Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(25)

“Thank you,” he said dryly.

“Therefore, purely in the interests of research…to broaden my scope of experience and so on and so forth…I thought that perhaps you might be willing to…that is, you would consider…” Sara balled her hands into fists and forced herself to finish bluntly. “That you would kiss me.”

Chapter 4

The temptation of it beckoned sweetly. Derek couldn’t control the lurid thoughts that flooded his mind. Of all the women he had known, none had ever affected him like this. In his ruthless climb out of the gutter, he had used women, for pleasure and for gain. And he had been used in turn. But the game at which he was so expert had always been understood by his partners. Sara Fielding didn’t realize what he was, and how much she had to fear from him. If it was the only decent thing he ever did, he would protect her from himself.

Carefully he reached out to her. His long fingers curved gently around her jaw, as if he were handling a precious object. Her skin was soft and fragile, like the finest silk. “Miss Fielding.” His voice was hoarse. “I’d like to do more than kiss you.” He watched as her lashes drifted downward, partially concealing her deep blue eyes. “I’d like to take you upstairs to my bed. And keep you with me until morning. But you…and me…” He shook his head, and his friendly, mocking snarl of a smile appeared. “Do your ‘research’ with Kingswood, mouse.”

He was refusing her. Sara’s cheeks turned rosy with humiliation. “I-I wasn’t asking to come to your bed,” she said tensely. “I asked for a kiss. One kiss isn’t such an earth-shattering request.”

Derek released her, the warmth of his fingers fading immediately from her skin. “For you and me, one kiss is a mistake,” he assured her, and produced a halfhearted grin. Sara didn’t return the smile. Faced with her puzzled countenance, he turned abruptly and strode away, leaving her alone in the sparkling room. His body was beginning to respond to her nearness, his loins awakening with throbbing awareness. If he stayed with her one moment longer, she would get far more than she had asked for.

Incredulously Sara watched his departure. It seemed as though he couldn’t get away from her quickly enough. Her offer had been considered and summarily dismissed. Suddenly her embarrassment changed to baffled anger. Why had he refused her? Was she so unattractive? So undesirable? At least Perry had declined her invitation for reasons of honor. Derek Craven had no such excuse!

She glanced around the opulent room. There would be dazzling, sophisticated women here tonight. Craven would dance, flirt, and ply them with seductive charm. After midnight the assembly would begin to unravel. There would be drunkenness, gallantry, merriment, scandals brewing. Sara wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t want to watch from a safe distance. She wanted to be down here tonight. She wanted to become someone else, someone brazen enough to capture the attention of Derek Craven himself.

In her novels, her characters always acted with boldness. Mathilda, especially, had been fearless. If Mathilda had wanted to go to the assembly, she would have, and damn the consequences. A sudden blast of excitement made Sara’s breath shorten. “I’ll get my kiss from you, Mr. Craven. And you’ll never even know it was I.” Terrified she might lose her nerve, Sara flew from the room. Abruptly she checked herself. It wouldn’t do to appear frantic. Busily she combed the club in search of Worthy. She finally found him at his desk, sorting through stacks of letters and receipts.

“Miss Fielding,” he said with a smile, setting his papers aside. “I was told you had decided to delay our breakfast while Mr. Craven showed you…” He paused as he saw her expression. “Miss Fielding, has something happened? You seem agitated.”

“I’m afraid I am. Mr. Worthy, I need your help!”

All at once the factotum’s face changed, taking on a grim austerity that made him seem unfamiliar. “Is it Mr. Craven? If he’s done anything to distress you—”

“Oh, no, if s not that at all. Mr. Worthy, it is imperative that I attend the assembly tonight!”

“The assembly?” the factotum asked blankly, and gave a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I thought…well, that doesn’t matter. I promise you will obtain an excellent view from the balcony—”

“I want to do more than watch. I must be there. I must get a mask from somewhere, and a gown—nothing too elaborate, but appropriate to the occasion. Could you recommend a shop, a dressmaker, someone who would be able to help me at such short notice? Perhaps I could pay to borrow a gown and then return it later, or remake one I already have—”

“Miss Fielding, you are quite overwrought,” he exclaimed. He took her hand and bestowed several fatherly pats in an attempt to settle her nerves. “You’re not yourself—”

“I have the rest of my life to be myself!” she said passionately. “For just one night I want to be someone else.”

Worthy continued to pat her hand while he regarded her with concern. His gaze was filled with un-spoken questions. He considered several approaches. “Miss Fielding,” he finally said, “you don’t understand the atmosphere at these assemblies—”

“Yes I do.”

“You wouldn’t be safe. There are men who will undoubtedly make unwelcome advances—”

“I’m aware of that. I can certainly handle a harmless tiddle here and there.”