Lucia stared at him, flustered. “I hate pink,” she finally stammered.
“The signora is right. It suits you.”
She looked down, threading the flimsy silk through her fingers. “It makes me feel like a little girl.”
“We both know you’re no little girl.” Another bell added to the clanging of the first, and still he ignored the warning.
Her gaze met his, her azure eyes considering him. “Lord Selbourne, I didn’t come out here to argue with you.”
“Alex,” he bit out and stepped nearer.
Her brow crinkled. “What?”
“I said, Alex, goddammit. We’re well past Lord Selbourne and Miss Dashing.”
“If you don’t mind, I think it’s best if we retain that formality.” She tossed her head again, and he was before her in an instant, hands cupping her face. She tried to jerk away, but he held her firmly and turned her face to his.
“Oh, but I do mind, Lucia,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I want to hear you say my name.”
She stared at him, eyes wide and dazed. He saw in her expression a mirror of his own reaction. The feel of her skin between his hands, the heat of her body, and the bottomless blue of her exotic eyes threatened to overwhelm his tenuous control. He was spinning, his blood racing.
She closed her eyes, titled her chin up. Inviting him . . .
“Say it, Lucia.” His voice was husky with need.
“Alex.” It was little more than a breath, but the sound of his name on her lips sent a bolt of white heat through him.
His mouth descended hungrily, and he crushed her to him. Her body melted into his, molding to him, fitting him like a finely tailored coat. He was struck by the thought that she belonged in his arms—her lush flesh pressed against his, her lips moving tentatively under his mouth, her hands clutching the collar of his shirt.
Her skin was hot under his cool mouth and fingers, and she tasted of vanilla. He moved his hands to plunder her thick tresses, to cradle her head, reveling in the feel of her silky strands caught between his fingers. Her taste, her smell, the feel of her penetrated every pore. And when she gripped him tighter, kissed him more deeply, each of his senses exploded. He forgot who he was, where he was, knew only the feel of her lips beneath his, her body against him.
Their kiss was hard. Demanding. He probed her teeth with his tongue, and with a gasp, she opened her mouth to him. Exploring her was another new experience. He touched. He tasted. He tantalized.
She moaned, and he broke the kiss, moving to trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her throat. He breathed in her ear, and she shivered violently.
“Alex.” It was a sigh, erotic as hell in his ear. He almost yelped when she slipped her hands inside his tailcoat to caress him more intimately.
“Bloody hell!” With a feeling akin to physical pain, he pushed her away. Reality, like a slow leak, seeped into his brain.
He had to stop this or take her right now. Already his erection was hard, straining against his trousers. He leaned an arm against the wall of the house and took several deep breaths. She was silent, and he cast a glance at her. Her face betrayed every emotion—confusion, anger, desire. The last made him throb anew.
“Lucia, we can’t do this.”
“Of course not!” For once, she sounded exasperated. “Why did you start?”
“I started?” He laughed hoarsely. “You came to me, sweetheart.”
“Not for—I wouldn’t have sought you out again tonight except for my brother. If you have any new information, I’m asking you to share it.”
He should have known. “You’re as persistent as a dog digging for his bone, aren’t you?”
She huffed. “Well, that’s a lovely comparison. At least I try to be pleasant. Just tell me what you’ve learned about John.”
He shook his head, assessing her silently. She glared at him. “Are you going to tell me or not?”
It was probably the only way to get rid of her, though he doubted he’d get away that easily. “I didn’t learn anything,” he said finally. “I visited several more businesses, and went to White’s. None of the merchants or the members of his club have seen or heard from your brother since March.”
“Aha!” She beamed and jabbed a triumphant finger at him. “Then you have to admit that John is no longer in London.”
