One Night With You (The Derrings #3)(9)

"Don't," she pleaded, her breath mingling with his, washing through him and thickening the blood in his veins. "Please."

Stepping back, he dragged a hand through his hair. He didn't know what aggravated him more—

his irrational desire for a woman he had just met, a veritable stranger, or the fact that he had convinced himself that she could want him, that she could overlook his fierce countenance. He gestured for her to pass.

She lowered her eyes and slid past him, the scent of apples rushing up to meet him. Apples. Memories assailed him. Sweet memories. Before Julianne's accident. Before Madeline. This woman smelled of home.

The instinct to stop her, to seize and possess her, warred intensely inside him. She was halfway across the room when the door flung open. A man ambled into the room with a glass in his hand.

"Ah, there you are, my dear. I have your punch."

She stopped abruptly.

Something dark and possessive coiled in Seth's gut as the fop advanced on her. She shuffled backward until she collided with Seth's chest. His hands came up to close over the warm flesh of her arms. She glanced over her shoulder, her look one of surprise, as though she had forgotten his presence at the other man's arrival.

Seth eyed the other man, vague recognition stirring in the back of his mind. The fellow returned his stare. "Rutledge? By God, is that you?" Seth gave a nod of greeting, recalling the man's name. "Billings."

"Heard you'd taken up the title. Didn't realize you were in Town, though." Billings stepped closer, peering closely at his face. "Ack, get that fighting in Canton, did you? Hard luck, that. You were always a favorite with the ladies."

"Slave smugglers," he replied, the point a matter of distinction for him. Taking a scar to impede the illegal trafficking of slaves was infinitely more honorable than taking a scar to enslave a nation to opium.

Billings nodded briskly. "Suppose I should congratulate you then, Lord St. Claire."

"Congratulate me? On my brother's death?" he bit out, suddenly recollecting what a bloody ass Billings had been. He and Albert had been in the same class at school, but Billings had been sulky, always voicing his discontent over his second son status.

Oblivious to any offense he may have given, Billings continued. "Lost my own brother not long ago."

"Sorry to hear that." Seth looked down at the woman who suddenly grew rigid as wood in his hands.

"I wasn't so lucky as you," Billings droned on. "My brother left an heir. Only one, though, so perhaps I'm not without hope."

Seth stared at the weasel before him. Such jackasses abounded among the ton, making him wish he still fought on distant shores.

Billings glanced at the drink in his hand. As though suddenly remembering his purpose, his gaze shot back to Aurora.

"Pardon me, did not mean to detain you with idle chatter. Especially with so much more pleasant activities available." Billings moistened his nearly nonexistent lips. "I'll just collect this little tart and be on my way. We'll find another room."

Aurora drove back another step, heedless that she trod over Seth's foot. Without thinking, Seth flexed his hand around her arm and announced, "I'm afraid not. The lady is unavailable."

"Now see here, Rutledge," Billings blustered, puffing out his chest. "I found her first." Seth cocked a brow. "And you've lost her."

With a decided amount of force, Billings set the drink down on a marble-topped end table, sending the contents sloshing over the rim. "Fine. There are plenty of other light-skirts about to frig. No need to get proprietary."

Even as he uttered the words, he scoured Aurora with a hungry leer.

Seth stroked her arm in lazy circles, and she shivered.

Quivering with anger, Billings bit out, "Enjoy yourself, Rutledge. I'm sure I'll get another go at her when you're finished."

She flinched in his arms.

A growl rose up from the back of his throat. "I don't think so," Seth grated, wondering at the sudden and fierce protectiveness that surged through him.

With a flare of his nostrils, Billings stormed from the room. The door slammed shut behind him. And they were alone again.

"I take it he was the reason you were contemplating escape through the window?" She whirled around, her eyes flashing. "I'm no light-skirt!"

"I never said you were," he countered.

She pressed her lips into a mutinous line. "But I'm here. At this ball." She waved a hand. "I'm sure that's what you judge me to be."

"And why should it matter so much what I think?"

She stared at him for a long moment before a nervous laugh escaped her. It was a wholly uncalculated sound that sent a lick of heat spiraling through his stomach. Which was insanity. He was waiting for Fleur to join him, yet he could not stop himself from thinking of ways to seduce the tantalizing creature before him.

"It doesn't, of course." Her chin went up another notch.

She edged back another step, reminding him of an exotic bird, ready to take flight. He sensed he had her for only a moment more. And for some reason, he found the notion intolerable. Stepping forward, he grazed his knuckles over her cheek. Her eyes widened, but she did not pull back.

Watching her closely, gauging her expression in the event distaste should emerge at last, he trailed his fingers down her neck, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. Dipping his head, he tasted the warm skin of her throat, his tongue licking at the wildly thrumming pulse point, spiced rum against his tongue.