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Oliver was looking at her. She could feel his eyes on her profile. “I wonder,” he said, “if I might have a word with
you alone, Miss Greentree?”
“Oh.” Vivianna looked at her mother. “We were just going out.”
Lady Greentree raised her brows. “Perhaps a very brief word, my lord. As my daughter says, we were just about to go out.”
“Of course, I will be as brief as possible.”
Stiff-backed, Vivianna led the way into a small parlor that was rarely used. Vivianna had chosen it, not for its lack of comfort, but for its distance from her mother’s listening ears. However, she did not shut the door.
“Vivianna,” he said gently, “why didn’t you tell me about your childhood?”
“It wasn’t important. Besides, would it have made you change your mind?”
He gave an elegant shrug.
“Then I was wise not to discuss my past with you.”
He touched her shoulder, then tried to draw her closer, but she remained rigid and unbending.
“I want to ask you something,” Vivianna said, and heard her own voice like a stranger’s. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to suggest Oliver use his expertise upon her? No, she wasn’t, Vivianna reminded herself. She was going to take what Oliver offered and enjoy herself, totally, for one night. And then…she would say goodbye to him, and mean it.
“You can ask me anything you wish.”
So reasonable! “I find I—I cannot sleep,” she said evenly, although her heart was thudding. She turned her face away. “No doubt you have performed some spell upon me that makes it so. I want to sleep peacefully again. I need you to…”
His eyes flared, and he bent his head, his breath warm on her lips. “Meet me.”
“Yes, I will meet you,” she said a little desperately. His mouth brushed hers, the kiss so light, so teasing, it was barely there. “But it will be difficult. Mama will be watching.”
As if to give credence to her concerns, Lady Greentree called out, “Vivianna! We are waiting.”
Oliver brushed her lips again, maneuvering himself so that he could see into her eyes. “I need to speak to you,” he said. “It’s important.”
She laughed a little wildly. “I need more than words, Oliver. It is my belief that a woman should live her life as she sees fit, and not be forced into marrying a man simply because she wishes to have him in her bed. Men are not governed by such things, so why should women be? I have never had a man in my bed and now I find I am very curious as to what happens in such situations. I am…attracted to you. I would like it to be you who…”
Oliver blinked. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, then I accept.”
Vivianna eyed him uncertainly, but he seemed sincere. She stated her terms. “For a single night. Just one night with an experienced rake, Oliver, that is all I require. I will not be your kept woman or your soiled dove. Nothing of that nature. It will be a night of passion, both of us free and untrammeled by the rules of society, and then we will separate with only our memories.”
“I have told you I accept.” He looked almost relieved, and the idea that he would not argue or resist, or plead for longer, hurt her. But Vivianna said nothing—she had made the rules, after all. It would be ungracious of her to now argue against them….
“I don’t want you to agree to something you later regret,” she burst out, and couldn’t seem to help it.
“Vivianna,” he groaned. “How can I regret it? I’ve wanted you ever since I met you. I’m hardly likely to refuse.”
“Oh.”
Deliberately he bent his head and took her mouth with his. It was the kiss of a desperate man, but it made clear its message. When he had finished, Vivianna was breathless and weak.
“Oh yes,” he said grimly, “I want you.”
“Wherever, whenever?”
“Vivianna!” Lady Greentree’s voice was anxious. In a moment she would come and fetch her.
He smiled. “Yes.”
