“Then find someone who is.”
“But I want you,” he whispered into her mouth. His lips were on hers and he was pulling her in to him.
The firelight burned low in the room as Sebastian took her mouth, which tasted of strawberries and custard. She was luscious and alluring and he was behaving badly. So badly.
“Please.” She pulled away from him, moving around the bed.
“You are correct, mademoiselle. I have behaved badly. Forgive me. I had too much drink.”
“Do you mean it?” She looked at him hesitatingly.
No, he thought. “Yes.”
“Then you are forgiven,” she consented. “I can do no less if you ask for forgiveness.”
But though he was sorry for his behavior with her, he was pretending too much. He was pretending that what he felt for her wasn’t as strong as it was and he knew that it was only a matter of time. She was consuming his thoughts and that wasn’t something he was used to. Normally the women he enjoyed were married and they were lovers on the side, or ladies such as Juliette.
But Sophie was something entirely different. Innocent and virginal, he could not claim her without paying a penalty. But he also didn’t know how much longer he could go without doing something about it. She was getting under his skin.
“Let me escort you back downstairs,” he suggested.
***
Later that evening, Dorset, Etienne and Sebastian enjoyed brandy and cigarettes and the Duke mentioned Sophie.
“She’s quite the beauty, is she not?” he said absently to no one in particular.
Etienne nodded and didn’t seem too concerned. He had been practically seduced by his friend’s younger sister all night long. If Leila wasn’t touching his thigh, she was touching his leg with her silken toe. When she had asked him to help turn the pages of her music, she had leaned in to thank him and actually licked his ear. She was a temptress!
He had been rock-solid much of the evening and the Arabian woman seemed to delight in tormenting him. When she had said good evening and left with the other women, she had purposefully thanked him for being a good friend to her brother. It had been a farce. She had reached down to stroke him through his breeches and Etienne almost pushed the little tart up against the wall.
She was a demon in the shape of a beautiful young woman. He knew he must never be alone with her again. No wonder her parents had sent her to France. He could well imagine some Arabian prince fighting to the death over her honor. He was certain Sebastian had no idea how badly his sister was pushing the boundaries with him.
He tried to focus on the conversation. They were still discussing the other beauty that evening, Sophie. Etienne had no opinion about the woman other than the obvious, which was that she was a beautiful woman.
“She is lovely,” Sebastian agreed with the duke.
Etienne moved nearer the fire while Dorset clasped Sebastian around the shoulders. “I want her as my mistress, Fairfax.”
“I don’t think she’ll suit, Dorset. She’s young, innocent. She’s never been married,” Sebastian explained.
“Dammit all—you’re right. But if she married….”
“Well, yes, if she married. But has she given you any indication that she wants to be—”
“Hell, man! You’ve spent more time with her than I have, what with that grandmother lurking around like a human chastity belt. But you know women. Promises of jewels and furs and she’ll be mine for the taking.”
Even though Sebastian had thought and said almost the very same thing to her face, hearing the Duke speak about making Sophie his mistress made him want to throttle him.
“When you’ve spent time with her, what has she done, said?” Dorset asked, taking another brandy for himself.
Sebastian remembered the rain falling down and those lush lips opening underneath his like a precious rosebud at the cricket game. He remembered the dark cloakroom at the theater and wanting to press her into the fur coats and feel her legs wrapped around his waist. And then this evening. This had been the worst yet.
He had wanted to lock the door and push her into the large four-poster bed. He had wanted to strip every single piece of fabric from her body and wait until she moaned and begged for him to give her a release. He would kiss every inch of her and then give her what they both wanted. He would pull down that auburn hair and comb his fingers through it and press into her. He would be the first and last man she ever knew.
“I’m sorry, what?” Sebastian asked.
“Jesus, Fairfax! You have the strangest look on your face!” Dorset laughed and looked to Etienne, who was gazing stupidly into the fire.