The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (House of Renwick #2)(19)

Boldly, she answered yes in response, and her mouth opened. The intoxicating sweetness stole his breath away as he clung to her shoulders plunging his tongue further into her invitation, drinking in her sweet nectar.

“Sebastian! I know you’re in there!” Nicholas’s booming voice went hardly un-noticed.

Before Sebastian had time to react, Emma grabbed the collar of his jacket and pushed him away. Putting her hand over her mouth, she stepped back, and then as if a brilliant idea had dawned on her, she pulled him forward. Her lips briefly touched his again. A goodbye kiss or a taunt, he wasn’t sure which, and then she stepped away again just as Nicholas opened the door. By then they were separated, but looked flushed and guilty.

“Oh, hiding. I see how it is. Well, Seb, your grandmother’s scouting the room for you. If she doesn’t find you soon, I figure she’s going to report you missing, or worse, dead. I’d make an appearance if I were you.”

Nicholas turned on his heel and stomped off.

The man would have made a good spy. How was it he knew where Sebastian had run off to?

“I should go.” Emma bit her lip and pushed by him. He didn’t miss the provocative smile she sent him.

“I might kill him, you know.”

“Nicholas?” she asked.

“Yes. I do hope you’re not too attached.”

She shrugged. “I hope you can manage to keep your head straight the rest of the night. Do try to set that kiss out of your mind while the little debutantes follow you around, your grace.”

“Minx!” he yelled, watching her run off.

He couldn’t leave the closet yet. Not if his life depended on it. Thinking of his grandmother for more than two minutes seemed to set him to rights again. Though physical evidence of his desire was still apparent, he knew he would be presentable by the time he reached the crush. As he stepped around the corner he noticed a small—no, take that back—a large swarm of debutantes waiting to trap him. Yet all he could think about was the cursed kiss he had shared with Emma. The girl had ruined him, and she knew it. He couldn’t focus on stating his own name, which the little debutantes took as him being nervous and shy.

He was going to wring her pretty neck later.

Violence was obviously in the forefront of his mind along with searing passion, and God forgive the most distressing thought of Emma Gates sprawled across his bed.

It was going to be a long night.

****

Emma watched in fascination as Sebastian danced with debutante after debutante. She couldn’t seem to hide her amusement each time they made eye contact across the room. He was sending her threats through his eyes.

Of course he wouldn’t follow through. He was too much of a gentleman. A gentleman in need of seducing. She let out a shaky laugh at the thought. No, this man was not hers for the taking. But a girl could dream. She had no idea what had possessed her to kiss the man again except for an incessant need to feel his protective body close to hers. And the amusing thought that he would have trouble pushing their scandalous embrace out of his ‘angelic’ head. Selfishly, Emma could not help but be curious, and after their first kiss had been interrupted by none other than Nicholas, well she had wanted to feel his lips against hers again. Never one to pass up an opportunity, she took it, knowing fully that a man like that would never marry a woman like her, for good reason. Besides, it would be impossible to be more ruined than she already was.

And the man could kiss.

Not that she had anything to compare it to. But she could well imagine that any man’s kisses would pale in comparison.

It was unfortunate they hadn’t met in a different way or a different lifetime. If she had to marry, she would rather marry someone she could fight and joke with than some decaying old man who would most likely die of a heart attack on their wedding night.

On cue another elderly gentleman walked up to Emma and bowed.

Perfect.

He smiled, revealing a maddeningly attractive row of straight teeth. Surprisingly enough none of them appeared to be rotting.

The night was obviously taking a turn for the better!

Possibly by the last waltz she would be approached by someone who resembled an old uncle rather than an ancient grandfather.

A girl could only hope.

The man shakily grabbed his cane and nudged her in the side.

“He’s a good-looking fellow, is he not, my dear?”

“Who?” What was this man jabbering about?

“The duke, of course.”

She nodded her head trying to think of polite ways to leave Sebastian out of any conversation, lest her body give her away and start trembling with excitement.

“I know his grandmother, of course. The lady won’t give me the time of day. I live for her rejection.”

Emma laughed.

“In fact,” he continued, “I ask her to marry me every single day just to make her smile. I’m old, it doesn’t hurt my pride any to be turned down by such a delicate creature.”

Just then an elderly lady with a similar cane to the one the old man was holding began hobbling toward them.

Her regal posture told Emma she was either full of herself or used to attention. An uncomfortable look of inspection crossed her face as she glanced at Emma and then at her partner.

“Ah, Marquess Welbourne, how good of you to grace us all with your presence. I thought you’d be home nursing your broken heart.”