“I doubt a single female would be able to satisfy a man of your vast appetites.”
“I think you underrate yourself.”
“And I think you overrate yourself.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a set-down? Come, darling, I might become insulted.”
“Would it be possible to insult you sufficiently to make you give up your pursuit of me?”
The long, vaguely amused look he gave her made her heartbeat quicken. How could she allow herself to be so affected by the wic
ked charm in those arresting eyes?
Vanessa shivered with awareness. Whenever she was near him, she fought temptation. And there was so much of it.
“Here we are,” he murmured after a moment as they came to the end of the terraced garden.
They had reached the conservatory. When Damien held the door open for her, Vanessa hesitated to enter the dark, cavernous hothouse.
“Wait a moment, and I shall light a lamp.” He entered, and a moment later she heard the flare of a lucifer being struck.
“There… does that dispel your anxiety?”
She couldn’t say that it did. If anything her anxiety increased, for the lamp’s glow only highlighted the chiseled beauty of his face.
Her wariness increased more when she saw Damien latch the door behind them. He must have seen her response, for he said casually, “I prefer not to be disturbed, but if it will ease your mind I shall help you arm yourself.”
He moved over to a shelf where gardening tools were kept. After searching a moment, he handed her a two-foot length of pipe.
“This will make a substantial weapon. You may beat me off with it if I make untoward advances.”
His warm eyes touched by lazy sensuality, he smiled down at her, obviously not worried that he was in any immediate danger from her. Vanessa accepted the pipe with skepticism, suspecting that it, like the key to her bedchamber, was designed to engender a false sense of security.
He led her into the vast interior of the conservatory, along aisles of potted roses and exotic orchids, toward an array of lemon and lime and orange trees. The air was much warmer here, moist and fragrant with the scents of blossoms and damp earth.
Eventually they reached a pair of exquisite Chinese silk screens that had been erected for privacy. Beyond was a tiled pool, partially sunk into the ground, filled with gently swirling water.
“An existing boiler heats the water,” Damien explained, “but new pipes had to be routed.”
The pool was obviously designed for an invalid, Vanessa saw. The near end was equipped with a wide ledge approximately thigh high, while inside the pool a narrow ramp sloped downward, so that the patient could be eased into the water.
“So what think you, sweeting? Does it meet your expectations?”
She nodded honestly. “I find it quite impressive. Indeed, I am astonished.”
“Astonished that I could be creative? I do possess a few modest talents. Depraved libertines are allowed them, you know.”
“Your ability doesn’t surprise me. Just that you would put your mind and talents to such good use. Most noblemen of means have a decided lack of interest in productive accomplishments.”
He smiled gently. “Then I hope I may prove to be different from the noblemen of your acquaintance.”
He showed her an oak cabinet that held towels and blankets and dressing gowns. Then he set the lamp on a bench.
“Would you care to test the water? It is warm and quite pleasant.”
“Now?”
He gave her one of his soul-stopping smiles. “Now is an ideal time. And if you enjoy the waters, you will be in a better position to persuade my sister to make use of them.”