A Passion for Pleasure(47)
Chapter Eight
Moonlight shone gray and pallid through the fog. Sebastian dragged his fingers across the piano keys, the resulting cacophony echoing the restless pulse of his blood. Colors tumbled together, as if they were spinning inside a storm. He slammed both hands down on the keys with a crash. A cramp knotted the fingers of his right hand. He shoved away from the piano, then paced to the hearth.
A mistake. The whole bloody thing was a mistake—his reckless capitulation to his father’s demand, his agreement to help Darius, his acceptance of Clara’s proposal, which had seemed so practical at the time and was swiftly becoming fraught with more complications than he could bear.
The most prominent being that he wanted to kill Fairfax himself.
A brittle fiber of levelheadedness, one that would have made Darius proud, had prevented Sebastian from attacking the baron and forcing his surrender to Clara’s pleas. He knew they required an advantage before Fairfax would agree to speak to them—and even then, Sebastian doubted the man’s willingness to negotiate.
Didn’t appear likely, given Fairfax’s reaction to seeing Clara.
Bastard.
Breath billowed from Sebastian’s lungs as if someone had punched him in the gut.
The front bell rang, bringing his attention to the clock. Nearly seven o’clock. He waved off one of the footmen, then went to the door and opened it. The folds of a hood shadowed Clara’s features, but could not conceal the resolve burning in her violet eyes. Unease lanced through Sebastian as he glanced behind her to the black cab waiting at the curb.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Uncle Granville finished the copies just after dinner,” Clara said. Her voice shook, a shiver of pale blue-gold.
Sebastian pulled a hand down his face as a curse ruptured his thoughts. Emotions flared in him—anticipation, relief, disquiet, pleasure. Fear.
“Where is your uncle now?” he asked.
“At home. He’d planned to deliver the plans to you tomorrow. I hadn’t told him you need them tonight.”
“Did you come here alone?” Sebastian yanked open the door and ushered her in.
Clara stepped into the foyer. With a trembling hand, she brushed her hood back from her head. The folds cascaded into a puddle around her long, slender neck, drawing Sebastian’s gaze to the hollow of her throat. The sight of her pale skin roused his lust, which he had fought to keep contained since their encounter in his carriage yesterday.
Arousal coiled through his lower body. Heated memories swept his mind in flashes of color—the hot cavern of Clara’s mouth, the delicious press of her thighs against his aching erection, the tight way she’d locked her legs around him and clung as if she would never let go, as if she belonged to him and him alone…
Christ. Heaviness settled low in his groin. Although he knew he’d done the right thing in putting a stop to matters, he bitterly regretted the circumstances that had forced him to take such measures.
Because God knew he wanted her. Not even the restless sting of half-sleep could smother the desire that burned him during the night, the hot imaginings twisting through his mind of Clara splayed beneath him with her hands gripping his naked back and her gasps hot against his ear.
With every breath, he wanted her more.
And he would have her. One day soon, he would have her until the earth fell away beneath them.
Sebastian swallowed, his agitation tempered by the knowledge that they now had an agreement. If he thought it a mistake, he could not retreat now, even if he wanted to. And with Clara standing in front of him, the folds of her cloak draping over her slender curves, her unpainted lips full and parted, a pulse tapping in her lovely throat…Sebastian knew he would sell his soul to the devil if it meant having her as his wife.
She watched him warily. “Do you still intend to meet with Darius?”
“Yes.”
“And give him the plans?”
“Yes.”
“Then you won’t…”
“I have no intention of reneging on our agreement.”
Her throat rippled with a swallow. “What about your father?”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “He has approved of our engagement and no doubt learned whatever he could about you and your father from the members of his club. We owe him no further information.” He forced his fingers to unclench from the doorjamb. “I will return you to the museum before meeting with Darius.”