It Happened One Autumn (Wallflowers #2)(91)

“I don’t know.” She reached into the hidden pocket of her gown, concealed in the deep folds of her skirts, and found the vial of perfume. “Here.”

“What is it?” Receiving the vial, Marcus opened it and inhaled the scent. “Perfume,” he said, his gaze questioning as it returned to her face.

“Not just any perfume,” Lillian replied apprehensively. “It’s the reason you were first attracted to me.”

He sniffed it again. “Oh?”

“I purchased it from an old perfumer in London. It’s an aphrodisiac.”

Sudden laughter flickered in his eyes. “Where did you learn that word?”

“From Annabelle. And it’s true,” Lillian told him earnestly, “it really is one. It has a special ingredient that the perfumer told me would attract a suitor.”

“What special ingredient?”

“He wouldn’t tell me what it was. But it worked. Don’t laugh, it did! I noticed its effect on you the day that we played rounders, when you kissed me behind the hedgerow. Don’t you remember?”

Marcus seemed entertained by the notion, but it was clear that he did not believe that he had been seduced by a perfume. He passed it beneath his nose again, and murmured, “I remember having noticed the scent. But I was attracted to you for many other reasons long before that day.”

“Liar,” she accused. “You hated me.”

He shook his head. “I never hated you. I was bothered, plagued, and tormented by you, but that’s not at all the same thing.”

“The perfume works,” she insisted. “Not only did you respond to it, but Annabelle tried it on her husband—and she swears that he kept her up all night as a result.”

“Sweetheart,” Marcus said wryly, “Hunt has behaved like a boar in rut around Annabelle since the first day they met. It’s typical behavior for him, where she is concerned.”

“But it wasn’t typical behavior for you! You had absolutely no interest in me until I wore this scent, and the first time you got a whiff of it—”

“Are you claiming,” he interrupted, his eyes like black velvet, “that I would have a similar reaction to any woman who wears it?”

Lillian opened her mouth to reply, then closed it abruptly as she recalled that he hadn’t displayed any interest when the other wallflowers had tried it. “No,” she admitted. “But it does seem to make quite a bit of difference with me.”

A slow smile curved his lips. “Lillian, I’ve wanted you every moment since I first held you in my arms. And it has nothing to do with your damned perfume. However”—he inhaled the scent one last time before replacing the tiny stopper—“I do know what the secret ingredient is.”

Lillian stared at him with wide eyes. “You do not!”

“I do,” he said smugly.

“What a know-all,” Lillian exclaimed with laughing annoyance. “Perhaps you’re guessing at it, but I assure you that if I can’t figure out what it is, you certainly couldn’t—”

“I know conclusively what it is,” he informed her.

“Tell me, then.”

“No. I think I’ll let you discover it on your own.”

“Tell me!” She pounced on him eagerly, thumping him hard on the chest with her fists. Most men would have been driven back by the solid blows, but he only laughed and held his ground. “Westcliff, if you don’t tell me this instant, I’ll—”

“Torture me? Sorry, that won’t work. I’m too accustomed to it by now.” Lifting her with shocking ease, he tossed her onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. Before she could move an inch, he was on top of her, purring and laughing as she wrestled him with all her might.

“I’ll make you give in!” She hooked a leg around his and shoved hard at his left shoulder. The childhood years of fighting with her boisterous brothers had taught her a few tricks. However, Marcus countered every move easily, his body a mass of steely, flexing muscles. He was very agile, and surprisingly heavy. “You’re no challenge at all,” he teased, allowing her to roll atop him briefly. As she sought to pin him, he twisted and levered himself over her once more. “Don’t say that’s your best effort?”

“Cocky bastard,” Lillian muttered, renewing her efforts. “I could win…if I didn’t have a gown on…”

“Your wish may yet be granted,” he replied, smiling down at her. After another few moments, he held her down on the mattress, taking care not to hurt her in their love play. “That’s enough,” he said. “You’re tiring. We’ll call it an even match.”

“Not yet,” she panted, still determined to best him.

“For God’s sake, you little savage,” he said in amusement, “it’s time to give up.”

“Never!” She strained wildly against him, her weary arms trembling.

“Relax,” came his caressing murmur, and her eyes widened as she felt the hardness of his body between her thighs. She gasped, her struggles fading. “Softly, now…” He pulled the front of her gown down, momentarily trapping her arms. “Easy,” he whispered.

Lillian went still, her blood pumping violently as she stared up at him. The light was uncertain in this part of the room, the bed swathed in shadow. Marcus’s dark form moved over hers, his hands turning her this way and that as he eased the gown from her body, and unhooked her corset. And then suddenly she was breathing, breathing, too loudly, too fast, and the soothing stroke of his palm down the front of her body only agitated her further.