The Seduction

Chapter Three

Their gazes locked and warred.

“Is the price too high, my lovely?” Damien inquired lazily.

Vanessa swallowed at the question. What he was suggesting would ruin her. But would ruination be too high a price to save her family?

“What… would I be required to do as your mistress?” she asked, stalling for time.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You cannot guess?”

“I suppose you would expect us to share… carnal relations.”

“That is the usual custom, yes.” His mouth curved in dry amusement. “But I daresay you would not find your duties too onerous. I would visit your bed whenever I wished, naturally, and you must learn to please me.”

“You will likely be disappointed in me. I have no talent in that direction.”

“I won’t know until I have you beneath me.”

Her breath caught at his bold speaking, yet his continued attempts to intimidate only angered her. “I have no experience as a mistress, only a wife. My only… intimacy with a man has been with my husband. And I found that side of marriage… extremely unpleasant. Indeed, I cannot comprehend why your gender finds lust so agreeable.”

Her tone at the end was scornful, cutting, yet Damien couldn’t tell if she was angry at him, her late husband, or males in general.

“But then by all reports, your husband was a boor. And by your own admission, you have never had the benefit of a proper lover. At the risk of seeming immodest, I am skilled enough to teach you whatever you need to know. I believe I can safely predict you will enjoy your education.”

Her chin rose regally. “How can you possibly divine what I might or might not enjoy? You know nothing about me.”

“But I know women, cherie. And I understand pleasures of the flesh. You cannot be so different from the vast majority of your sex. One night in my arms and I’ll have you trembling for me.”

“You were correct, my lord. You are a devil. An arrogant one.”

He smiled. “My crimes are legion.”

When she remained silent, Damien studied her curiously, wondering if her scornful haughtiness was an act. If she was feigning reluctance in order to excite his interest, her ploy was working. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so aroused by the mere presence of a woman.

And why else would she hesitate to snap up his extremely generous offer? No mistress, however magnificent, was worth a hundred thousand pounds, and he was giving her a chance both to redeem that enormous sum and to save her worthless brother. She would be a fool to refuse.

He doubted Vanessa Wyndham was a fool. Obviously accustomed to scandal, she must be experienced and sophisticated and worldly enough to use her body to gain her ends, as were so many of the grasping, shallow beauties of his acquaintance.

It was possible, he supposed, that she truly was cold and unfeeling, incapable of real passion. Then again, it could be pride or fear driving her. Was that guarded, vulnerable look in her dark eyes genuine?

“Do you fear me, Lady Wyndham?” he asked quite seriously.

“Considering the tales told about you, it would be remarkably imprudent of me not to fear you-a man for whom no rule is sacred and from whom no woman is safe.”

“You have no reason to be afraid.”

“Said the wolf to the lamb.”

He smiled at her sharp tongue. It was strangely refreshing to find a spirited beauty who wasn’t afraid of earning his dismissal by speaking her mind.

Casually Damien walked over to a rosewood side table, where he searched in a drawer. Withdrawing a deck of cards, he held it up.

“I beg to differ, my lady. I am no wolf. But I am a gamester, as you said. So I propose to give you a sporting chance. We each draw a card; high card wins. Even odds. If you are the victor, I forgive your brother’s debt entirely. Lose and you serve as my mistress for the summer.”

She stared, her dark eyes wide and uncertain. Damien fancied he could see himself in their lustrous depths, even across the room.

“Your answer, my lady?”

Vanessa shut her eyes as she struggled with the impossible dilemma. It was an outrageous bargain, trading her honor in a desperate bid to gain his aid. She had sold herself once, in marriage, and had vowed never to do so again.

Yet would giving her body to this man be any more repugnant than her marriage had been? Many women would leap at the chance to share Damien Sinclair’s bed. He possessed a legendary reputation for lovemaking. Women found him undeniably desirable-and she was no different, God help her.

And he was offering her an even chance to triumph. She might actually win. But if she lost? She would be ruined.

His proposal was dishonorable, even cruel. But her passion was his price for mercy. And to shield her family from his wrath, she would bargain with the devil.

“You give me little choice,” she replied in a low, toneless voice.

To his credit, he showed no amusement. “You may do the honors. Shuffle the deck and draw first.”

She moved reluctantly toward him and accepted the deck. She had played whist and piquet often enough to be proficient at shuffling, but her hands were so unsteady, the task took a moment.

“Choose your card, sweeting,” Lord Sin prompted.

Spreading the deck on the table, she drew a single card and turned it right side up. A jack of hearts. Hope rose in her breast. It was possible a jack would outrank his draw. Vanessa held her breath, feeling her heart thud.

Lord Sinclair selected his card then, turning it over with long, elegant fingers.

Vanessa stared down at the king of spades, unable to hide her despair. She had lost.

“There is still time,” he murmured, “for you to change your mind.”

Curiously he was giving her a final chance to withdraw. Numbly, she shook her head. She would honor their agreement.

“Then we have a bargain?”

She drew a measured breath, striving for control. She was no coward. And her family would be saved. She had to be content with that.

Indeed, their salvation was far more than she had dared hope for when she had come to plead with Lord Sin. “Yes, I accept.”

She was startled when he raised his hand slowly to touch her cheek. It was all she could do not to flinch.

“Vanessa.” He said her name softly, his tone almost a caress.

When she looked up, their gazes locked for a heartbeat.

“Would you honor me with a kiss to seal our agreement?”

Her gaze dropped to his lips. He had a beautiful mouth, she thought incongruously. She felt her pulse quicken dangerously.

She stood frozen as he bent slightly to bring his mouth into delicate contact with hers. It was the slightest brushing of flesh against flesh, barely that, and yet she felt the sensation like a burning brand. Abruptly she shivered.

When he lifted his head, she could see satisfaction in his smoke-silvered eyes.

“Was that so difficult?”

“I suppose not,” she admitted bleakly.

With a casual finger, he flicked the high collar of her pelisse. “You must be warm, sweeting, wearing so many layers. You do not need this, do you?” His voice was husky, a low caress.

She regarded him in confusion, unable to understand the question.

“Will you take off your pelisse for me?”

“W-why?”

“Because I wish to see you.”

She felt alarm begin to rise within her, an alarm he must have sensed.

His eyes captured hers and held them. “I make you a promise, Vanessa. I won’t take you unwillingly. I give you my word.”

Vanessa did not know if she could believe him, if she could trust the promises of a notorious rake, but it really made little difference. He had paid for the privilege of undressing her if he wished.

With trembling fingers she unfastened the buttons of her pelisse. When she hesitated, he drew the garment from her shoulders and laid it casually across the table.

“I confess disappointment,” he murmured as he scrutinized her plain day dress of brown merino wool. “I much prefer the gown you wore last evening. This does not do your lush figure justice, although it brings out the rich color of your eyes.”

“Come, sit with me a moment.” He took her hand in his and led her to the chaise lounge.

She willed herself not to resist as he drew her down beside him, with the cool assurance of a man who inevitably got his way. Sitting rigidly, Vanessa held her breath, feeling her heart race with trepidation. Did he mean to seduce her here and now?

His face was disquietingly close to hers. She found herself staring at his mouth, that incredibly sensuous, beautifully carved mouth.

Damien saw where her gaze rested and his loins stirred. Yet he made no move to touch her.

He wanted her, he freely admitted. Too much to risk a precipitous action. He was glad he had won the draw, and not because of the vast sum at stake. He was wealthy enough that he would not miss even so large a fortune. But now he would have the opportunity to explore the hidden depths of this spirited, intriguing woman.

His well-honed male instinct told him she was not being coy. She was afraid… and very, very vulnerable. Someone had hurt her-badly, he suspected. It would take every ounce of control he possessed to go slowly with her, to wait until she responded to him freely, but the treasure he would uncover at the end would be well worth the effort.

He couldn’t allow her to leave just yet, not before he began his campaign to vanquish her fear of him and to win her trust. Once out of his presence, she would only torment herself with dark imaginings, build him up in her mind till he was an evil monster.

No, first he wanted her to sample a taste of the pleasure he could give her, so she could begin to see he wasn’t really so fearsome.

The sweet scent of her rose up to tease his nostrils, but with iron-willed control, he forced his desire to remain in check.

“Will you look at me, sweeting?” When she acceded reluctantly, he went on, keeping his tone disarming. “You think me a libertine, I know, but am I such an ogre?”

“I… don’t know you well enough to make such a judgment.”

He smiled. “True. And like you, I have never faced this particular circumstance before. We shall just have to improvise.”

Vanessa couldn’t look away; there was something warm and tender in his eyes that allayed her panic.

“I should like to kiss you again, Vanessa. Will you deny me a kiss?”

She felt her heart beating a wild pulse in her throat. “Are you giving me a choice, my lord?”

“Indeed. The choice will always be yours.”

She searched his face, looking for signs of deception, finding none. He had promised he wouldn’t take her against her will. Perhaps he truly meant it.

When she made no reply, he raised his hand again to her cheek. “You have such lovely silken skin.”

His thumb stroked her jaw, his touch lingering and provocative. She wanted to move, to flee his disturbing nearness, yet she was held captive by the intensity of his gaze, by the raw, powerful sexuality emanating from him.

His knuckles brushed over her moist, parted lips. A frisson of fiery sensation sparked from his fingers to her skin.

“Your answer, sweet Vanessa?” He tilted her face up to his. “Will you kiss me?”

His voice stroked her senses like velvet, weakening her defenses. The need to protect herself from this man was strong. And yet… she didn’t want him to stop touching her.

“Yes…” she murmured, her voice a whisper of sound.

It was enough. His palm cradled her face gently, with infinite tenderness. Vanessa watched, spellbound, as his ebony lashes lowered to shadow his sensual eyes. His breath fanned warm against her lips, before his mouth settled on hers with the slow, sure pressure of experience.

A heated rush of feeling assaulted her. His kiss was a languid, intimate knowing of her mouth, one that stole her breath away. When she made no protest, his tongue penetrated her lips in a sensual invasion. The taste of him was arresting. Her hands rose to press lightly against his chest, yet she didn’t really want to push away. She could feel the hardness of his corded muscles beneath her fingers, the heat of his powerful torso, smell the arousing scent of him, warm and faintly musky.

His tongue played in a leisurely, erotic dance while he continued his tender assault with his fingers. Vaguely Vanessa realized he was caressing her again, stroking with hushed delicacy the column of her throat, her bare collarbone, her shoulder…

Some moments later his long fingers curved over the square neckline of her gown. She tensed when he drew down the bodice to reveal the full, rounded contours of her breasts above her chemise and corset. As if from a great distance, she heard him whisper.

“Don’t be afraid, angel…”

The insinuating murmur of his husky voice quieted her alarm.

Slowly he bent his head, his lips following the path his fingers had taken, his soft caresses holding her entranced. A tremor shook her as he tugged on the edge of her chemise. She felt the soft brush of his breath on the ripe swells… and suddenly went rigid. He meant to kiss her bare breasts!

Her breath fled, not so much from his shocking intentions as from the primitive sensations he aroused in her. A whimper escaped her lips when he freed her bosom. She couldn’t prevent the shameful tingling of her breasts, the brazen heat that coiled inside her, and yet… The appalling realization struck her that she wanted him to kiss her there.

She flinched when he grazed the aching tip of her nipple with his tongue, but not with pain; the responsive arousal that pulsed between her thighs startled her and made her tremble. With expert skill he drew the soft, swollen flesh between his lips, capturing the pouting crest. Vanessa shuddered at the blatant carnality of it.

He went on arousing her, teasing the furled bud with his velvet-rough tongue, sucking gently with his warm mouth. Stunned, she arched toward him, wanting the searing pleasure he ignited in her.

A soft moan escaped her at his tantalizing devil’s sorcery. At the sound, he left off tasting her nipple and took her mouth again, his kiss turning suddenly hot and hungry. The unexpected fierceness of it dredged a raw whimper from deep in her throat.

Involuntarily her hands rose to press against his shoulders. Then, suddenly, the spell between them shattered. Lord Sin abruptly seemed to recollect himself and inexplicably broke off his kiss.

Brusquely, he pressed his forehead against hers and gave a ragged laugh, as if straining for willpower. A wave of disappointment crushed Vanessa. She hadn’t wanted his embrace to end-nor had he, it seemed.

He drew a measured breath, but his husky voice held a raw edge when he spoke. “Forgive me. I momentarily forgot myself.”

His beautiful, chiseled face came into soft focus. Vanessa stared at him, torn between dismay and desire. Never had she had such a primal reaction to a mere kiss.

“I think you vastly underestimate your charms, sweeting. If you can inflame me without trying, I have no doubt you will make an apt pupil.”

Vanessa felt a surge of shame at the unnerving, inexplicable response he’d drawn from her. Only a wanton would desire such a man.

It was impossible to recover her dazed senses abruptly, but she made an effort to collect herself. She couldn’t look at Lord Sinclair as she fumbled with her disheveled bodice, or when he gently pushed her hands aside and solicitously aided her in covering her bare breasts.

Vanessa accepted his assistance grudgingly. She should be grateful he had ended his embrace before it went too far, for she’d been helpless to resist. She would have let him have his way with her, given him whatever he demanded.

He must have sensed her discomfort, however, for he rose from the chaise and moved an easy distance away.

“Perhaps we should discuss the particulars of our arrangement,” he said casually. “I hope to leave for the country within the week, just as soon as I can employ a companion for my sister. I should like you to accompany me.”

With effort, Vanessa dragged her attention back to the matter between them. She had agreed to be Lord Sinclair’s mistress.

“Where do you plan for me to live?” she asked in a low voice, although loath to contemplate such an irrevocable step.

“I can set you up in a house not an inconvenient distance from my estate.” When she hesitated, his mouth curved cynically. “I shall, of course, provide a carriage and horses for you and assume any other expenses.”

He thought she was bargaining for greater remuneration, Vanessa realized. “Having a carriage was not my concern, my lord.”

“No?”

“I was thinking of appearances. If you furnish me a house and carriage, the world will know I am your mistress.”

“I imagine so,” he murmured guardedly. “That is the usual way of things. But if you have a better suggestion, I am willing to listen.”

“It is not only my reputation I must consider, but my sisters’ as well. They will only suffer, perhaps irreparably, because of my… relationship with you.”

When he glanced at her, the gray eyes had lost warmth. “You wish to renege on our bargain already, angel? If so, it is still not too late to change your mind. You have only to walk out that door.”

“I have no intention of reneging, my lord. But I should like to repeat my original offer. I am willing to serve as companion to your sister. It will provide an excuse, however thin, for my presence in your district. And I believe I could truly be of help to her.”

Damien frowned, but he repressed his first inclination to dismiss her offer out of hand. He’d been urgently searching for a companion for Olivia, it was true. But he hoped to hush the scandal of her aborted elopement as much as possible. With that end in mind, he’d planned on hiring the strictest, most respectable governess he could find, one with an unimpeachable reputation. Yet a more worldly woman might be more sympathetic and accepting of Olivia’s circumstances. And Vanessa Wyndham was already privy to the sordid details.

“I’m not sure you comprehend the difficulties you would face,” he said skeptically. “Olivia is completely bedridden. She suffers from despondency as well as paralysis. To act as her companion would require the patience of a saint.”

“I understand, my lord, and I assure you, I’ve learned to cultivate patience over the years. As I said, I have experience caring for my invalid mother as well as my sisters. And,” she added quietly, “while it might prove little consolation to you, I should like to try to make amends for my brother’s vile actions.”

Damien walked over to the window, where he stood staring down at the elegant thoroughfare that ran in front of his London mansion. His sister was the one truly good thing in his jaded world. Yet he had failed her, leaving her upbringing to the tender mercies of servants. He intended to try to make up for the years of neglect. And he would do anything-anything-to help her recover from her paralyzing accident.

Perhaps the lovely Lady Wyndham was right. Perhaps she might actually be able to help Olivia. And if she managed to salvage her reputation in the process, all the better. He couldn’t blame her for wishing to protect her sisters. If he were honest with himself, her willingness to shield her family, even at the cost of great personal sacrifice, was a prime reason he was drawn to her.

“I suppose,” he said slowly, “that we could put it to the test. You could stay at Rosewood as companion to Olivia for a trial period, a week or two, perhaps. We can always change the arrangement if we find it doesn’t serve.”

Vanessa let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. If she could conceal a shameful liaison with Lord Sin behind the decorous guise of companion, she might at least retain a shred of reputation.

“Naturally,” he added after a moment’s thought, “it would be best to conceal the fact that you’re Rutherford’s sister. Olivia most definitely doesn’t need to be reminded of him.”

“Of course. But I doubt she knows of my relationship to him. Aubrey says they never discussed his family in any detail, and my married name is different from his. Some of your neighbors, however, might make the connection and tell her.”

“They wouldn’t have the opportunity,” Sinclair responded. “Olivia is bedridden and refuses to receive anyone.”

“Perhaps then you could simply say that as a widow of limited means, I’m required to seek a position.”

She saw Sinclair glance at the ormolu clock on the mantel. “That reminds me… I’m late for an appointment with the employment agency. They have several candidates for me to interview. I was about to set out when you arrived.”

She eyed him with a frown. “I thought you said you had an appointment with your tailor.”

“I prevaricated, I admit.”

“Do you do that frequently?”

He flashed a wry smile that was edged with effortless male charm. “I didn’t wish to tarnish your staunch opinion of me as a libertine.”

Unwilling to let herself be charmed any further by this man, Vanessa realized it was time to take her leave. “Pray don’t let me keep you any longer then,” she said, rising to her feet.

“I will ring for a servant to show you out,” he offered.

“I can manage to show myself out, my lord.”

“Under the circumstances, I think we may safely dispense with the titles, don’t you? My name is Damien.”

“Very well… Damien.”

“I like the sound of that on your lips.”

At his provocative tone, she sent him a sharp glance. He was deliberately reminding her of their recent intimacy.

Vanessa gave herself a fierce mental shake, not wanting to remember the taste of his kiss or the sensation of his hot mouth on her breasts. Such lascivious behavior was so unlike her. She’d never been aroused by her husband, not once in their endless year of marriage. Carnal relations had been a duty, an extremely unpleasant one. And she felt sure she would find it just as unpleasant to surrender to a dissolute rake like Lord Sin, no matter how skilled he was at lovemaking and charming the fair sex.

Her thoughts were thus preoccupied as she moved to fetch her pelisse, so that when he came up behind her, she flinched.

“Easy, sweeting,” he murmured in a tone he might use to soothe a frightened mare.

With great reluctance, she accepted his aid in donning her pelisse, and when he turned her to face him, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders, she stood tensely before him.

She wanted to flee, to escape his overwhelming nearness, but he would not let her draw away. Instead he stood looking down at her, holding her captive with his penetrating gaze.

“Be assured, I don’t intend to harm you, Vanessa,” he vowed softly. “I am merely going to seduce you.”

Vanessa felt herself flush. Harming her and seducing her would be one and the same, she had little doubt. Lord Sinclair was a boldly sensuous man, dangerous, fascinating.

He would prove her ruin, she feared.

She wondered if he would demand another kiss, or worse, but thankfully he released her. Without replying, she made her escape.

When he was alone, Damien returned to the window to watch thoughtfully. A moment later he saw Lady Wyndham emerge from the house and descend the front steps, her hood drawn around her face to protect her anonymity.

The driver handed her into the hackney, then climbed aboard and set the team in motion. Yet long after the carriage had faded from sight, Damien remained where he was, staring down pensively, his thoughts in a strange turmoil.

What the devil had he gotten himself into? He hadn’t meant for events to unfold as they had. The last thing he needed just now was a mistress to complicate his life. Certainly not the determined, defensive elder sister of the man he’d sworn to destroy.

He had given the lady every chance to refuse his offer, expecting her to back down from his outrageous proposal. Yet he had to confess pleasure at the prospect of her fulfilling the wager. Intense pleasure.

Damien shook his head in bemusement. When was the last time he had felt such anticipation? The last time his pulse raced at the mere thought of having a woman in his arms, the way it did with Vanessa Wyndham?

“Forever,” he murmured to himself.

It had been an eternity since anyone had made such an impression on him, if indeed ever. He had tasted the charms of Europe’s most beautiful women, and no one had intrigued him quite the way Vanessa Wyndham did, with her stunning combination of defiance and vulnerability and beauty. It was remarkable, the hunger she roused in him so effortlessly.

Briefly he shut his eyes, remembering the taste of her, the delicious feel of her ripe breasts straining for his touch… and his own wild reaction. A simple embrace had inflamed him beyond reason. He’d nearly lost his head, his blood surging thick and hot. Even now the memory affected him.

Damien stiffened as heated images of her flickered before his mind’s eye. He envisioned her naked in his bed, lush and wanton, arching against him as he explored the mysteries of her silken body…

The sensual image set him on fire.

“Have a care, man,” he muttered under his breath. Roughly he locked his jaw against the sudden, painful swelling in his loins.

But then his unexpected arousal had a likely explanation. It had been weeks since he’d enjoyed a woman- weeks spent at his country estate in Warwickshire keeping his injured sister company. He wasn’t accustomed to abstinence. The exquisite Silver Swann had been the last warm body in his bed, in a long line of warm bodies, and he’d been forced to abandon her abruptly when he learned the news of his sister’s crippling fall.

In apology, he’d instructed his secretary to send the actress an emerald necklace to match the bracelet he’d already given her, with a charming note implying that she should find herself another protector. He hadn’t had the opportunity-or, frankly, the desire-to touch another woman until his lovely visitor this morning…

His thoughts again claimed by Vanessa Wyndham, Damien abruptly turned away from the window and gave the bellpull a sharp tug to summon his secretary.

What the devil is so special about her? Why he should find the lady so provocative, so enticing, particularly considering her obvious dislike-perhaps even fear-of him was beyond rationalization.

But he wanted her. And he intended to have her.

His motives were not particularly noble, he admitted. His first base impulse had been to ruin Rutherford’s sister the way his own had been ruined. Forcing Lady Wyndham to serve as his mistress would be a fitting-if incomplete- vengeance.

But that was before he’d kissed her, tasted her…

Damien frowned, wondering why his conscience should suddenly stab him. Was there really any need for him to feel contrition? At her pleading, he’d given up a fortune and the chance to destroy his sister’s seducer. And despite her reluctance, Vanessa Wyndham had bargained herself like any courtesan, traded her body for the chance to save her family.

His concession was more than generous.

And while he was more than willing to seduce her, he had no intention of forcing her to share his bed. In the first place, the appearance of her ruin in her brother’s eyes was far more important than her actual ruination. No matter how dissolute and reckless young Rutherford was, he wouldn’t relish the thought of his sister in the role of mistress.

In the second, Damien reflected, he’d never had to force his attentions on any female. He felt certain he would manage to turn her aversion to enchantment, her reticence to willing surrender.

And that had suddenly become of prime importance to him.

He wanted her willing, wanted her pale, perfect body hot and wanton beneath him. He wanted to hear his name tremble on her lips. He wanted her…

There would be difficulties, of course, in the unusual arrangement they’d agreed upon, with her living in his ancestral home alongside his young, innocent, invalid sister. Certainly he couldn’t advertise that she was his mistress. In fact, his seduction of the lady would be more complex than any affair he had ever embarked upon. But every primal instinct told him the effort would be worthwhile.

“Indeed, a prize worth winning, my angel.”

Damien’s mouth curved in a half-smile. It would be a war of wills between them, he had no doubt. But he looked forward to the challenge of penetrating the lovely Vanessa’s defensive armor.

He would find great pleasure in teaching her about satisfying a man’s desires-and about satisfying her own.