under his lashes. "Too bad."

Resting her elbows on the table, she steepled her fingers under her chin and smiled at him. "Then maybe I might be inclined to say too bad to something you might like—later on…"

"Are you threatening to withhold sex?" He grinned. "Is this the same woman who came four times on the drive into the City?"

"I could if I wanted to."

"No, you couldn't."

"Tell me anyway." She stuck her tongue out. "I want to know what's in the note."

"What do I get if I tell you?"

"My undying affection."

He smiled. "You'll have to do better than that."

"Something more tangible?"

"Tangible is fine."

"Something tangible and sexual?"

"There's a combination."

"I'll do it. Now tell me."

"Aren't you supposed to be coy and unwilling for an indeterminate time and then capitulate?"

"Aren't you interested in having sex with me ever again?" she replied pointedly.

"Then don't get angry with what I tell you."

"I won't."

His dark eyes took on a sardonic cast. "I didn't realize you were so impossibly curious."

"And I didn't realize you could be so impossibly difficult."

Inhaling slowly, he debated whether it would be wise to bring up Farida again.

"I'm waiting."

He mentally shrugged away his reservations. If she wanted to know, she wanted to know. "My barrister came to an agreement with the woman from Egypt. For a sum of money she has agreed to return home."