irritation was rapidly turning into anger. He wasn’t accustomed to receiving such a blatant rebuff. He determined to direct the lady’s attention his way, at which point he would turn the tables and snub her. It was only what she deserved. He brightened, intrigued by the challenge. He had never lost a battle in his life. With this in mind, he began to plan his campaign. Does the lady seek her pleasure elsewhere? When I get through with her, she’ll rue the day she ignored me.
“Lovely evening for a stroll, is it not?”
Olivia took little notice of the edge in his voice. Her head continued to turn, her eyes searching this way and that. “What? Oh yes. Lovely. Lovely indeed.”
He led her down a less-crowded path until he spied a small secluded bench. “Sit here and rest, ma’am, until you feel better.”
“Feel better? Why do you persist in thinking I feel ill?”
His lips quirked. “Well, ma’am,” he drawled, “your pretty head must be quite sore by now, it seems to me. You’ve been turning it every which way at such an alarmingly swift pace, I began to fear it was in danger of falling off your shoulders.”
Olivia stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment. Then she laughed. “You’re teasing me, sir.”
Sebastian smiled at her, a most agreeable smile. His eyes turned seductive. “Perhaps I am.” Without warning, he drew her to him and kissed her. She was stiff with resistance at first, but he persisted, one hand holding her chin so he could invade her luscious mouth, the other holding her firm until she ceased struggling. It didn’t take too long. To his astonishment, she pressed closer and returned his kiss with a passion of her own. Satisfied, he removed his lips and nibbled her ear.
“You smell like roses, ma’am. I like it.”
She forced herself to pull away, adopting anger as a weapon. “How dare you kiss me, sir! Why, we’ve only just met.”
“How else was I to engage your attention, ma’am? Can you not locate your lover? Is that who you have been searching for? Won’t I do in his stead? You gave me cause, you know, to believe that you enjoyed our kiss as much as I did.” His eyes held wicked amusement. “At the very least, my lady, I had the satisfaction of at last gaining your full attention. You’re far too lovely for me to resist, you know, in spite of those wandering eyes of yours.”
There was a sharp edge in his voice which maddened her enough to issue a tart rebuke. “I most certainly did not enjoy being mauled by you, sir!”
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I didn’t, Mr…. What did you say your name was?”
“Sebastian,” he said in a husky, sex-filled voice. “Call me Sebastian, dearest Livy.”
“I’ve not given you leave to address me thus, have I?”
“No, Livy.” He planted a kiss on her neck.
“You, sir, are impertinent.” But she didn’t stop him when his fingers traced the edge of her gown, causing goose bumps to raise her flesh.
In one swift motion, he pulled her to her feet and kissed her hard, his tongue bruising the inside of her mouth.
Shivers and thrills slithered through her body when he held her close enough to feel his erection. In a mindless haze, she ground into him, pressing closer, wanting more. One of his thumbs rubbed her breast through her gown and she moaned. He edged her bodice down and freed one nipple, teasing the nub between two fingers.
“Good God! What do you think you are you doing, sir?” She gasped when he bent to take the rigid nub into his mouth.
He backed her into a nearby tree, out of sight of curious onlookers. His lips returned to her nipple while one hand gathered her gown all the way up to her waist so his hand could gain access to the searing heat between her thighs.
“Don’t! Stop!” she breathed in an anguished moan.
He removed his mouth and looked into her glazed eyes, but his hand had already found what he was looking for. His fingers began to work their magic, an easy task, for she did not struggle. Amused, he said, “Which do you mean, my lady? Do you mean me to stop? Or do you mean don’t stop?”
But he already knew the answer, for she was wet with desire. His mouth crushed hers to muffle her screams when she climaxed. He waited for her spasms to end before he smoothed down the skirt of her gown and tucked her nipple back into her bodice. All the while, his lips rained little kisses on her ear, on her neck, on her eyes.
“Thank you for a lovely diversion, my lady. I can’t wait for our next encounter. What did you say your name was?”
Her voice shook with rage. “Who gave you leave to assault me thus? You’re an unspeakable cad! It may interest you to know that I don’t know your name either, Mr.—whatever your name is!” Without waiting for his answer, she wheeled away and stalked off.
She missed the sight of his lips curling with satisfaction. Bloody hell. She’s a temptress. The chit enjoyed our little tryst as much as I did. Hope she doesn’t have a designing mother waiting in the wings.
In a whisper, he said, “My name is Sir Sebastian Brooks, milady. You won’t forget me.” He watched her disappear in the direction of the ballroom, content in the knowledge that he had won the match. He hadn’t lost his touch after all. She’d paid attention to him in the end, hadn’t she?
Olivia reentered the ballroom through the terrace doors only to find herself facing her father, who waited with a man she had never met before.
“There you are, Livy. I’ve been searching all over for you. I want you to meet Lord Wentworth, a good friend of mine,” said her father. He turned to a middle-aged, portly gentleman, one who had already lost most of his hair. “This is my daughter, Lady Olivia Fairchild.”
Olivia bit back a groan. “Happy to meet any friend of my father’s, sir.” Her eyes darted right and left, contemplating escape.
“Your father sings your praises, ma’am. I can see with my own eyes he speaks the truth, for you are beautiful. May I engage you for this next waltz?”
Her father glared at her, his eyes pointing to the gentleman in an unmistakable gesture. “Um, I’d be delighted.” She took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the floor, but kept scanning the crowd.
At the end of their waltz, Olivia curtseyed to her partner and hurried away. She vowed to burn her father’s ears for entertaining the idea that she would welcome an offer from such a ridiculous excuse for a man. Wentworth was as old as Father was, for heaven’s sake!
Olivia had almost given up hope of finding the object of her search when she saw him chatting with two matrons not ten steps away. She cleared her throat and waited for him to turn in her direction. “Viscount Sidmouth? What a pleasant surprise. I never thought to meet you here in this mad press of people.”
“Good evening, my dear. Having a good time?” The elderly gentleman’s words were courteous, but the look in his eyes told Olivia he had no idea who she was.
She tilted her head and offered a flirtatious smile. “Meeting you, sir, has made my evening wonderfully complete.”
Flattered, the viscount eyed her with approval. “Really? How so?”
“We met last summer at Lord and Lady Marshall’s garden party, but I’m not at all sure you recall it.”
“Of course I remember you. How could I forget such a beautiful young woman who flatters me?” The viscount was a slight gentleman with only a few strands left of his hair, yet his keen brown eyes hadn’t lost their sharp intelligence.
Olivia checked her grin. The poor man hadn’t a clue. “That day last summer, my lord, when you revealed to me your secret, was the best day of my life. It changed me forever. Believe me when I say that your brilliant plan has never once left my thoughts.”
The viscount