“Honest regarding . . . So you discuss these matters? How . . . interesting.”
“I prefer a direct approach. It is mutually beneficial.”
“I am astonished that the ladies of the ton talk about such things at all, let alone directly.”
“I normally do not pursue ladies of the ton. I leave their delicate sensibilities to other men. My brothers, for example.”
“Any lady then. Any woman. Even this conversation is, to me, astonishing in its directness, and I am in no danger of one of your seductions.”
He leaned forward, engaging in the conversation more closely. He rested his hand on the table, so close to her own that she expected him to caress her. “If you are in no danger, it is mostly because I do not believe in seductions. That implies cajoling someone into something they believe they should not do. I prefernegotiations, and we have already begun those. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
She glanced down at the hand a mere inch from her own. She imagined those fingers moving slightly, and meandering on her skin. He was teasing her deliberately. There was nothing hypothetical aboutthat.
“So, then, hypothetically, do you think you would enjoy being my lover, Padua?”
So it was Padua now. The first liberty taken.
“That depends on the direct negotiations, doesn’t it?”
“You are a clever woman. I like that. I assume you are not referring to settlements and property, and the other things mistresses want to discuss.”
“As I see it, those negotiations should come after the first ones.”
“Not only clever, but wise too.”
“I think—I could be wrong, but—I think you are direct for a reason. It would behoove a woman to learn why, before she filled her mind with visions of jewels and a new wardrobe.”
He laughed. “You are indeed a rarity if jewels do not turn your head and take the lead in negotiations. Or perhaps you value them more poorly than other women do.”
“I am neither wise nor clever, and I hope not rare. Only a woman’s intuition guides me. Soyoutellme, sir. Would I enjoy being your lover? Or are you one of those men with peculiar notions of pleasure?”
Her own directness surprised him. For an instant he looked taken aback.Good.
He recovered in a snap. Of course he did.
“Since you are well read, I will assume you know to what you refer. Honesty I promised, and honesty it will be. I do not think of myself as peculiar. I am not a bishop, that is true. However, I am also not the Marquis de Sade.”
“That is good to know. Within the hypothetical context of our conversation, that is.”
“And you, Padua? Would you object to pleasures of a more adventurous sort?”
It was her turn to be taken aback. She sipped of her wine. The deep red liquid sloshed near her nose. Clearly she had enjoyed the wine too much tonight. Look where it had gotten her. Discussing inappropriate topics with a man who was in a very real sense her enemy.
Even worse, she was thoroughly enjoying it.
It was past time to end this.
She set the glass down. She removed her hand from the table. “Since we are playing a game, I will allow that a bishop would no doubt be quite boring. Even to one as lacking in experience as myself. But you were wrong when you said I value jewels poorly. At the moment, in my present situation, I would be foolish not to value them very highly indeed.”
He regarded her closely. She suffered it, wishing his gaze did not excite her. She could not blame the wine for all the heat and tingles.
“You seem to have opened the door to a proposition, Padua.”
“I certainly did not!”
He stood. Her heart pounded so hard she heard it in her ears. He walked over to her. She saw him as if time slowed.
He stood beside her chair. She felt him so completely he might have embraced her. Something in her—some recklessness she’d never known she harbored—wanted him to try it, to vanquish her good sense with one touch. She knew that was all it would take.
