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“The jewel of Arabie? What the devil is a jewel of Arabie?”

“I think it’s a magnificent diamond that everyone coveted over the years.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“Well, perhaps nothing at all if you fail to see any obvious comparisons.”

“Listen to me, Corrie. Don’t dance with Devlin Monroe. I strongly advise you to avoid him.”

“He looks like a vampire until he smiles, then he is quite nice-looking indeed.”

“Vampire? Devlin? Oh, you mean his pallor.” James looked thoughtful, rubbed his chin. “Yes, he’s known for his pallor. A vampire? Come to think of it, perhaps, I haven’t ever seen him during the day.”

“Really? Oh goodness, James, mayhap-oh, you sod, you’re teasing me.”

“Of course I’m teasing you, Corrie. But Devlin-listen to me now-he’s got a reputation for being involved in very different sorts of things-”

“What kind of different sorts of things?”

“You don’t need to know that. Just obey me and you’ll be all right.”

“Obey you? You?” She threw back her head and laughed, just couldn’t help it, and many female heads turned to see the source of that laughter-if they weren’t looking already, their focus James, naturally.

“I nearly raised you. Yes, pay attention to me. I’m older, I’ve had more experience, and most important, I’m a man, and thus I know about other men and their base-well, never mind that. Just avoid Devlin Monroe.”

“Base what? You mean wicked? You’re saying that Devlin Monroe is wicked? Doesn’t it take a man many years and a lot of concentration to attain true wickedness? Devlin is young. How can he possibly be wicked?”

James wanted to take that lovely white neck he’d never seen before, he’d swear to that, between his hands and gently slide his fingers around that neck and squeeze.

“I didn’t say he was wicked. He likes different sorts of things.”

“Well, so do I. Is this what experience gains you, James? Wickedness?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous. Forget Devlin. Now, I see Kellard Reems speaking to your Aunt Maybella. He is quite unexceptional. Dance with him. If he ogles your breas-your bosom-tell me and I’ll kick his teeth down his throat.”

She whispered, nearly choking, “Men say breasts?”

“Forget that.”

But she wasn’t about to forget it. Corrie was staring down at herself with new eyes. “It’s, well, so very unambiguous, that word.”

“Yes, that’s true. Men tend to be unambiguous and straightforward, unlike ladies, who must sugarcoat everything with lace and frills and outlandish words, like bosom.”

“Breasts,” she repeated slowly, fully tasting that wicked word, and James grabbed her arms and gave her a shake, anything to wipe that thoughtful look off her face. “Listen to me, Corrie, you don’t want to be saying that, particularly in front of a man. Do you understand me? A man might-very well, he will of a certainty get the wrong impression about your virtue and dwell upon activities you might share with him. It’s bosom, Corrie. That’s it. Do you promise?”

“Ah, there’s Devlin the vampire. Look at that very nice smile of his. White teeth against that white face of his and those really dark eyes-just like Judith McCrae’s eyes, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think.”

“Yes, all dark and snapping and-I think I’ll ask him what he’s doing at midnight, and offer him my neck.”

He remembered his hand pounding down on her bottom that day. That hand flexed, fingers tingled.

She left him, not even a nod of gratitude that he’d given her valuable advice. No, she’d walked off, fanning herself, because he’d danced her into the floor and she’d loved it. At least she hadn’t given him one of her patented sneers that made him want to rub her face in the mud.

James stood there, frowning, until he felt some fingers on his sleeve and turned to see Miss Milner fluttering her eyelashes at him. He sighed, only a very brief sigh because he was a gentleman, turned, and dredged up a smile.

As for Jason, he danced Miss Judith McCrae toward the huge glass doors that gave onto the Ranleagh balcony and gardens below, and pictured her naked.


Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical