The Devil's Match (8 page)

Diana visibly paled.

Ludovic chuckled. “I daresay I can manage
even
with
the
boots.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Why ever not?”

“My lord, you may make an ass of yourself all
you like, but I will not allow you to humiliate me or our dear
goddaughter.”

“Once again, my lady, you make unfounded
presumptions. You
will
put
your antagonism aside for Vesta and Hew’s sake. And I will lead you
out to the floor where you will dance with a smile upon your face
as if you are transported.”

“And if I refuse?” she challenged.

He answered sotto voce with a twisted smile.
“Then, my dear, I will bodily carry you. And I promise there is not
a single one here who would dare to intervene.”

***

When Lord DeVere extended his velvet-clad arm,
Diana scrambled for any excuse, any way out, but then his hand came
over hers, holding it in a clasp of iron on his sleeve. The
taunting look he delivered confirmed that her wish was impossible;
there would be no escaping the mortification.

Choosing to meet her fate with quiet dignity,
Diana raised her chin and advanced to the center of the room on
DeVere’s arm. She watched with amazement as with a mere inclination
of his head, the crowd divided, moving in a giant wave toward the
outer walls, as if he were Moses parting the Red Sea. With a
hundred or more pairs of eyes riveted on their every move, Diana
felt her face would burst into flames. He gave her another mocking
smile, and she wondered if the evening could possibly get any
worse.

Upon DeVere’s command, the musicians launched
into an airy piece she recognized as a Bach minuet. Determined not
to give him any more fodder for ridicule, Diana turned to their
audience, dipping into the deep curtsey, the formal show of
reverence that began the courtly minuet. She kept her eyes lowered
on her silk petticoats sweeping the floor, then turned to offer the
same homage to her partner, refusing to meet DeVere’s gaze even as
she rose to face him. She couldn’t mask her nervous tremble when he
reached for her hand to begin the dance.

She stared, flabbergasted when he remarked,
“Just concentrate on the pattern, Diana, and I’ll ensure you don’t
make a spectacle of us.”

“Me
? I’m not the
one reeling with drink!” Diana couldn’t determine if he had meant
to reassure or ridicule, but he had certainly succeeded in
discomposing her. Thenceforth, it took all her concentration to
keep track of the intricate steps. They had already proceeded
halfway across the floor when Diana realized rather than stumbling
and staggering through the dance as she had anticipated, DeVere
rose and dipped in perfect time with the music, every movement
executed flawlessly.

“But you don’t even dance!” she hissed.

He flashed her a dazzling smile that
rattled her to the point of faltering. DeVere broke the pattern to
take her in hand and lead her back into the dance. “I despise it,”
he murmured back through his show of brilliant white teeth. “But I
never said I
couldn’t
. One
can hardly avoid the tedious obligation of it when spending half a
year in Paris.”

They executed the first turn and parted for the
z-figure. When they came together again, DeVere remarked, “It’s the
main reason I left Paris for Venice—to escape the execrable French
obsession with dancing.” They parted once more for the left turn.
“There is, however, one form of dance of which I am highly
enamored,” he said as the figure brought them back together
again.

“And what is that?” she asked.

“There is a fascinating dance practiced among
the Turks and Egyptians.”

“Really?” Diana remarked, intrigued despite
herself. “How is it different?”

DeVere gave her a wicked smile. “It is highly
erotic in nature. But if the subject truly interests you, I would
be delighted to find you some instruction in Oriental dance.”

“You are beyond the pale.” Diana glared. DeVere
laughed.

She was still trembling when the final notes
sounded at the end of the dance but now from a completely different
cause. She could neither comprehend nor control the effect this man
had over her. Her pulse raced; her breathing was short. She
repeated her obeisance to partner and onlookers in a daze wrought
of conflicting emotions. Suddenly feeling as if she was
suffocating, Diana turned in a swish of silk skirts to flee the
stifling ballroom.

Chapter Eight

“Just look at them, Hew,” Vesta gushed as Diana
and DeVere departed the dance floor. “Have you ever seen a more
handsome couple? Who would ever have thought?”

“Couple? I see no couple,” said Hew, remarking
Diana’s flight. “She has left my brother standing there gaping. To
all appearances, she could not leave him fast enough.”

“She’s in love with him, you know,” Vesta
declared.

Hew sputtered on his drink. “Diana and my
brother? Impossible! I mean, there may have been something between
them in the distant past, but anyone can see how much she despises
him.”

“Poor darling,” she cooed, “you know so
little of women. She only
wants
to despise him. That’s quite another thing, you
know.”

“Oh, no! I have come to recognize that devious
gleam, Vesta. Do not meddle with my brother and Diana. I assure
you, Ludovic is not a man to be crossed, and there is already some
history between them we know nothing about.”

“But don’t you see it’s for their own good? They
only need time alone together, Hew, and I am certain they will come
to feel quite differently about one another.” She beamed up at him.
“Just as we did.”

“Just because your scheming worked
once
does not mean I’ll condone it
again.”

“But we don’t actually have to
do
anything, Hew. That’s beauty of
it. All they need is the opportunity for nature to take its course.
And I know just the thing.”

Before Hew could even think to stop her, Vesta
was already tripping across the ballroom toward the French
doors.

***

Bursting onto the terrace, Diana gasped in a
great breath, only to discover DeVere had trailed after her.
Although she had given him no encouragement, she still wasn’t
surprised by his dogged pursuit. Once he set his sights on a goal,
he was ruthless in obtaining it. He would wear her down until she
had no strength left to resist him. She wished she had never
re-crossed his path.

“Why?” She spun on him. “Why do you continue to
importune me when I have made my repugnance clear?”

“Why?” he shot back. “Because I always get
what I want, and I find I still want
you.
Indeed, the unfulfilled craving is driving
me half-mad.”

“Only
half
-mad?” she jeered. “You are
completely
insane if you think to
ever have me again. What passed between us was a monumental mistake
and one I have no intention of repeating. Why can’t you accept that
and just let me be?”

“Why do you continue this game, Diana?” he
asked, his voice a soft rumble against her hair. He was standing
close enough to engulf her in his scent, a concoction of brandy,
leather, horses, and male musk that made her senses reel. “Your own
body belies you,” he said. “The faintest touch has you trembling
with want.”

“Your conceit is unbearable. I’m shivering with
cold, you insufferable boor!”

“The first statement is undoubtedly true.” He
chuckled. “But I have grave doubts about the second.”

She felt his hard thighs against her backside
and his hands on her waist, slowly ascending, the heat of his touch
infusing her skin through the light silk of her gown. His thumbs
brushed the outsides of her breasts, making her body rack with tiny
but undeniable quivers of sensation. “It’s not the cold, Diana.”
His hot breath fanned her nape. “And you know it.”

It was past time to escape. Diana spun around
only to hear a familiar, feminine voice declare from inside the
ballroom, “So that’s where the draft is coming from!” The terrace
door clicked firmly shut, followed by the sound of the tumblers
turning in the lock. Realizing she was now trapped with DeVere,
Diana wanted to cry out in dismay. She turned her back to him in an
effort to compose herself. She fixed her gaze out over the lawn, at
the fountain in its midst shimmering under the light of myriad
flambeaux. “Please,” she said in an unsteady voice, “I can’t bear
it again. I truly don’t want this.”

Her heart galloped when he stroked the backs of
his fingers down her arms and then over her breasts. Her
treacherous body betrayed her once more, her nipples instantly
tingling and hardening in response to him.

“But I think you do,” he said.

“No! I don’t! I am not the same woman I was four
years ago. I’d had a horrible shock. Several, in fact, that made me
much too vulnerable to you. My life was crumbling before my eyes,
and you exploited that.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” he asked. “I
did no such thing, Diana. You turned to me in your need. I did not
coerce you.”

“You saw my weakness and took advantage of
it!”

“How?” he asked “How did I take advantage
of you? You sought me out, remember? You came to
my
bed, and I gave you what you
asked for...and much more. How is that exploitation?”

“As soon as you got what
you
wanted, you broke it off and
disappeared! You were gone for
four
years,
Ludovic! No word. Nothing!”

“And you believe it was by my choice?” His voice
sounded rough and edged with bitterness. “Have the past years not
brought you any clarity?”

“You made it clear enough at the time. ‘Amorous
idyll’s are best ended before the bloom is off the rose.’” She
laughed, an equally harsh sound.

He winced. “Did I say that?”

“Yes! And then you paid me off like some
high-priced whore.”

“It was an exceedingly generous settlement,
intended to provide for your security.”

“Am I supposed to feel gratitude?”

“Frankly, yes!”

“But a lease to a house is so very mundane,
Ludovic. What do you intend to offer me this time? Diamonds and
rubies?”

“Don’t, Diana! You are different from the
rest.”

“How am I to think myself any different from
your countless mistresses, concubines, and whores, when you took
what you wanted and offered payment in return?”

“Damn you! It wasn’t like that. You know
that’s
not
how I thought of
you. How I feel about you!”

“Feel?” she cried out. “What could a man
like you possibly
feel
beyond
your—”

“My what?” He brought her hand to his groin.
“Say it, Diana. I love hearing vulgar words from your lovely
lips.”

“I refuse to gratify that.” She snatched her
hand away as if burned.

He laughed. “Then I’ll say it for you—my
cock. The part of me that oftimes governs my life. Yes, I feel a
great deal
there
and with
great frequency, but each encounter is soon forgotten. You were the
exception to that. You were never just a fuck to me. Can’t you
understand that? For the first time, I wanted more. I wanted
something else from you, Diana, but that something was denied me.
And when I knew I couldn’t have it, when it appeared utterly
impossible, I was enraged.”

“So you left.”

“Yes, I left. I had several good reasons
for doing so...not the least of which was to protect a
certain
widow’s good
name.”

“What misery it must have been for you to be
obliged to gallivant about continental brothels and gaming rooms
for four years. So self-sacrificing,” she jeered.

“I won’t apologize to you or to anyone else for
my way of life, madam. Wine, women, gaming, and horses are a
lifelong habit but one with which I have become utterly bored of
late. The drinking, the gaming, the whoring, it became the same day
after day, just in other locales. ‘Tis why I eventually went to the
East to try to discover something more, something worthwhile.
Ironically, the only diversion or peace I have found was among
those so-called heathen Turks.”

“Then why did you bother to return?”

“I almost did not, but you might say I
wore out my welcome. My money only bought me limited time as they
never truly accept infidels. I seriously contemplated conversion
just to remain there, but I lacked the spiritual fortitude and
could not in good conscience pretend to live under their religious
yoke. I am many things, Diana, but
not
a hypocrite.”

“You expect me to swallow that tripe when you
have reembraced all the depravity you just professed to have
shunned?”

“Don’t mock me,” he said. “I bear physical
evidence of my sincere attempt of redemption, but I accept that I
failed. Thus, what is left for me now but to indulge my
senses?”

“Your journey of self-discovery is a truly
moving tale, my lord, but I fail to see what any of it has to do
with me.”

“Do you not?” he asked. “For I see it at last.
It’s rare that I have known honesty, Diana. I realized this three
weeks ago, the very moment you marched into my private chambers in
all your glorious, self-righteous fury.”

“But you knew I would come, didn’t you? It was
all a ploy, just an amusing game to you. That’s all I have ever
been, isn’t it? Merely a challenge to entertain a bored rake?”