“Countess.” His voice was even but charged with anger now. “I can plainly see you are in possession of both your earsandtheir accessories.” Just for good measure he flicked both of her earrings with his fingers. He turned her now so they were facing one another, their lips mere inches away, his eyes intense and searching. “I do not like being lied to and yet I get the distinct impression you have not told me a single truth since I met you.”
She went to speak but he put his finger to her lips. She froze, not sure what he would do next or why her lips were tingling. Would he hit her or kiss her? She closed her eyes, waiting, expecting. All she could hear was the beating of her heart and the rushing of her blood in her ears, but nothing happened. She slowly opened her eyes to find him frowning.
“We will discuss it in the carriage and it had better be good… and the truth.”
She wanted to tell him hell would freeze over before she would give in to his demands. She looked up at him, her best scowl between her brows. His frown was far more effective. His eyes were more like dark bitter chocolate now and she knew then and there with a sinking heart she would have to tell him the truth or at least some of it and another lie would simply not do. Unless… it was a really, really good one! She nodded her acquiescence and he studied her features.
“Good. There is just one thing I must do before we leave—”
His lips descended so quickly on hers there was no time for her to react rationally.
He did not crush her in his arms but held her softly with one arm while the backs of his fingers on the other hand skimmed her cheek. She just stood there, letting him kiss her. What was wrong with her?
His lips danced lightly over hers, causing all sorts of chaos to invade her body. Shock was the least of her worries. She had not been kissed in such a long time and certainly not like this. She had forgotten how potent a kiss could be, how the simple act of pressing lips together could result in such a dangerous force of feeling. Her heart lurched and plunged inside her chest, causing her blood to thrum so violently through her veins it was almost painful.
Oh, how she wanted to kiss him back and that was the real shock. After her husband, she had thought she could live without the touch of a man for the rest of her life and happily so. Her body did not completely agree, it seemed.
She fisted her hands in her skirts, trying desperately to cling to something stable, something real. She failed and her legs sagged, but wedged between Wainwright’s desk and Bellamy’s chest meant she remained standing despite the desertion of her lower limbs.
Unexpectedly, his kiss became more ardent, persistent, as his hands brought her forward and fully against him before caressing her back, his large palms heating her flesh in their wake. She had to resist him, but it was getting harder by the second.
She tried to remember how annoying he was, how arrogant and male he was, but it didn’t help at all. Now all she could think about was how male he was, how hard and strong his body was against hers and how much she… liked it.
She was surprised her body was responding at all. It had always closed off whenever her husband had forced his way into her bed. Numbing herself was the only way she had known how to endure. Numb was not how she was feeling now. Every nerve ending was fully functioning and shooting pleasure in all directions.
It wasn’t fair. She could picture clearly how his face changed to boyish when he smiled. Her hands unclenched, itched. Her fingers stretched and fisted spasmodically in her skirt as she fought to keep control of her traitorous body. She could not let him know how he was affecting her. She could not lose control; it would destroy her and her plans for any kind of future.
Finally he lifted his head and gave her a devastating grin. It was obvious he was immensely pleased with himself and his handy work.
Lisbeth touched her lips which were now throbbing and longing to be kissed again. She gathered her anger and pushed him in the chest. “Damn you, Bellamy! How dare you… kiss me!”
His smile never altered. “’Twas a chore but, I had little choice; it had to be done.”
“Was it another one of your wagers, Bellamy?” She pushed him aside, fighting for some air.
“What use would it have been with no witnesses?” He examined the fingernails of his hand while replying with, “The thing is, if we returned downstairs looking like we had spent our time looking for fictitious ear bobs there would be hell to pay and questions asked, I assure you. This way, with you looking like you have been thoroughly kissed, everyone will understand precisely what they think we have been doing. Do you see?”
No, she did not see! She was so angry she could see nothing but a haze of red before her. “Don’t. Ever. Do. That. Again,” she warned, poking him in the chest with her forefinger with every word. She grabbed her reticule and stormed from the room.
Bellamy laughed and brought his other hand from behind his back. He looked at her notebook in his palm. Just a little longer and he would have had her pistol too. He wasn’t too worried; he’d have it before the night was through. He flipped open the notebook and read the names on the list.
Chapter Five
“Ithink youhad better tell me everything,” Oliver said. He had just consumed three long eye-watering swallows of brandy from a flask he had hidden under the seat of his carriage. He took another swallow and looked at the woman who sat so stiffly in the seat opposite him.
He was still reeling from the kiss and her reaction to him. He had expected her to slap him silly, shoot him, skewer him with one of her hairpins, or all three. The fact she’d just stood there and let him kiss her was not what he had expected, but then he found she did nothing he expected.
Her expression when he had lifted his head from their kiss had shocked him. For the sheerest of moments something in her eyes had given him pause. Had he upset her? Certainly. He hadn’t been lying when he said they needed a reason to be away from the ballroom for so long, but the look she had given him had been something else entirely. Her lovely, bejeweled eyes had held what he thought to be bewildered wonderment and damn if he had imagined a touch of desire there too. Unfortunately, it had been so fleeting he could not be sure. Looking at her now, he must have been mistaken. She looked as calm and cool as she always did.
He raised a brow. “Well, Countess?”
Folding her hands in her lap, she pinned him with those burning sapphire eyes. “What would you like to know?”
“How about the truth?”
“Ah, the truth. About what?”
“Come, let us not keep playing these games. What were you doing in Wainwright’s private chambers?”
