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Is she worth the risk? Looking at her, he felt it again. She pulled at something inside him. Whenever he was with her, it was as if he were being swept out to sea, caught in the inexorable grip of an outgoing tide and helpless to fight against it. It terrified him a little. Perhaps more than a little. But that fear was no match for her draw.
He decided to see how far she would go to put him off. “As long as you’re in it, I should not mind in the least,” he lied smoothly. “Don’t forget—I’m already well accustomed to Society’s censure.”
Her gaze sharpened. “Gentlemen often boast of their own boldness but fail to follow through when their reputation is at risk.”
Drawing close enough to breathe in her lavender scent, he gave her his best “I don’t give a damn” smile. “My name is already blackened.”
“It’s not nearly as black as it could be,” she countered, her mouth hardening.
How he longed to kiss those lips back to softness. “Is that an invitation to sully my name further?” He grinned. “Because if it is, I wholeheartedly accept.”
“It’s a warning,” she murmured, her expression going utterly flat. “There are rules to this game, Lord Blackthorn. Rules of which you are clearly unaware. Such ignorance can be dangerous.”
And the gloves are officially off… He sobered. “Then please, by all means, enlighten me.”
A long pause followed in which he could almost see words being weighed behind her gem-like eyes. “For a man who prides himself on being known for his masculinity, accepting an invitation to join us would carry a most unpleasant consequence. No matter how you tell the tale—and we both know you would be unable to resist the temptation to boast—there would always be a question in the listener’s mind concerning your role.”
With unerring accuracy, she’d struck right at the heart of his misgiving. “You mean people might think I’m a—”
“Let us not give voice to ugly labels, but yes,” she interrupted. “And there would be no way for you to unequivocally prove otherwise. It’s a shadow you would live with for the rest of your life. So, I suggest you think long and hard about your next move.”
The blatant innuendo wasn’t lost on him, but he didn’t dare smile. “I thought you’d know by now I’m not afraid of gossip. I’m—”
“Before you decide whether to continue on this path, there is something more you ought to know.” She drifted a little closer and tipped her face up, impaling him with a seductive sea-green stare. “Since we have declared ourselves friends, may I depend upon your complete discretion?”
It was difficult to speak when all the breath had been stolen from him, but he managed to rasp out a rough “Yes.”
Holding him captive with her gaze, she lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “Friendship is readily won, trust less so but not impossible. Both are required for what you seek. Yet even with these, you will never be issued the invitation you covet unless you convince Harrow your desire for him is equal to that which you feel for me. We never bed anyone we don’t both want.”
Pure shock skittered down his spine. Well, I’ll be damned. The last thing he’d expected was for her to reveal Harrow’s true inclination when it came to selecting his bedpartners.
This was a test, plain and simple. And the time had come to either withdraw or make bold. Was it a wise decision to pursue her? Definitely not. But it was something he absolutely had to do.
“Then…I must seduce you both…” Taking a deep breath, he leaped off the proverbial cliff. “Very well. I’ll give it my best effort.”
It was worth it, if only to see the look on her face.
“You cannot seriously be considering it?” she blurted, abandoning all pretense of cool sophistication.
The memory of Harrow kissing the music teacher replayed in his mind’s eye. Unless he was sorely mistaken, Harrow’s heart was already taken, so there was little danger of the man actually falling in love with him. He feigned confusion. “Why not?”
Her consternation gave way to a burst of incredulous laughter. “You cannot simply decide to like—” Glancing around, she lowered her voice back down to a barely audible hiss. “To like men in that way. From my understanding, such a thing is not a conscious decision. Harrow has always been attracted to both men and women.”
Lucas shrugged, ignoring the lie she’d tacked onto the end of that statement. “Is there any reason it cannot be a conscious decision?” He enjoyed watching her sputter as she searched for a rebuttal capable of holding water. When it was clear none was forthcoming, he went on. “I’m not immune to curiosity, you know, and I’m not inhibited by any particularly strong sense of morality.”
Her mouth fell open, and he saw sheer panic enter her eyes.
The same sort of panic roiled in his gut, but his gambler’s mask remained firmly in place. It’s all or nothing, now. “I daresay Harrow is quite a good-looking fellow, now I think on it,” he mused, watching her carefully. “One might even go so far as to call him handsome. And he certainly seems to like me well enough. I’m—”
“But—”
“—certainly up to the challenge. In fact, I find the whole idea rather invigorating.” Her increasingly flustered reaction further bolstered his courage. “But then, I’ve never been one to shun new experiences. And as for my reputation—”
“But—”
“—that’s already well in the gutter. Let people assume what they will. I care not. Should anyone inquire, I’ll simply deny there is anything more than friendship between us. After all—”
“But—”
