A Study In Seduction(36)

“Yes. If you are unable to solve the problem in two weeks’ time, with no help from anyone else, mind you, then you will promptly return my mother’s locket.”

Alexander continued staring at her. Her expression still contained that wicked gleam—quite appealing, if he were to be honest with himself, seeing as how it made her eyes darken to the color of a dawn sky—but other than that, she appeared utterly serious.

He looked at the problem again. “You wrote this?”

“You needn’t sneer, my lord. You know I enjoy devising puzzles, but the one you solved was just that—a puzzle. This is a problem.”

“And you don’t think I can solve it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Despite his irritation, Alexander experienced a prickle of anticipation again, a feeling aroused only by this particular woman. It was sharply pleasant, like the taste of Russian black bread, fragrant and tart.

“You implied it,” he said; “otherwise you wouldn’t have made the offer.”

“Yes, well…” Her lips curved—lovely, tempting; he wanted to put his mouth over hers and feel her yield…

“Perhaps implications aren’t so vague after all,” she said.

Alexander tossed the paper onto a table and planted his hands on his hips. Lydia Kellaway stood there looking like a little black rabbit in her charcoal dress, her blue eyes and flushed skin the only sources of color on her person.

For a fleeting, unexpected instant, he wondered what she’d look like in bright blue or green, ostrich plumes flowing from her hat, her cheeks and lips enticingly painted with rouge.

No. He didn’t like that image. At all.

He cleared his throat. “Miss Kellaway, it appears I’ve behaved unfairly with regard to your mother’s locket. And if you ever tell Sebastian I said that, I’ll deny it to the end of my days. However, you’ve made your desire for the locket quite clear, and as I’ve no wish to cause you further grief, I will return it to you immediately.”

A brief flicker of surprise crossed her face before her smile curved again. “You don’t think you can do it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You don’t think you can solve the problem.”

“I do not think that.”

“And I’ve no desire for pity, my lord.”

“I do not pity you,” Alexander snapped. “I’m trying to behave like a gentleman, which I don’t find an easy fit.”

“A gentleman conducts business in a fair and just manner.”

Alexander tried not to grind his teeth together. “Which I am attempting to do.”

“Returning my mother’s locket out of pity is neither fair nor just. However, if you wish to concede defeat, then I will gladly accept the mantle of victory and claim my winnings.”

Alexander stared at her. Then he crossed the room in three long strides and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her up against the wall so swiftly that she gasped. Without giving her an opportunity to resist, he lowered his head and captured her lush mouth, driven by a sudden burning intent to sear her with a kiss.

Her body stiffened beneath his grip, her hands fisting against his chest. He pressed harder, moving his mouth across hers, urging her to let him in. Heat swept through his blood, and though she began to soften, her closed lips did not yield, did not open for him.

A mathematical problem, for God’s sake. The only problem he wanted to solve was the soft, supple one currently in his arms.

Alexander growled with frustration. He pressed one hand against her lower back, pulling her as close as he could. His frustration mounted when his desire to feel her body was thwarted by a morass of skirts and petticoats. He darted his tongue out to lick the corner of her mouth, and when her lips parted on an indrawn breath, he delved inside with one heated stroke.

Ahhh.

A pure male satisfaction rose in him as he felt her surrender, the relaxing of her hands, the opening of her pliant lips. He cupped one hand around the back of her warm neck, angling her head for more thorough access.

Her hands spread over his chest, the warmth of her palms burning through his shirt. One of his fists clenched in her skirts as he fought the urge to drag all the damned layers up and feel her. To strip every blasted article of clothing from her and expose her sweet-scented skin and rounded breasts.

He groaned. He pressed his lower body against her, knowing she’d feel him if it weren’t for the barrier of her clothing. He grasped her wrist. Her pulse beat swift and hot beneath his fingertips as he dragged her hand down the front of his shirt lower… lower… lower…