Page 55 of Sinfully Wed
Now, standing before her in Whitehall’s drawing room, Jordan realized how incredibly stupid that assumption had been. It was Odessa he craved for some inexplicable reason. Leaning forward, Jordan purposefully made a show of sniffing the air just to annoy her.
Odessa’s willowy form arched towards him; a deep breath exhaled through her plump lips and pushed her delicate breasts up along the modest neckline of her dress.
Had Miss Maplehurst not been a few feet away, Jordan might have well buried his head between the valley so temptingly thrust out at him.
Odd, strange, lovely creature.
The air in the room snapped between them, drawing them closer until he and Odessa were mere inches apart. Why had he waited so long to come to her? He wanted to hear those soft noises of arousal she’d made in the alcove once more. Suck and nibble at her mouth. Most of all, Jordan wanted Odessa naked and laid out before him like a feast.
Desire was a tricky thing. It could be caused by nothing more than the shape of a woman’s ear. Or the sight of her ankle. He could not have said exactlywhyOdessa Whitehall aroused him, only that she did. There had been that tiny shock at their first meeting when she appeared to be nothing more than a smelly troll. And when Jordan had seen her on Bond Street—
Miss Maplehurst cleared her throat.
Or possibly it was because now, Jordan knew he wouldn’t have to wed Odessa if there was coal at Dunnings. There would be no debating whether he should bed her to consummate their marriage. He didn’t have to bed her at all. Which made Odessa that much more enticing.
Jordan’s fingers twitched against his thighs.
“How lovely of you to call, my lord.” Odessa possessed a lovely voice; the sound of it flowed softly over his skin.
“I thought I’d escort you to Gunter’s for an ice.” It was the only excuse Jordan could think of to be alone with Odessa, something he greatly desired. Gunter’s was one of the few places a gentleman might escort a young lady without causing undue talk, though the news of his betrothal to Odessa Whitehall had escaped at Lady Curchon’s.
Captain Phillips, in addition to having arms no bigger than a pin, was a gossip.
Jordan neither confirmed nor denied the rumors making the rounds. No official announcement of a betrothal had been made. He had spent several nights considering the look on Whitehall’s face when the debt was paid in full. Possibly Jordan should take Odessa’s virtue before jilting her.
Nowthatwould really show the dirty sharker.
“Gunter’s,” Odessa said blithely. Her delicious bottom lip jutted out just a bit. She hadn’t expected to be escorted for an ice.
“The carriage top will be down.” He looked to Odessa’s aunt. “You are welcome to join us, Miss Maplehurst. I will defer to your wishes.”
The older woman waved him off with a smile. “I think you entirely trustworthy, my lord. And you are to be wed. I see no harm.” Her gaze lingered far too long at the hem of Jordan’s coat, obviously studying his thighs.
Jordan had come to like Miss Maplehurst, though he often feared for his own virtue in her presence. She had been terribly kind to Tamsin at Lady Curchon’s, and the two had struck up a friendship.
Leading Odessa out to the waiting carriage, Jordan felt her hesitation as she reached the bottom step. “I thought you said your carriage would have the top down for propriety’s sake.”
Jordan helped her inside. “Did I? I may have misspoken.”
Odessa allowed herself to be helped inside, a look of trepidation on her features as she turned to face the window. Her fingers clasped and unclasped themselves in her lap, tugging at the folds of her skirts. A tendril of honey blonde hair fell along one cheek, the curl spiraling to dangle near her chin.
Jordan wanted to sink his fingers into that heavy mass. Pull the curls free of pins. Spread them over his chest and lap—
Desire.Such an untamed emotion. He shouldn’t want her so badly, yet he did. Taking revenge on Whitehall had nothing to do with it.
“We aren’t going to Gunter’s, are we?” The stormy eyes rose to his.
“No.”
“What would you have done if my aunt decided to come along?”
“Then wewouldhave gone to Gunter’s. You would have availed yourself of an unappetizing ice, as would I. Miss Maplehurst might possibly have made an impolite comment about the cut of my trousers.”
“Entirely true,” she said without embarrassment. “My aunt is blunt about a great many things. Admiration of your person, for instance.”
One of the things Jordan liked about Odessa, and he reluctantly admitted, now that the yoke Whitehall put around his neck didn’t choke nearly so much, was hedidlike her. Odessa was clever in a way many women were not. Witty. She fairly sparkled with intelligence.
“You wish privacy to castigate me,” Odessa informed him. “Or possibly you’ll drive by the Thames and merely toss me into the waters. I wouldn’t survive the shock of the cold. And I don’t swim, but even if I did, my skirts would drag me down. I’d choke on all that filth. But the Thames often has a body or two floating about. No one would notice one more.”
