Perhaps it was the respite he’d gained because of his winnings at Miss Ivy’s. Or because he had been so constrained in his behavior that something had to give eventually.
Or just because she was innocent, yes, but she knew full well what he was talking about. What they were talking about.
And that made it irresistible.
Then, when she had responded to his frank assessment of her entire person with one of her own—he knew what it was to be sorely, utterly tempted.
He wanted to undress in front of her, watch as her gaze traveled over his naked body.
He wanted to please her, give her the satisfaction he’d alluded to in their conversation. Hear her soft moans and cries of pleasure as he devoted himself entirely to her. Taste her climax as she shuddered under his mouth.
That was one of the things he knew made him a remarkable lover, at least according to the women he’d slept with; he did always strive for their pleasure as well as his, and he took care to discover what it was they liked in bed, and gave it to them. Thoroughly.
She wouldn’t know what she liked in bed, of course. Not yet.
Damn, but he wanted her to find out. With him.
What he wouldn’t give to have her in his bed; wrapped in his sheets, her skin warm and soft against his. Her slowly learning what she wanted, and him making certain she received it.
He imagined her curiosity would extend to everything. Perhaps she would want to touch his cock, stroke him to see what response she would get. Maybe she’d slide her lips down his skin, licking his nipples as she ran her hands over his body. Grab his arse in her hands.
And now he was hard as a rock at this ridiculous engagement party, as though he were new to fucking when he’d been doing it consistently since he was seventeen years old.
Though he hadn’t fucked anyone in the past few months—too busy minding his reputation and growing increasingly desperate to lose himself in a woman’s arms.
Perhaps that was what this was all about. It wasn’t her—it was that it had been too long for him in general.
But the thought of doing it with anyone but her left him cold.
Goddamn it.
It was her.
“Mr. Sharpe?”
Her voice intruded on his thoughts. His thoughts about her. The irony did not escape him.
“Pardon, my lady?”
She wore an amused expression. One that was even slightly mocking. “Miss Grosvenor asked you a question.”
Thomas shifted his attention to Miss Grosvenor. She was charming, but so fresh-faced and naive he felt nearly decadent even speaking to her.
“What is it, Miss Grosvenor? I apologize, I was”—fantasizing about the other lady here—“thinking about something,” he finished, making a vague gesture.
“I wanted to know, Mr. Sharpe,” she replied, her cheeks a bright red hue, “if you could recommend a tailor? My father,” she said with a wry smile, “doesn’t always pay attention to his clothing. And my stepmother,” she added, “is just as new to London as I am.”
“Of course,” Thomas replied. “I will send you my tailor’s card, and I’ll include a note so he knows to take the utmost care with your father.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said, beaming. Her smile was brighter than the candles in the closest chandelier. “You are always so elegantly dressed, and I am hopeful my father will understand it is merely good business to look appropriate.” Her face flushed even more. “Oh no, and I am not supposed to mention business. Please forgive me,” she said, sounding flustered.
“Do not apologize,” Lady Jane said, before Thomas could respond. “It seems ridiculous that you are not supposed to mention the thing that drives and pays for our world.” Her tone was fierce, and Thomas felt his eyes widen in surprise at her vehemence. “Behaving the way Society prefers would mean ladies would never speak, would never share an opinion unless it is a corroboration of a man’s opinion.” She gave a firm nod. “I for one am glad you feel comfortable enough to mention business around us.”
“Oh, thank you,” Miss Grosvenor replied, sounding relieved. “My stepmother, she—” She glanced across the room, presumably to that lady’s location. “She reads all the etiquette guides and shares what she’s read. But neither she nor I have been in this type of Society before, so neither of us actually knows.”
“Lady Jane is correct,” Thomas said. “That you should speak whatever is on your mind, provided it isn’t harmful and won’t hurt anybody’s feelings.”
“Those are excellent guidelines in general, Mr. Sharpe,” Lady Jane said approvingly.
“Thank you, my lady.”
“And since this is on my mind, I would like to invite you both to an event my brother and I are hosting.” She shot a quick, meaningful glance toward Miss Grosvenor. Saying, without saying it aloud, that the lady was a prime candidate to be his wife.
The thought left him feeling desolate.
Not because she wasn’t charming and pretty and definitely wealthy enough to afford his family’s upkeep, but because—because she wasn’t who he would choose.
Because he didn’t have a choice.
And who would he choose if he did? Perhaps best not to ponder that too long, or he would commit himself to an action he could never undo.
Like undoing her gown. Undoing her passion. Undoing himself as he found pleasure in her.
Wonderful job not pondering, Thomas, he thought ruefully.
“I would love to attend,” Miss Grosvenor replied.
Both ladies turned to look at him, waiting for his response. Her with a wry gleam in her eye, as though fully aware that he had no choice—in general, but also in this particular instance—to agree.
“Thank you, my lady, I would love to join you. What kind of event is it?” he asked.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, flinging her hands up in the air. “I didn’t even explain!”
“Percy and I wanted to invite some of our friends for an evening of entertainment.” She twisted her mouth. “Or an afternoon of entertainment.” She shook her head. “Anyway. The point is the entertainment, not the timing of it. We’re thinking of—well, like a circus.” And she lifted her chin as she met his gaze. “I was fortunate enough to see one recently, and it was so delightful, and so few of us are given the freedom to see something like that, not without any number of interfering chaperones and parents and such.” She shrugged. “We thought it would allow people to be exposed to things they would not normally come into contact with.” She felt her breath catch at her own words—exposed to things they would not normally come into contact with. Just what she was hoping for from him.
Only she wanted to be exposed to him, doing things she would not normally be allowed access to.
Just the thought of it was enough to make her body tighten, to make her glance at his mouth, at those gorgeous, full lips that she had kissed in the carriage. Wondering what he could expose her to. What she would reciprocate with.
And his return stare—intense, direct, and passionate—was the kind of look a man would give to a woman. Not the kind of look a brother’s best friend would give to the sister. Not the kind of look that indicated that there was a power imbalance, both in gender and in experience.
But a look that said, “I want you, and you want me, and we shouldn’t let anything impede our wants.”
It made her feel strong. It made her feel as though she was able to make her own choices about her life.
Even though he couldn’t.
“That sounds marvelous,” Miss Grosvenor replied.
“It does,” he said in a low, meaningful tone. She swallowed hard when he didn’t look away. His look was a challenge, a challenge she wanted to—that she was going to—accept.
He was hers on loan in their most unusual business proposition. She needed to keep that in mind.
“Percy and I have to decide on a date,” she continued. “It will be in about a week.”
“What will be in about a week?”
Jane turned at hearing Percy’s voice, her lips curling into a smile when she saw her brother.
As usual, he looked as though he had stepped out of the pages of Romantic Poets Weekly; his long, dark hair curled over his collar in what most would assume was studied disarray, but what she knew was merely being too distracted to see to his appearance entirely. Likewise, his evening jacket was elegant, but his shirt had a few faint ink stains, meaning he must not have changed beyond tossing on his jacket.
“Our party,” Jane replied, tucking Percy’s arm into hers. She felt him stiffen as he saw who she was with—clearly, he was still concerned she would be an idiot and fall in love with Mr. Sharpe.
Well, he was right to be concerned, given how much she wished Mr. Sharpe—Thomas—would show her what she had asked him to. Even though she didn’t know the specifics of what she had asked.
Which was rather the point of asking him for guidance, wasn’t it? If she knew already, she wouldn’t need assistance.
“Yes, our party,” he echoed. “You will both be able to attend?”
Miss Grosvenor nodded quickly, while Thomas inclined his head in his usual graceful manner.
What would it be like to see him undone? To see him lose that cool elegance because of something he felt. Someone he was feeling something with.
She wished she knew the names of everything she was imagining. Though that knowledge would lead her right back to not needing to be shown, so perhaps she was glad she didn’t know.
So he could show her.
So he could be undone by her.
She wanted, no, she craved that power. She sensed it was possible—their kiss in the carriage had shown that—and with more instruction, and more time, and just more, she knew it was within her grasp.
That he was within her grasp.
Though she also had a duty to ensure Miss Grosvenor, or other wealthy unmarried ladies, saw him as unattached and secretly loyal to one of them.
Even though the idea of his marrying made her furious.
Whether it was because he was being forced to, or because it would mean he would be out of reach, she did not care to answer.
But she had promised.
“Miss Grosvenor, would you like to take a stroll about the room?” She dropped Percy’s arm and stepped to the younger woman’s side, giving her a warm smile, which Miss Grosvenor returned.
“I would, thank you, my lady.”
Jane took a deep breath, her mind racing with the thoughts of what she should say and how she should say it.
Thankfully, Miss Grosvenor opened the conversation with the topic on Jane’s mind.
“Mr. Sharpe seems very pleasant,” the younger woman said hesitantly.
“He is,” Jane replied. “Very.”
Silence for a few moments. This was not what she had meant to do—agree and then stop talking. How would that possibly convince any young lady Mr. Sharpe was in earnest?
“Mr. Sharpe is so pleasant, in fact,” Jane continued, “that he has said he appreciates a particular young lady, but he does not wish to approach her yet because he fears his reputation as somewhat of a rake might prejudice the young lady against him.”
“A rake?” Miss Grosvenor replied. “My stepmother alluded to that, but I told her I did not see it. He has been nothing but a gentleman toward me.”
Excellent. Terrible. Both.
The two continued walking, Jane giving an occasional smile toward an acquaintance until she spotted Lady Emily and her customary coterie of equally gossipy friends.
“Lady Emily! And Miss Hemingsworth and Lady Thomasina! You are all looking delightful.” Jane drew her arm out of Miss Grosvenor’s. “Might I have the pleasure of introducing my new friend, Miss Grosvenor? She has just arrived in town.”
Lady Emily, as the leader of the group, held her hand out to the other lady, who took it with what seemed to be her usual friendly smile.
“And you are here to see some of Society?” She glanced around, as though fearful of being overheard. “Perhaps capture yourself a husband?”
“Why else does anyone go out?” Miss Hemingsworth cut in, an expression on her face that indicated just how aggravating the task was.
She and Thomas had that in common, then. Though Jane knew Miss Hemingsworth would settle for nothing less than a title, which Thomas did not have.
Thank goodness, Miss Hemingsworth was suitably wealthy, but she did not seem kind. Jane wanted Thomas’s eventual wife to at least be someone she liked.
Lady Emily made a tsking sound, leaning in to speak directly to Miss Grosvenor. “I see you have made the acquaintance already of Mr. Sharpe. Such a handsome man,” she said, as though she was personally responsible for his appearance.
Jane realized she did not like these ladies very much.
But it was the perfect opportunity to spread her rumors. “Yes, I was just telling Miss Grosvenor that”—and she also took a moment to glance around so as to indicate what she was saying was confidential—“that I have heard him say he is quite fond of a certain young lady, but does not want to tell her so. Not yet, not when his reputation is so—so scandalous.”
“A little scandal just adds to the allure of capturing such a prize,” Lady Emily said, snapping her fan open and waving it frantically in the air. “Alas, I cannot capture him, thanks to Mr. Smythe at home”—her betrothed, whose family estates bordered her own family’s—“but the lady who does will be rewarded. Though not financially, of course. It seems he needs a certain amount of money brought to the marriage.”
“Oh,” Miss Grosvenor replied slowly. “I had wondered why he was still unmarried.”
“He’s been on the hunt for a couple of years now, but never able to close the deal,” Lady Emily said, her tone slightly malicious. “But if he has actually fallen in love with one of the young ladies, as you say—perhaps he has changed his ways.” She snapped her fan closed again. “That will be quite interesting to watch.”
The assembled ladies all murmured their assent, and Jane swallowed her defense of Mr. Sharpe, who was, after all, guilty of everything the ladies had said.
But he was also kind and generous and thoughtful. So much more than a pretty face.
Thomas and Percy watched as the ladies walked away, Thomas unable to keep his eyes off her, even though he knew that way lay danger.
“How is your campaign going?” Percy asked. His voice was tight. Thomas would have to reassure his friend that he was not likely to fall in love with his sister.
Even though that would mean lying.
Because if things were able to proceed without impediment, there would be a strong likelihood he would fall in love with Jane.
Her beauty drew him immediately, of course, but it was her kindness, her wit, her clear joy for life that kept him intrigued. If his life were unencumbered, he could very well see himself falling in love with her—even though he would have scoffed at the idea of falling in love with anybody six months ago.
But he could never reveal any of his feelings. Not to her, not to anybody. Barely to himself. If he did, he’d be risking ruining her happiness as well as foreclosing on his own. He wouldn’t be that cruel. He’d have to maintain his distance, no matter what was in his heart.
“My campaign is looking brighter,” Thomas replied, nodding in the direction Jane and Miss Grosvenor had taken. “Miss Grosvenor comes from a very wealthy family, and it is an unexpected bonus that she actually seems like a reasonably nice person.”
Percy folded his arms over his chest, giving Thomas a suspicious look.
Apparently he wasn’t lying well enough. Or Percy was just being cautious, which Thomas had to applaud.
If he had a sister like Jane, he would be wary of any gentleman who spent time with her. She seemed so demure and naive, even though he knew now that she was intent on shedding that demeanor.
But she couldn’t shed her appearance, or her status as a woman who was in Society but whose standing was less than it had been, likely attracting unscrupulous men.
Such as Lord Joseph.
He did have a sister, of course. Two in fact, though Julia was taken care of.
But Alice—Alice, who was far sharper in mind than a lady was supposed to be. Who was so shy she couldn’t bear to be in a crowd of more than four without beginning to shake.
Who would need care for the rest of her life.
“Have you spoken to Miss Grosvenor’s father?” Percy asked. “I have seen him at a few of the economics meetings the queen has hosted. He appears to be a genial man.”
“It is far too early for that,” Thomas replied.
“Why?” Percy spread his hands out wide. “His daughter is obviously here for one thing, and that one thing is what you need to do, and fast. The sooner you are married—”
The sooner I will stop spending time with your sister. Your motivation is perfectly clear.
“The sooner you can protect your family.”
Which was what Percy was doing as well by trying to dislodge his rakish friend from his innocent sister.
“You’re right.” Thomas swallowed against the sudden tightness in his chest. “I’ll make certain Miss Grosvenor knows of my interest, and I will ask her to introduce me to her father.”
Percy clapped him on the back. “That’s excellent news.”
Thomas gave an automatic nod, but his gaze couldn’t help but find Jane in the distance. That silver-blond hair gleaming in the candlelight, her simple gown skimming gently over her curves.
How she appeared to be keenly interested in whatever it was Miss Grosvenor was saying, a generous smile on her mouth.
How he wanted to touch her mouth, first with his fingers, then with his lips, and then with his tongue.
Pouring out all the passion he’d lose when he was safely married to a woman he didn’t love that he also didn’t want to hurt.