“You do look lovely tonight,” he said, and when her head turned to his, her profile in the light of the patent lamp, he couldn’t help but add, “though that is not altogether the truth. In actuality, you are beautiful.”
“Thank you, Lord Berkley.”
“Jeffrey.”
“Jeffrey,” she said with a smile. “And thank you for the invitation tonight.”
“For that, you will have to thank my mother,” he returned, “though I was pleased when I heard of your acceptance. Have you been keeping well?”
“Since yesterday?” she asked with a teasing laugh. “Yes, I have, as a matter of fact. And you?”
“I have,” he said with a nod. “Though I have been rather distracted as of late.”
“By your investigation?” she queried, and it took him a moment to discern of what she spoke.
“Oh, into the women’s paper? I can hardly recall its title.”
“The Women’s Weekly,” she supplied. “And yes, that is to what I am referring.”
That, in fact, was one quest he had been quite remiss of pursuing lately, which was entirely her fault. He should have been chasing many more lines of inquiry. It would not be altogether difficult to find the publisher. He simply had to pretend to be an advertiser, perhaps, or come to the paper with a story. But, no, all he had done was ask a few questions of people who may have a connection, and at their refusal to provide further information, he had let it be.
And he knew exactly why he had done so. Because to shut down this paper would displease his sisters, and, most of all, Phoebe Winters. And all he wanted to do at the moment was to make her happy.
His eyes dipped below where was proper, to the lace that teased him as it covered just enough of the top of her creamy breasts to be appropriate. He longed to reach out a finger and trail it along the edge of the lace, to dip it low to feel how soft her skin was underneath it.
“Phoebe,” he said, clearing his throat — and his head. “Follow me.”
He took her hand then, somewhat surprised when she allowed it, as she didn’t seem the type of woman to typically follow the lead of a man anywhere. He ducked around the corner, peering through the doorway of a row of private boxes. Finding one empty, he drew her in quickly enough to elicit a sharp gasp and pressed her back against the wall within the shadows, where he brought his head down to hers and took those plush, enticing lips in his.
He wasted no time in beginning softly or gently, but rather crushed his mouth upon hers, licking the seam of her lips, though she needed hardly any encouragement to open them to him. He tasted the mixture of mint and berries on her tongue, and when her fingers dug into the backs of his shoulders, his desire bloomed within him. He couldn’t get enough of her, and he had no idea what to do about it.
Finally, voices from the corridor beyond brought him back to his senses, and he reluctantly let her go. She looked up at him, her eyes hazy, her cheeks flushed, and her lips thoroughly ravaged.
“I would apologize,” he said, hearing the gruffness of his voice as he fought to regain control, “however that would mean that I regret my actions, and the truth is, Phoebe, I would do that all over again.”
“I had always thought you to be a patient man,” she replied with an arch of her brow, and he wondered how she could keep such control upon her emotions. “It seems I may have been altogether wrong about you.”
He chuckled low at that and would have kissed her again just for her tart reply, but he sensed a presence in the doorway and turned to find the Earl and Countess of Torrington entering with a look of some incredulity on their faces.
“My apologies, Lord Torrington, Lady Torrington,” he said with a nod of his head. “It has been some time since I have attended the theatre, and I seem to have found myself in the wrong box. I hope to speak with you later on this evening.”
And with that, he led Phoebe out the door, fully aware that they would soon be the subject upon the lips of all in attendance.
Now he had to make it through five acts of a Shakespeare tragedy with this siren sitting beside him. If Phoebe wished to witness patience and control, well, she was about to do just that.