10
Delia watched as he walked away, her head in a whirl, her heart thudding hard in her chest, her emotions tilting from pleasure to amazement and back again.
She knew now that she had not been mistaken. That look in his eyes the other day in her office had not been her imagination or a trick of the light. It truly was desire.
“But how can that be?” she whispered, staring through the glass, watching as he vanished amid the fig trees and ferns of the hothouse. “He hates me.”
Even as she said it, she gave a delighted little shiver, remembering how he’d touched her, tracing his fingertips over her ear, caressing her neck, and she gave an incredulous laugh as she realized he didn’t hate her as much as he’d led her to believe.
But then, why hadn’t he kissed her?
Her laughter faded away as she contemplated that question.
Of course, Simon was one of those upright, straightlaced, honorable men. He was stubborn and often infuriating as hell, but he was not the sort to do anything improper. He played by the rules.
On the other hand, it wasn’t as if she were a young girl, with chaperones hovering about. There was nothing improper about kissing a widow, for heaven’s sake. She had no innocence to protect and no reputation to keep pristine. Granted, he’d tried to avoid coming to dinner by using some lame excuse about how it wasn’t appropriate because they worked together, but that was ridiculous, too. Who would know? Who would care?
He emerged from the trees again and glanced around. When he saw that she hadn’t followed him inside, he turned his head in her direction, and though she knew he couldn’t see her out here in the darkness, she could see him, stone-faced, looking as if he’d rather eat nails than kiss her.
But it was too late for that sort of pretense to fool her. Delia smiled, hugging that knowledge to herself as she straightened away from the balustrade and started for the door into the hothouse. In one unbelievable moment, they had both felt the same spark of desire. The question now was what she intended to do about it.
She considered her options as they journeyed together back to the Savoy. She could ignore the whole episode, of course, which was quite proper and horribly dull. She could shamelessly fling herself at him the next time, a much more agreeable possibility, at least until she slid a glance at him in the seat opposite. He was looking out the window, and the grim set of his profile warned her that hurling herself into his arms was a risky business. He was just as likely to toss her out of the carriage and into the street as he was to kiss her back.
Despite his desire for her, it was painfully clear he didn’t like her much. And that, she acknowledged with a grimace, was the reason he intrigued her so. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to want her, and she found that both deliciously enticing and aggravating as hell. Especially since she wasn’t sure why.
Delia took a deep breath, hoping she wasn’t about to make a complete fool of herself. “There’s three of us in this carriage, it seems.”
At the sound of her voice, he turned his head to look at her. There was a quizzical line between his brows, but other than that, his expression was unreadable in the dim light. “I beg your pardon?”
“You, me, and the elephant. You know,” she prompted when he didn’t reply, “the big, obvious elephant sitting right here between us. Maybe we should talk about it?”
His frown deepened, his expression turning wary. “I’m not sure I understand you.”
His attempt to dissemble didn’t fool her for a minute. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar?”
He looked away, but he didn’t reply.
Pressing a man on something like this was a violation of feminine decorum, no doubt, but Delia had never been one to care about things like that, and when the carriage turned into the Savoy courtyard, she tossed aside euphemisms and cut to the chase. “You wanted to kiss me,” she said. “Why didn’t you?”
He gave a laugh, a harsh sound in the closed confines of the carriage. “God, woman,” he said and looked at her again. “You can certainly be direct when you want to be.”
“I can. Can you do the same? And please,” she added as he opened his mouth to reply, “don’t give me some excuse about how we work together, and it wouldn’t be honorable.”
“It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth.”
“Perhaps, but it’s also not the real reason.”
He stirred in his seat, confirming the fact. “It’s a very large part of the reason, believe me.”
“There must be more to it than that.”
His lashes lowered, his gaze raking over her in a way that made her breath catch and her toes curl in her shoes.
“Very well, if you must know.” His voice was harsh, without a shred of romantic tenderness, and yet, by the time he looked into her eyes again, her pulse was hammering. “Kissing you would be like lighting a match in a room full of gunpowder. And explosions like that can annihilate a man.”
Her heart slammed into her ribs with enough force to steal the breath from her lungs, and it was a long moment before she could manage a reply. “Heavens,” she said, trying to make her voice offhand and lightly flirtatious, but despite her efforts, the word came out in a breathless rush. “What a delightful prospect.”
“Not for me,” he said grimly as the carriage came to a halt. “But I hope,” he added as the doorman opened the door for them, “your curiosity is now satisfied.”
“Not really,” she confessed, stepping out of the carriage and turning toward him as he followed her out of the vehicle. “I’ve never been in an explosion like that. I’d love to find out what it’s like.”
“You won’t, not from me.”
A rejection if ever there was one, but strangely, she wasn’t the least bit insulted by it. “That sounds like a dare,” she said, smiling. “And I never, ever refuse a dare.”
With that parting shot, she turned away, but behind her, she heard him mutter under his breath, “God help me now.”
She didn’t reply, but as she walked toward the entrance to the hotel, she felt a delicious little thrill of anticipation, and she laughed aloud. This was going to be fun.
This was going to be hell.
Simon followed her into the hotel, her laughter ringing in his ears, and as he studied the slim, straight line of her back, the deep dip of her waist, and the sultry swing of her hips, he couldn’t help wondering just how a man could escape a hell as delectable as that.
That he wanted her was aggravating, and the fact that she knew only made it worse. But the most damnable part of it all was that he knew she didn’t want him, not really. She just wanted the challenge of bringing him to his knees. And if he didn’t find a way to shore up his defenses, she might very well succeed.
What a humiliating thought.
He could dump her in Helen’s lap, he supposed. That would be no more than she deserved, the flirtatious devil.
His second option was to just fire her, thereby sparing everyone the bother of investigating her and spare himself the frustration of keeping her at arm’s length and pretending he was immune to her charms when they both knew damn well it was a hum.
But even as these possible solutions to his problem went through his mind, he knew neither of them were viable. As to the former, Helen had enough on her plate. She didn’t need one more burden. As to the latter, firing Delia because he found her unbearably tempting was both unfair and cowardly. And both options were an admission that he was as weak as water where she was concerned. He’d rather be tortured on the rack than make an admission like that.
No, he decided as he followed her across the lobby toward the lift, the only thing to do was keep up a wall of indifference until this Savoy business was settled and he could get clear of her.
That resolution had barely gone through his head before she came to an abrupt halt and turned to smile at him as if she’d known he was behind her the entire time.
“Why, Lord Calderon, are you following me to my room?” she asked, making the question sound every bit as naughty as the thoughts that had been going through his mind when he’d kissed her.
“No,” he corrected, his voice as firm as he could make it. “I’m going to mine.”
She sighed. “How disappointing.”
He wouldn’t have been human if the teasing glimmer in her eyes hadn’t made him smile at least a little. But when another feminine voice spoke behind him, his smile vanished.
“Darling Simon, at last!”
He knew that voice as well as he knew his own, but it wasn’t possible. He looked over his shoulder, thinking his ears were playing tricks on him, but one look at the round, laughing face, golden hair, and big brown eyes of the girl behind him, and he knew his hearing was perfectly sound.
“What the devil?” he muttered, turning to stare at her, appalled.
“Thank goodness I saw you across the lobby,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest with another laugh as Ricardo came up beside her, out of breath. “I’ve been waiting for ages, and no one seemed to know where you’d gone. And Mr. Esteban here,” she added, gesturing to the man beside her, “was terribly reluctant to give me a room.”
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Ricardo interjected. “I wasn’t sure what to do with her, to be honest. Without you here, and her being an unchaperoned young lady, it didn’t seem right to just give her a room, if you understand me. And your valet didn’t know what to do with her, either. So we decided to wait for your return so you could decide what to do. I hope that wasn’t wrong?”
“No, no,” Simon assured him at once. “You did the right thing.”
Looking relieved, Ricardo gave a nod. “Shall I have a room prepared for her?”
“Put her in a suite,” he replied. “Have a maid put her things in one of the bedrooms, and have my valet move my things into the other.”
Ricardo departed, but before Simon could return his attention to the more serious problem at hand, Delia moved forward to stand beside him, giving a little cough. “Perhaps,” she murmured to him, “you ought to introduce me to your friend?”
“She’s not my friend,” he replied with a long-suffering sigh. “She is my sister.”
“Sister?” Delia smiled, looking delighted and not at all surprised. “How lovely.”
Both women turned to him expectantly, and he was forced to give in to the inevitable. “Lady Stratham, allow me to present my sister, Cassandra. Cassie, this is the Countess of Stratham.”
“Countess?” Cassie echoed, clearly impressed. “Heavens.”
“How do you do, Miss Hayden?” Delia held out her hand. “I’m delighted to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Have you?” Cassie laughed as they shook hands. “None of it good, if the look on my brother’s face at this moment is any indication. But,” she went on before he could reenter the conversation, “I’m glad he is making friends here in London.”
“She’s not my friend, either,” he cut in, but as he spoke, he realized how rude that sounded, and he quickly added, “We work together.”
“He’s my boss,” Delia said, leaning closer to Cassie in a confidential manner that made Simon decidedly uneasy. “He’s very good at it. Being bossy, I mean.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Don’t I know it,” she agreed with feeling.
Simon was in no mood for this sort of banter. “Cassandra Jane Hayden,” he said incisively, “what in God’s name are you doing here?”
“Uh-oh,” Delia murmured. “He just used your middle name.”
Cassie nodded, grimacing. “I think I might be in serious trouble.”
“You are indeed,” he muttered, feeling decidedly grim. “Now answer my question.”
“I came to see you, of course. When you didn’t reply to my letter, I got worried.”
“Letter? What letter? The last one I received from you arrived only three days ago.”
“Three days? But it’s been a fortnight since I sent it. I waited and waited, but you never replied.”
“It must have been lost in the post then, because I only got it this past Tuesday. Either way, it doesn’t matter. How did you get here? And why are you unchaperoned? Where is Mrs. Morrisey?”
“She’s at Ivywild, of course. Don’t worry,” she added as he groaned. “I left her a note. As to how I got here, I came by train. How else? I thought—” She broke off, giving him a look of injured innocence that didn’t fool him for a second. “I thought you’d be happy to see me. Haven’t you missed me?”
Beside him, Delia made a choked sound of smothered laughter, and he shot her a warning look. She immediately pressed her lips together to hide her smile, but her eyes were still alight with mischief. “Are you in town long, Miss Hayden?” she asked, turning her attention to Cassie.
“No,” Simon put in before his sister could reply, giving the girl his sternest frown. “She is going straight back home. First thing tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s such a shame,” Delia said. “I was hoping the two of you could join me tomorrow night at the opera. I have a box at Covent Garden.”
“The opera?” Cassie echoed before he could refuse the invitation. “Oh, that would be lovely. I’ve never been to Covent Garden.”
“And she’s not going now,” Simon assured them both. “She’s going home to Berkshire with me.”
He was ignored.
“Several friends of mine are coming,” Delia went on. “One of them is a young lady about your age. I know you’ll like her. You two might even become friends. I know it can be lonely for a girl,” she added with a pointed look in Simon’s direction, “once she’s left school. It’s hard to make friends.”
Simon felt a stab of conscience, just as he suspected Delia had intended, and the look he gave her in return was wry.
“It’s Puccini,” she told him irrepressibly. “La Bohème. It’s an excellent production. I saw it when it first came to London last autumn. You really ought to see it.” She turned to Cassandra. “We can have supper here at the Savoy afterward.”
“Oh, it all sounds so wonderful,” Cassie said wistfully and turned to Simon. “Can we go?”
Simon felt compelled to point out the obvious. “You’re already in serious trouble, young lady.”
“I know,” she agreed at once. “And I’m sure there will be consequences, which I absolutely deserve. But,” she went on before he could emphatically concur, “before then, can we go to the opera with Lady Stratham? I promise I’ll be good as gold from now on.”
He knew his sister well enough to know how laughably ridiculous that promise was, but Cassie gave him no chance to say so.
“Oh, dear brother, do say yes. Please, please.”
He glanced from Cassandra to Delia and back again, any shred of stern brotherly resolve fading.
“Two peas in a pod,” he muttered, knowing he’d just lost the battle. Their radiant smiles told him that they knew it, too, and he feared that he was the one in serious trouble.