“Why not?” she said, just to irritate him further.
“It is inappropriate,” he retorted. And then, as if he had just realized exactly how inappropriate the situation was, Max’s mouth closed hard. His brown eyes narrowed, and his gaze dropped to her breasts, and then down to her narrow waist beneath which her skirts belled out.
He’s viewing the merchandise!
At that moment Marietta wanted to slap him. Hard.
As if Max himself had just realized what he was doing, his gaze shot back to hers. To her surprise, a flush warmed his tanned cheeks, and his frown grew even blacker than before.
“Do you live here, Miss Greentree?” he asked her in that disapproving manner that instantly caused her hackles to rise even more than they had already. What right did he have to question her reasons for being here?
Marietta fixed him with one of her clear, unflinching looks. “I don’t think that is any of your business, Max.”
Max was attempting to find his way through his confusion. The direct and discomforting Miss Greentree was certainly the last person he had ever expected to see standing framed in the doorway of Aphrodite’s Club. She had been an annoying and yet interesting interlude in Ian’s balloon, with her pert conversation and big blue eyes that seemed to be looking right inside him. She was sweet, yes, pretty, undoubtedly, but—he had told himself firmly—not worth a second glance when you had been to as many social engagements and been match-made as many times as Max.
And now here she stood, those blue eyes blazing and her kissable pink mouth determined, upon the threshold of the most famous bordello in London. It was very disconcerting for a man who considered himself a reasonable judge of character. He would never have picked her out as one of Aphrodite’s protégés—she lacked the experienced eyes. Now suddenly she wasn’t the woman he had believed her to be, and he felt his interest captured in a way it had not been captured for a long time. Miss Greentree, the sweet innocent with the eccentric conversation, had now become Miss Greentree, the mysterious lady of the night.
A fascinating and intriguing combination.
The memory of holding her in his arms during the balloon landing tripped blithely into his mind, and brought with it a surge of sensations. He remembered her soft curves, bountiful for such a petite woman, as she lay atop him, and the sweet fragrance of her hair as it fell loose about his face. The way her long dark lashes had framed her big blue eyes, as she gazed at him in startled trepidation. And yet she’d been courageous in their moment of danger. He wouldn’t have let anything happen to her, of course, but she couldn’t know that. Yet she hadn’t shrieked or fallen into hysterics. There was a toughness beneath the fragile exterior, a hint at hidden depths that intrigued him.
Miss Greentree was certainly an unusual woman.
Max realized that she was staring back at him, warily, watchfully. And no wonder. They were standing very close, and the scent of her, the look of her, was heating his blood. He had come here tonight on a whim, for some distraction, to try and forget his troubles. For one night at least, it would be pleasant to have a woman in his arms who made no mention of the scandal his life had become, who would pretend he was just an ordinary gentleman—a desirable gentleman and not one to avoid at all costs.
Miss Greentree might be irritating and pert, but suddenly Max knew that he wanted her—with a deep and primeval urge. She was here to sell her services, whatever he had previously believed to the contrary, and he was here to buy them. Why was he hesitating?
Max wasn’t a man to make snap decisions, far from it, but he made one now.
“Miss Greentree, are you free for this evening?”
“This evening?” Marietta goggled at him. Did he mean, could he mean…? But of course he meant what she thought he meant! He was about to proposition her—she felt light-headed with a combination of shock and triumph.
Max’s jaw had tightened. “No, I’ve changed my mind.”
He didn’t want her after all! Marietta gave a sigh of relief, and ignored the little jolt of chagrin. “Well, I didn’t like to embarrass you, Max, but I’m only here—”
“I’ve changed my mind about the evening,” he went on, talking over her attempts at an explanation. “I want you for the entire night.”
The entire night!
“Oh,” she gasped, her mind suddenly blank. “I don’t know…That’s very…flattering, Max. I hope…Maybe the evening would be more sensible. I mean, what if I was no good at…at it, and you had to ask for your money back. Awfully embarrassing for us both. Although I’m sure it’s something you get better at, with…with practice. Although my own is limited and…and…”
He laughed as if he didn’t particularly want to but he just couldn’t help it. “Miss Greentree—”
“Marietta. My name is M
arietta.”
“Marietta. Enchanting.” He gave her a small perfunctory bow. “To answer your question, I think that the physical attraction between two people depends on a great many things and none of them are easily—”
“Well I think one glance is often enough.”
Of course she had decided views on this, as with everything. She was looking at him as if she expected him to argue, so he did.
“Nonsense,” Max said mildly.
Her pretty mouth quirked. So she liked to be at odds with him, did she? She was one of those women who preferred to be at loggerheads than to be in agreement? In a world where politeness was all important, the thought of arguing with Marietta Greentree was oddly attractive to Max. Since he had lost his social standing and become embroiled in scandal he had discovered that being polite was often just an excuse not to express one’s true feelings. Being impolite could actually be extremely liberating.