“While she is pretty, in a common sort of way, she has nothing of substance to recommend her,” Lady Melinda went on. “Unless one counts her dowry, which everyone knows is the real source of her popularity. My jealousy got the better of me. Forgive me, darling?”
A lady would grin and abide, Fi told herself as she balled her hands.
The prudent thing to do would be to wait for the pair to leave. To pretend none of this had happened. To ignore her hurt and anger andespeciallyher urge to retaliate.
“I beg your pardon,” Fiona said in a clear, pleasant voice.
She sallied forth into the light, the paillettes on her gown shining like armor. She took grim enjoyment from Lady Melinda’s shocked countenance, the way the woman’s mouth opened and closed like that of a netted fish.
Hawksmoor’s only sign of surprise was the slight elevation of his dark brows.
“Miss Garrity. We did not see you there,” he said with cool composure.
Obviously, you blackguard.
“How strange, my lord.” Fi bestowed a saccharine smile upon him. “We frivolous chits are usually quite difficult to miss.”
“Miss Garrity, if we have, ahem, given you cause for offense,” Lady Melinda began.
“Why should I be offended, my lady?” Fi inquired.
“Er…no reason.” The lady’s face reddened. “But perhaps you misheard—”
“I assure you there is nothing wrong with my hearing. As husbands don’t catch themselves, however, I must put my vulgar fortune to work. I will leave the two of you to your rendezvous.”
Executing a flawless curtsy, she walked past them, her head held high.
Two
“Fuck me harder, Hawk.” Posed on all fours on the bed, Melinda arched her back, moaning, “Yes.Just like that.”
Obliging his mistress, Hawk gripped her narrow hips and plowed her with disciplined force. They’d left the Brambleton ball separately, but Melinda had begged him to come by her home afterward. Although he had not been in the mood, he’d relented in the face of her tearful apologies. She’d greeted him at her door wearing a smile and nothing else.
One thing had led to the next.
“Mount my pussy.” Melinda tossed her brown curls over her shoulder. “Ram that big cock into me like the stallion you are.”
Hawk felt a flash of irritation at the metaphorical commentary and at himself. He regretted giving in to Melinda’s advances this eve. When he’d first met her at a gathering of the Society for Scientific Study and Advancement, she’d seemed like the ideal mistress: a self-possessed widow who shared some of his intellectual interests. She’d claimed to want the uncomplicated arrangement he had to offer, and they were compatible in bed.
Six weeks into the affair, however, Melinda had begun to show her true colors. Beneath her composure lurked a volatile, even vindictive streak. The scene she’d caused tonight had been appalling. Not only had she caught him off guard with her disgraceful accusations, but she’d dragged an innocent miss into their private business.
Not that Fiona Garrity was dragged in, precisely,he thought ruefully.
The chit had descended upon them with a goddess’s wrath. She’d reminded him of a collection of Norse myths he’d read as a child. An illustration blazed in his mind’s eye: Sól, the sun goddess, a red-haired beauty racing a chariot across the sky as she was pursued by snarling wolves. With her fiery hair and celestial blue eyes, her perfect figure clad in a shining gown, Fiona Garrity had been every bit as spectacular as Sól. She’d served him and Melinda her revenge piping hot, and God help him, but her pride and passion had stirred his loins.
When he’d told Melinda that Fiona Garrity was the last woman he would be interested in, he’d been telling the truth. The reason, however, wasn’t due to Miss Garrity’s lack of attractions but the opposite. She appealed to him fartoomuch. From the moment he’d reluctantly re-entered Society, she’d caught his eye…and the eye of every bachelor in London.
He’d avoided her precisely because of the irrational desires she aroused. Depleted by his first marriage, he had no intention of marrying again. He did not have the desire or wherewithal to take care of another wife. Which meant he could not dally with a young virgin, no matter how tantalizing he found her. Moreover, he and Miss Garrity had little in common. She was far too young, spirited, and temperamental for a weary old scholar like him.
Yet he could not deny that Miss Garrity’s elemental allure drew him like iron to a lodestone. He was fascinated by the details of her. Her tresses were not auburn or copper, but a pure, flame-red. Not a single freckle marred her creamy skin. He wondered if her skin was that smooth all over. If the curls between her nubile thighs were as fiery as those upon her head. If her virginal cunny was the same lush, coral-pink as her lips—
His rising seed caught him by surprise. Wanting his partner to go first, he held her hips, slamming into her repeatedly. She mewled as she climaxed, and he allowed himself his own release.
Afterward, he dealt with the French letter and began to dress.
Naked, Melinda lounged against the pillows. “Why don’t you stay the night, Hawk?”
Her request punctured his brief bubble of relaxation.
