She frowned. “I no longer have a real home to miss.”
He reached across and took her hand. “Tell me?”
She swallowed. “I’d rather not.” She didn’t want his sympathy; it distracted her from her purpose. And yet, his warm brown eyes invited her to reveal all, and she found it surprisingly difficult to resist.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He still held her hand, and when his thumb stroked the sensitive skin at her wrist, her pulse galloped.
Verity smiled and withdrew her hand. “You haven’t. I’m delighted to be here in London, in such charming company.”
With an answering smile, he raised his glass in a silent toast.
She smiled. This was business she reminded herself. But couldn’t business be combined with pleasure?
“Care for an oyster, mademoiselle?”
She screwed up her nose. “I’ve never eaten them, they look unappealing.”
He popped one in his mouth. “They taste of the sea, delicious.” He laughed at her expression. “Go on, be brave, try one.” He squeezed lemon over the shell and held the oyster out to her on a tiny silver spoon.
Verity held his wrist, aware of the strength of him and the dark hair tickling her skin. It did smell of the sea. Soft and smooth, the oyster slipped down her throat. “Odd, but not unpleasant.”
“They are known to be an aphrodisiac.” His brown eyes smiled into hers. “Like silky flesh upon the tongue.”
It was a perfect description. She raised her eyebrows and shifted in her seat as her nether regions warmed. Was it the oyster?
They drank another bottle of champagne, as they picked at the light meal. The wine relaxed her, made her bolder. Beaumont talked of his daughter, and his country estate, the needs of his tenant farmers and his fine stable of horses. She thought him a good man, mannered and gentle. He did not attempt to pry into her life, perhaps sensing she didn’t want him to. Strangely, she found liking him made what she must do more difficult. So much easier to manipulate and lie to a scoundrel.
He escorted her to the door of her suite. “Thank you for a delightful evening.”
“The evening need not end here.” She placed a hand on his chest, moving over hard muscle. His heart beat fast, like her own. “Will you come in?” Not waiting for his answer, she opened the door and walked inside, dropping her cape onto a chair.
He followed her in. The room became more intimate and smaller with him standing there, so tall and broad-shouldered. All her senses alert, she breathed in the heady perfume from a vase of roses on the table. Candlelight and the blazing fire, lit in advance of her arrival, painted a seductive glow over the satin and brocade furnishings.
Beaumont shut the door behind him then stood, studying her. She should say or do something accomplished, light-hearted, and playful, but instead she put a hand to her mouth to hide her trembling lips and fought to overcome her reluctance to betray him. She liked this man.
As if sensing her inner turmoil, he came and barely brushed his hands over her shoulders and arms. His touch made her shiver. “Champagne?” She motioned to the table where the chilled bottle and crystal glasses stood ready.
“Haven’t we had enough?” He caught her arm, turning her back to face him. “You are the most beautiful woman I have seen in an age.” His brown eyes glowed with sensual warmth. “I’m sure you’ve heard it said many times.” His hands slid to her waist and drew her closer, his voice husky. “But I wish to tell you, again, and again.”
A jolt of electricity at his touch stunned her into silence. Verity’s experience of men was somewhat limited. Jacques’ brutish attack on her had scared her. Beaumont was a lord of the realm, born and bred to manage his fortune and estates; that was evident in his manner. But he appeared to be a reasonable man. She prayed he was.
He cradled her face in his hands and sought her lips, kissing her gently as their breaths mingled. His mouth moved over hers. He tasted of sweet champagne, and salty seafood. She breathed in his clean male scent and a beguiling hint of Bergamot. He held her loosely within the circle of his arms, making her fears decrease. His kisses teased, then grew more insistent. When his tongue explored her mouth, she tensed. He drew away to gaze deeply into her eyes. “You want this?”
She nodded, now certain that she did. She trusted him. Beaumont was no brute and would not hurt her. Would it be she who hurt him? It would not be easy to carry out her mission. But if she failed, her father would die. She must not forget that for a moment.
