Susan Johnson - Seduction in Mind

"I'm afraid I can't help you, Lord Ranelagh," Alex interjected, fixing her gaze on Sam's forehead because her pulse rate had quickened the instant he'd walked into the enclosure and only sheer will had maintained her composure under his surveillance. "I rarely bet on the horses."

"Perhaps we could learn together, then"-he smiled-"about the merits of thoroughbreds."

How beautifully he smiled, how at ease he was in pursuit. "Thank you, but I'm really not interested." Her voice was brusque because she'd barely slept last night for thoughts of him, and his assurance was galling. Furthermore, he looked as though he'd not slept either, his eyes shadowed with fatigue, and she wasn't naive enough to think he'd lost sleep over her.

"She's not interested, Sam," the Prince of Wales noted jovially, turning from his conversation with Lord Rothschild. "Now, there's a first, eh, my boy? And I don't blame you, Alex," he added, grinning. "Sam's not to be trusted with a pretty lady."

"I'm well aware of that, Your Majesty. As is everyone in London."

Wales laughed as Sam's gaze narrowed. "There, you see, your reputation has preceded you."

"You might mention to Miss Ionides that I contribute generously to charity," Sam drawled. "Several of yours, as I recall," he remarked pointedly, one brow raised faintly at the heir to the throne.

"Oh, ho! So it's blackmail and chastisement for my directness," the prince noted cheerfully. "Would you be placated, Alex, by a charitable nature?"

"Charitable in a great many ways, Miss Ionides," Sam interposed smoothly.

She knew what he meant; everyone within hearing knew what he meant, and she kept her voice temperate with effort. "I'm sure you are, Lord Ranelagh, and I commend you on your benevolence, but as I mentioned yesterday, I have a very busy life."

"There. You see, Sam? Just as I said. Now, come," the prince declared, taking Sam by the arm, "come entertain Lillie with your racing expertise. She wishes to parlay her money into a windfall, and if anyone can help her, you can. Excuse us." Familiar with having his wishes obeyed, Wales took Sam with him, and the viscount spent the next hour helping Lillie Langtry, the prince's paramour, bet on sure winners.

But even the Prince of Wales couldn't long prevail on Sam's good nature, and after the fourth race, which brought Lillie another generous return on her investment, Sam made his bow.

"All good wishes on your pursuit." Lillie gazed in Alex's direction. "But as a woman of great wealth, Miss Ionides is in a position to determine her own course in life."

"The advantage of having money," Sam replied lazily, taking note of Alex's mildly distracted air. "Although it allows a certain degree of impulsiveness as well."

"While there are those of us with neither luxury," Lillie murmured.

He couldn't with courtesy agree. "If Miss Ionides refuses me again," he said instead, "I'll be back to add to your winnings."

"Sam, dear, you were more than generous with your discerning eye for winning horseflesh. And I have plenty of time to feather my nest."

"Make sure Wales pays for your company, darling. He can afford it."

Lillie glanced at the prince, who was in conversation with several of his cronies. "I'm doing well," she said quietly.

"Better, at any rate." The viscount knew of the Jersey Lily's impoverished background as the daughter of a clergyman.

"Yes, much. And thank you for all the wins today."

"My pleasure." Sam grinned. "And now we'll see if Jorges has sufficiently bored Miss Ionides."

"Along with all the others," Lillie added with a nod of her head at the throng of men surrounding Alex.

"She looks weary of smiling, don't you think?"

"She does, rather. And you feel you can alter that stoic smile?" Her query was playful.

"Of course I can. If only the lady would overlook the burden of my reputation."

"She plays at amour occasionally herself, it's said."

"So why not with me?"

Lillie's eyes sparkled. "Why not indeed, when you have so much to offer."

But Sam was cautious in his approach this time, standing at the fringe of the throng for a short period, listening to the conversation, watching Alex's response, trying to gauge the extent of her boredom against the protocol of leaving before the prince. Personally, he cared little for Wales's sense of consequence, but Miss Ionides had given him the impression she proceeded with less rashness.

He entered the conversation when Princess Louise began discussing Edgar Boehm's newest sculpture. [2]A sculptor herself as well as Boehm's lover, the princess was waxing eloquent on the portrait he'd recently completed of her mother's servant, John Brown. [3]

"Did the John Brown sculpture appear at the Academy show?" Sam asked.

"Yes. It received much acclaim," Princess Louise proudly replied, always a spirited advocate of her lover's work.

Sam smiled. "As did your work, Princess, I hear. The Times said your Daphne was a triumph."

"They were kind in their praise," she noted modestly. "Have you seen the show, Lord Ranelagh?"

"Only quickly, I'm afraid."

"Then you must go again. Even Mama has gone twice."

"Perhaps I might. Has anyone been lucky at the track today?"

Immediately, a collective sigh of relief seemed to emanate from the group, and several people quickly responded. Everyone was aware of the princess's unhappy marriage to the Marquess of Lome, who was homosexual, so her interest in Boehm was understandable, but the possibility of inadvertently speaking out of turn on either subject always made for a certain awkwardness. Racing was so much more comfortable a topic. As the conversation became animated, Sam was able to approach Alex with apparent casualness.

"You should have been a diplomat, Lord Ranelagh," Alex observed, Sam's finesse worthy of praise. "Everyone finds it difficult to discuss Boehm with the princess."

"You included?"

"Of course. One must agree with her or bear her displeasure, and while the man has talent-" She shrugged.

"It's his other talents that charm the princess."

"No doubt."

"Speaking of such talents," he said, smiling.

She surveyed him, a half-smile barely curving her mouth. "You're persistent at least."

"Did you think I wouldn't be?"

"I didn't think of you at all, my lord," she replied, perjuring herself in self-defense.

"While you quite effectively ruined my peace of mind and my night."

"You spent the night alone, then?" she noted archly, recognizing the weariness of debauch when she saw it.

He hesitated.

"I dislike men who lie."

His teeth flashed white in a smile. "How do you feel about evasion?"

"So you weren't alone, as if I didn't know."

"Were you?"

"No."

He was surprised at the degree of his annoyance. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he drawled.

"Did you?"

"No," he said brusquely, unsure why he chose to be honest. "I didn't."

"My condolences, then. My three-year-old nephew and I enjoyed ourselves immensely. He likes when I read him stories about animals that talk."

"You're a bloody little bitch," he said, but his smile matched the amusement in her eyes.

"That's no concern of yours, is it?"

"I could make it my concern."

"You can't without my leave."

"Why is that?"

Her large eyes seemed to grow larger. "Do you always assert your authority, Lord Ranelagh?"

"Rarely."

"Don't even think of doing it with me."

He smiled. "Am I supposed to be intimidated?"

"Cautioned perhaps. I don't take kindly to coercion."

"You might like it. St. Albans and Courts were older, weren't they?"

"This conversation is over," she said tartly.

"I only meant in play, Miss Ionides. Think about it."

"Go to bloody hell," she said in an undertone, and walked away.