Karen Robards - Desire in the Sun

The stranger inclined his head politely. "Jocelyn San Pietro, entirely at your service, sir. But my friends call me Joss." His eyes slid back to rest on Lilah's face as he said this last, and she realized that he was blatantly flirting with her. Despite her lingering embarrassment, the very outrageousness of his conduct appealed to her. All the men she had known so far in her life had treated her most deferentially, as if she were a glittering prize to be won. This fellow with his handsome face and bold grin was not at all intimidated by her, and she found that she liked him for it. But he was still holding her hand, and that was beyond the bounds of what was permissible. She tugged discreetly. He looked down with a fleeting expression of regret, but let her go.

"How do you do, Mr. San Pietro? I am Lilah Remy. And this is Michael Calvert." Lilah turned a commanding eye on Mr. Calvert, who sulkily inclined his head.

"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Remy." The formal phrase took on a whole new aspect when accompanied by a meaningful glance from those bold green eyes. He completely ignored Mr. Calvert, who bristled. To her surprise Lilah felt herself growing pleasantly flustered. Ordinarily she was totally in command of herself when talking to gentlemen. After all, she had been much courted and admired for as long as she could remember. But this man was something beyond her ken. At the realization she felt a tingling little sense of excitement spring to life inside her.

"What is your business at Boxhill? You can't have been invited to the party," Mr. Calvert said sharply, his eyes narrowing as they moved between the other man and Lilah. "It was for close friends and neighbors only. And I've never seen you before in my life."

"Are you the new owner of Boxhill?" Mr. San Pietro inquired with a well-feigned expression of surprise. Mr. Calvert, glowering, shook his head. "Ah, then I have not come in vain. My business is with George Barton, and none other."

"Perhaps I could take you to him? He is my uncle- well, really his wife is my great-aunt," Lilah said.

"Indeed?" Mr. San Pietro's smile was charming. "Perhaps you can take me to him-later. For the moment, I am quite happy to let my business wait."

"Lilah, you know nothing about this man! You have no business talking to him! You haven't even been properly introduced! He could be anyone-a bounder! He could even intend Mr. Barton some sort of harm!"

Mr. Calvert's furious whisper caused Lilah to turn angry eyes on him. But Mr. San Pietro, obviously overhearing as he could hardly fail to, forestalled her. The charming grin vanished, and a sudden aura of power seemed to emanate from him as he fixed Mr. Calvert with hard eyes.

"Watch yourself, stripling, or you'll soon be sitting on your backside again." There was cool warning in the eyes that rested on Mr. Calvert's face. Looking from one to the other, Lilah suddenly became aware of the marked contrasts between the men. Jocelyn San Pietro stood a good inch or two over six feet. Broad-shouldered and well-muscled, he was nearly half again the size of the tall but reed-thin Mr. Calvert, and had the look of a man well able to take care of himself in the face of difficulties. Mr. Calvert looked to be exactly what he was, the pampered scion of a prominent family who had never turned his hand to a day's work in his life. Mr. San Pietro had to be nearly thirty. Mr. Calvert could not yet lay claim to twenty. In any sort of physical confrontation between them, Lilah had not the tiniest doubt of who would be the loser. Mr. Calvert, apparently coming to that same conclusion himself, was silent, though he glowered at his rival with fierce resentment.

Hercules yapped again, this time at a couple emerging from the rose garden. The hand-holding pair looked in their direction and immediately dropped hands, putting a circumspect distance between them as they disappeared around the side of the house in the direction of the front entrance. Lilah was reminded of her surroundings, and the party going on within. As reluctant as she was to share Mr. San Pietro with the rest of the company, she really had no choice but to take him inside. Amanda would undoubtedly come looking for her soon if she delayed much longer. And Amanda would scold…

"Hush, Hercules! Perhaps we should go in? When you are ready to talk to my uncle, you have only to tell me, Mr. San Pietro, and I will be glad to fetch him for you. In the meantime, there is a refreshment table, and the musicians are quite good."

"It sounds more than delightful." He was smiling again, his eyes on her face. To her utter amazement Lilah felt her heartbeat quicken. "I must admit to being a trifle sharp-set. I missed dinner to ride out here."

"We can certainly remedy that!" Her answering smile was gay. She felt giddy, like a young, foolish girl, and decided that she quite liked the sensation.

"Shall we go in, then?" He offered her his arm with that blazing smile, his eyes telling her that he found her every bit as interesting as she found him. Which was only to be expected, of course. Lilah was quite aware of the effect of her own beauty, and was not above shamelessly exploiting it to the best advantage. The majority of males from ages ten to ninety who beheld her porcelain-perfect features and fine-boned, gracefully curved body were smitten on the spot. But this was the first time she had felt more than the mildest attraction of her own in return, and she was discovering that it made all the difference in the world.

"Certainly." She placed her hand in the proffered crook of his arm, completely ignoring Mr. Calvert's sharply indrawn breath. As her fingers curled over the canvaslike cloth, she became tinglingly conscious of the hard strength of the muscles beneath. A glow started in the toes of her slippers and radiated all along her nerve endings until it reached the top of her head. She looked up at him, surprise in her eyes, to find that he was looking down at her intently.

"You can't go in there like that, Lilah! Your hair is falling down and it's got twigs in it and you've got a great rip in your dress!" Mr. Calvert's sharp protest brought her back to reality with a thud.

Lilah, who had almost forgotten about her misadventure, stopped and looked down at herself in horror. From what she could see, Mr. Calvert was understating the case. The shimmery silk of her lovely new gown was torn in a dozen places, with a long rip exposing part of her white petticoat down one side. A jagged tear in her bodice just below the low-cut scoop of her neckline allowed glimpses of creamy skin and pin-tucked chemise. Her hands rose in horror to her hair. As Mr. Calvert had said, it had come loose from its moorings. From the feel of the heavy mass, the great knot of pale blonde hair at the back of her head was precariously askew. She had no doubt that the little ringlets that Betsy, her maid, had laboriously coaxed to fall around her face and neck were reduced to unsightly straggles.

With an acute sense of dismay she realized that she must look a perfect fright, which was something she was decidedly unaccustomed to. Lilah Remy was always perfectly turned out, regardless of occasion, weather, or exertion. It was part and parcel of her reputation for matchless beauty. Her eyes flew to Jocelyn San Pietro. His eyes were on her, twinkling. His lips, though firmly pressed together beneath that dashing mustache, gave the impression that they were battling a smile.

"Oh dear," she said, dropping her hands. He leaned over and plucked a twig of honeysuckle from her hair. For a moment only he held it with long, powerful- looking fingers, and then he tucked it carefully into the breast pocket of the black cutaway coat he wore beneath his driving coat so that a single blossom still showed. Lilah was charmed by the gesture. Beside her, she thought she heard Mr. Calvert grind his teeth.