Page 29 of To Break the Rules

“And this surprises you?” she retorted, staring at him.

He sighed. “It’s orgeat, Miss Hunt. Quite unadulterated, I assure you.”

Matilda frowned and took a hesitant sip, reassured to taste nothing more forbidden than orange flowers and almonds. There was ice in the drink, however, the sides of the glass sweating and dripping as she threw caution to the wind and drank deeply. The icy liquid slid down her throat, making her realise just how hot and thirsty she’d been.

With a sigh of bliss, she held the glass to her neck, allowing the remaining ice to cool her, and then opened her eyes with a start as she remembered she was being watched.

Montagu’s gaze was intent, and Matilda felt a flush rise over her skin.

“Thank you,” she said, cautiously. “Though I suppose I shall pay for it. You never do anything without an ulterior motive, do you?”

“No,” he said, his expression unchanging.

“Do I owe you my soul now, then?” she asked sweetly, “Or do you already have that for saving Alice from Mr Bindley’s unwelcome attentions? I recollect that debt was laid at my feet.”

To her surprise he shook his head. “You repaid that already.”

“I… I did?” Matilda could not hide her surprise.

“You did.”

She regarded him, perplexed. He looked totally at ease, impeccably dressed as always, as though the heat didn’t bother him in the least. Matilda had watched with amusement as collars and cravats had steadily wilted as the afternoon wore on, but Montagu was cool and pristine. Perhaps he really did have ice in his veins.

He leaned on an ebony cane with a heavy silver top, watching her, and looking the picture of the refined English gentleman.

Appearances could be deceptive.

“Good,” she said, knowing it would annoy him if she didn’t ask how she’d achieved such a feat. She stood, smoothing down her dress and giving him the impression she was about to leave.

“You danced with me,” he said, apparently aware she would not ask, and giving her the answer, nonetheless.

“Ah, of course, a dance,” she said, turning to look at him. “It should not surprise me that you price virtue so cheaply. You destroyed mine with ease enough.”

“But your virtue is still intact, Miss Hunt,” he said, and suddenly the atmosphere had changed, tension thrumming between them.

“It may as well not be,” she snapped, and then cursed herself for the outburst, wishing she’d not allowed him to rile her.

If he’d smiled, she would have slapped him, but he did not. He only took a step closer to her.

“I don’t believe you mean that,” he said, his voice low, sending a strange sensation shivering over her skin. “But… if it is true, why not give it to me? You are as aware of the attraction between us as I am. Why not give into it?”

Matilda gasped, her breath coming faster as he closed the gap between them. He stood so close his scent reached her. Starched linen, leather, a hint of bergamot, and the clean heat of a male body filled her senses. For one bewildering moment she imagined it, imagined allowing him what he asked of her, and the idea made her giddy with an alluring mixture of fear and excitement.

“I would give you everything you could possibly desire,” he said, his voice an invitation all its own, tempting her as he leaned in, his mouth so close to her ear that if she turned her head their mouths would meet. “Everything you could dream of.”

Strangely, it was that which woke her from the trance and brought her back to reality with a snap.

Everything you could dream of.

Matilda closed her eyes and gave a little huff of laughter. “I’m sorry, my lord, but you are far and wide of the mark. My dreams hold things of such value, you could never begin to afford them.”

A flash of arrogant pride was visible in those strange silver-grey eyes. “Name them. Name your price,” he said, sounding strangely breathless.

Smiling, Matilda backed away from him, exhilaration singing beneath her skin. “My dreams would be a foreign country to you, my Lord Montagu, filled as they are with a home, children, and marriage to a man who loves and honours me. It’s of no matter if he’s a lord or a common merchant, either. I shan’t care, you know. I shall love him with all my heart, and give him everything he could ever dream of.”

With a little blaze of triumph burning in her heart, Matilda gave a defiant laugh and hurried away.

***