Page 27 of In the Prince's Bed
Mama went on babbling about her daughter’s excellent riding and other accomplishments, but Katherine paid no attention. Why had he given a perfectly ordinary word like “take” such a wicked intonation? How did he manage to imbue every word with a naughtier meaning? And that possessive way he stared at her, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her again…
A delicious shock of excitement trilled along her nerves, and she scowled. He said and did these things to provoke her. Or seduce her.
Goodness knew he looked handsome enough to tempt any woman, especially in that azure coat that made his eyes glitter lake blue in the sunny parlor. And those buckskin riding breeches and military long boots…must they fit him so well, lovingly outlining every well-wrought muscle in his—
Yanking her gaze back to his face, she found him watching her with thinly veiled satisfaction. When he had the audacity to wink at her as her mother chattered on, she couldn’t prevent a blush.
This was a dangerous game she played, spending time with a rascal merely to entice the man she wanted. She’d always disapproved of girls who engaged in such antics, but she couldn’t deny the effectiveness. Sydney had never before been so determined to have her company.
And she’d turned him down. He’d looked so stricken, poor thing, when she’d refused to go to his reading. A hollow fear settled in her belly. Had she gone too far? Might she lose Sydney entirely if she persisted?
She just couldn’t.
“Mama,” she broke in, “I left my pink shawl upstairs. Would you fetch it?”
“Of course, dear heart. Can’t have you catching a chill, can we?”
Alec went on alert the instant Katherine banished her mother. He’d already guessed something was up with his wily wife-to-be, but now he suspected he knew what it was. So he wasn’t surprised when she faced him as soon as her mother left, and said, “Instead of riding in St. James’s Park, might we ride over to—”
“No.”
She gaped at him. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“You were going to ask if we could ride over to attend Lovelace’s reading. And the answer is no.”
With typical forthrightness, she didn’t attempt to deny it. “But we could ride in the park afterward. And the Freeman Assembly Rooms are only a mile away.”
“I don’t care how close they are. We’re not going there.”
She glared at him. “Why not?”
Because he remembered how she’d looked a few moments ago—wearing her heart on her sleeve while that ass Lovelace begged her to go with him. And because the odd disquiet surging through Alec at the sight was as unwelcome as it was unfamiliar. “You agreed to spend the afternoon with me, not him. And I mean to have my afternoon.”
His leashed temper must have shown in his face, for she swallowed. “We’re supposed to make Sydney jealous, and he can only get jealous if he sees us together.”
“He saw us here together, and he knows we’re going riding together.” He flashed her a taunting smile. “I’m sure his imagination will do the rest.”
The willful wench set her shoulders stubbornly. “This scheme was meant to help me snag Sydney. But if you’re going to turn it into some sort of competition, then I’ll end it now.”
He stepped closer. She was bluffing. Nothing had changed between her and Sydney last night, or she wouldn’t have chosen Alec over her inattentive suitor today. Surely she realized that if she abandoned the scheme too early, her blasted Sydney would return to his old ways.
But did he dare risk that she wasn’t bluffing? When he could just as easily turn this to his advantage?
A slow smile curved up his lips. “All right, we’ll go to your precious poet’s reading. But if I have to endure a drafty hall and bad verse, you have to promise me some reward for it.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “What sort of reward?”
With a glance toward the open doorway, he lowered his voice. “A kiss.”
Her breath quickened as she dropped her gaze. “We agreed to no kissing.”
“We also agreed to no discussion of Sydney, yet you expect me to spend the afternoon watching you swoon over his verse.”
“I do not swoon,” she said with a petulant frown.
“That will make the afternoon only marginally better. So what’s it to be? A kiss in exchange for the poetry reading? Or no kiss and a pleasant afternoon’s ride through St. James’s Park?”
He could see her weighing her options, but he suspected she would choose the kiss. This reading was clearly important to Lovelace—she wouldn’t risk alienating him, thank God.
