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“I am trying to make you understand that—”
He groaned. “There’s only one way to stop you, isn’t there?”
She blinked. “Is there?”
Her skin was like cream, her pupils were dark, her lips soft and sinful. Oliver took her shoulders firmly in his hands, leaned in, and kissed her. Desire reared up, struggling to break free, but he held it on a firm rein. “This is why I came,” he said, plundering her mouth again. “And this….”
After her initial surprise, Vivianna kissed him back. She even went so far as to wrap her arms about his neck and cling on.
“I don’t trust you,” he ranted. “Not for a minute.”
“Then why—”
“Stop talking.” He sent his tongue exploring the warm depths of her mouth. And damn her if she didn’t return the favor, mimicking him, unashamedly enjoying herself. Just to be sure he wasn’t imagining it, Oliver drew her tongue into his mouth and sucked on it. She did the same with his, turning his body to hot, rigid steel.
He clasped her bottom through the thickness of skirt and petticoats and drew her up on her toes, then pressed her hard against the place that most needed it. He could imagine making love to her and doubted he would survive the experience.
Oliver groaned into her mouth and then almost wept as she arched herself against him, a living candle in his arms. That was when Oliver knew he couldn’t hold on to that rein much longer; in another heartbeat the horse would have bolted.
Someone cleared her throat.
Vivianna took a breath, and then another. Every part of her protested, but she pulled away and stood, dazed, looking about her. It was as if she were waking from a dream.
“Miss!”
Lil was standing, shocked, in the doorway. Vivianna realized then how dangerously close she had come once more to allowing Oliver to have his way with her. She could feel the blood in her face, and the beginnings of panic, but she held herself in check. Her voice, when she spoke, was as close to normal as she could manage under the circumstances.
“Lil, Lord Montegomery is just leaving. Can you show him to the door?”
“Yes, miss.” Lil sounded flat and cold.
“My hat and cane.” Oliver was watching her, his eyes full of the wry humor that was pulling at his lips. As if it were all a jest to him. But was it? Was she just another conquest? The idea should have appalled her, but it did not—instead Oliver intrigued her. When he had kissed her so thoroughly, there had been a moment when she could have pulled away and slapped his face, but she hadn’t. Instead she’d kissed him back, because she was curious and because it was what she wanted to do.
“Goodbye, my lord,” she said, and stayed exactly where she was.
Vivianna straightened her shoulders and waited for Lil’s return like a soldier who has been found wanting and is about to face a commanding officer. The comparison made her smile.
“I’m glad you’re amused, miss,” Lil said, and Vivianna could see the anger jumping under her skin, making her eyes water. “I’m glad you think it’s funny. That man…I warned you, I did. He’s after you, miss. He had his hands all over you and I—I could see it in his face. He’s after you, and he’ll not stop. Not until he has what he wants.”
Vivianna let her finish. “Lil, I know you are concerned for me, but really, I can look after myself.”
Lil shook her head back and forth several times. “Oh, miss, you know nothing about men like that. He’ll hurt you, he’ll destroy you. He can make it so that no decent person in England will be in the same room as you! Do you want your name ruined?”
“I don’t see why—”
“Course you do, you just don’t want to admit it. You think you won’t care, but you will. Oh, you will. Miss, please, stay away from him.”
Vivianna walked past her to the door. “I will take care, Lil, I promise, but I will not stay away from Lord Montegomery. He is the key to saving the shelter, and I will not be frightened off just because he kissed me…once or twice.”
Lil groaned.
“Actually”—and Vivianna turned and met her stare defiantly—“I enjoyed it.”
And she marched back upstairs, leaving a muttering Lil to follow.
Chapter 4
Miss Greta and Miss Susan Beatty were like a pair of cage birds, fluffy and petite, with bright eyes and gentle voices—but they had characters of pure steel. When Vivianna had first met them in York, she had been aware of an unconscious urge to smile at their seemingly sweet naïveté—what could two middle-aged, middle-class spinsters know of the world, after all?
