Page 17 of Wicked Again
“I wasn’t aware I’d asked you to dally with me again.” A wrinkle appeared between the dark brows as his fingers continued to drum on the chair. “As alluring as I find you to be.” His gaze briefly dropped to her breasts.
Marissa opened her mouth and then closed it, unsure how to respond.
“Your objections to continuing ourdalliance, for your own reasons,” he waved his hand, “areexhausting. I will bow to yoursuperiorwisdom in these matters.”
“You will?” It appeared the pretty speech she’d prepared to refuse him wouldn’t be needed.
“Of course, Marissa. Forgive me for being blunt, but I’ve no desire to pursue adalliancewith a woman who has been clear she doesn’t want one. I didn’t come here today to talk you into bed with me again.” He shrugged. “Ancienthistory, as I said.” His silver eyes gleamed.
Well, that stung a bit. More than she’d thought it would.
Haddon smiled at her, the small grooves around his eyes crinkling, making him even more handsome, if that were possible. “Perhaps I merely require your decorating acumen.” He looked around the drawing room. “You’ve amazing taste. This room is beautiful and a lovely color. I like the floral arrangements.” A large hand waved casually at a vase full of artfully arranged fresh flowers. “Your butler or a maid must be very talented.”
“I arrange my own vases. A hobby of mine. But I doubt you are here to ask me about flowers or draperies.”
“No, indeed. I find I am in need of your expertise in another area.”
“My expertise?” She reached for her cup of tea. It had gone cold, but she needed to do something with her hands.
“While I wasrelievingyourboredomat Pendleton’s house party,” his lips twisted into a mischievous smile, “you mentioned you might help Jordana one day if I brought her to London. I’m here to see if your offer is still good. I find myself in rather dire straits in regard to my daughter.”
Marissa’s hand froze, her teacup hovering just inches from her lips. Shehadoffered to help with Jordana, though to be fair, he’d been kissing his way across her breasts at the time. “I must have forgotten.”
Haddon cast a lingering gaze at her bosom before his eyes returned to her face. There was no doubt he remembered the moment as well. “Forgetfulness is often a sign ofadvancedage.”
Marissa sipped at the tepid tea, determined to ignore his baiting.
“Anexperiencedwoman, such as yourself, could help prepare Jordana to make her debut. She’s awkward in society as unaccustomed as she is to it. Mrs. Divet has done her best, but I fear Jordana is in need of a firmer hand. And it would only be until my sister arrives.”
Mrs. Divet and her husband were close friends of Haddon’s and Mrs. Divet had taken over the role of aunt to his four girls. The woman was lovely, but Mrs. Divet was not out in society herself. She and her husband traveled much of the time.
“I see.”
Helping Jordana would mean Marissa would be in Haddon’s orbit for the better part of several months, being tempted by him.
It wasn’t a good idea. Not in the least. And she already had several projects to keep her busy.
Haddon’s fingers drummed again. “I would bedeeplygrateful.”
Marissa’s eyes followed the movement of his fingers. He’d moved them along her skin in the same way as they lay naked together, speaking quietly of their lives. Haddon had told her of his late wife. His daughters. He’d praised her for not only raising her two sons alone, but also her niece and nephew. None of her other lovers had ever expressed the slightest interest in Marissa’s family or the struggles she’d endured. It was unusual for a gentleman to notice such a thing.
Yet, Haddon, casual dalliance that he was,had.
Her heart contracted, then stretched in his direction.Damn it.She wasn’t going to be able to refuse him. Not with Jordana. Possibly not in anything. It was very worrisome.
“Whatiswrong with you, Marissa? I grow concerned that you are ill. You behaved oddly at the Cambourne ball as well.”
“Headaches,” she announced. “I’ve been cursed with them.”
“Ah, that explains the flush to your cheeks.” She doubted Haddon was fooled. She suspected he was well aware of his effect on her despite her attempts to keep her feelings hidden. “It means so much to me, Marissa. Your help with Jordana.”
A light exotic aroma reminiscent of a bag of spices her nephew had once gifted her drifted into her nostrils as Haddon leaned toward Marissa, taking her hand in his larger one. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, her pulse jumping at his touch.
Why must he smell so luscious? Why couldn’t he smell of pomade and talc? It would make things so much easier.
One finger trailed along the inside of her palm.
