Page 19 of The Lyon and the Lamb

Was it too soon to feel a sense of relief?

Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s veiled face was now turned toward Aylsham. “When you came upstairs three nights ago, into the room where a naked woman awaited you, you were fully aware that the outcome of that event was to be a marriage.”

“Fully aware might be stretching a point, madam. I think the drinks you serve here are rather stronger and more intoxicating than your customers believe them to be. But I admit, though it shames me to say it, that I had an expectation of becoming attached to an heiress. I have since had plenty of time to regret my folly.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon sniffed and gave a little toss of her head. “Please be honest with me, your lordship. When you made up your mind to visit the Lyon’s Den today, what was your purpose?”

“I came to learn the identity of the woman I was supposed to be marrying.”

“And now you know it. So, you can keep up your end of the bargain.”

Araminta felt as if the weight of a thousand millstones were pressing down upon her. Her heart had forgotten how to beat, and she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want him any more than he wanted her, but what other way was there to secure her future, and that of Belinda?

Aylsham shot her a sideways look, then stared straight at Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “My ‘intended’ and I wish to be left alone. We need to have a full and frank discussion, the kind that should most definitely take place in private.”

Araminta quivered and glanced sideways. Aylsham was continuing to stare down Mrs. Dove-Lyon. It was a shame no one could see the expression on that veiled face—it was becoming annoying, in truth. Araminta now understood why Aylsham had wanted her to unmask when she’d first visited him.

A battle of wills raged briefly between the earl and the Lyon’s Den’s proprietress. The earl won.

Rising from her chaise longue with queenly dignity, Mrs. Dove-Lyon exited the room. Aylsham collected a chair and placed it before Araminta, then settled down, and sat back. His pale grey eyes pierced her very soul.

Her cheeks heated, and she forced herself to stop imagining what he might look like naked, with candlelight flickering over his muscular contours. Having a sensible discussion whilst ignoring the demands of her imagination was going to be a struggle. Her accursed imaginings didn’t diminish him in any way—though she still heartily disliked the man.

However, a few good points had penetrated the cloud of disapproval. He liked children, he’d been polite to Belinda, he’d put Mrs. Dove-Lyon in her place, and he was superlative in bed.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

She rather hoped he didn’t. A blush suffused her entire body. Even her eyes felt hot.

“I doubt it.”

“I’m seldom wrong. It just so happens that I’m thinking much the same thing. Damn you, woman.”

With that, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.

Chapter Nine

Lady Lamb felt soft and pliant in Leo’s arms, and as her exotic scent washed over him, his body caught fire. How easy it would be to kiss her senseless until he won her sweet surrender and tasted the incomparable delights of her flesh once again!

But that would be folly. They wanted each other—her response to his kiss told him that—but he wasn’t after a mistress, and she needed more than a lover. There was too much at stake for him to let his passions take charge now.

He pulled away. “I hadn’t meant to do that. Forgive me.” Only—he found he couldn’t release her.

She glanced at him, and he was surprised by the tenderness in her eyes. If only she would wrap her arms around his neck and push her fingers into his hair as she had that night. His throat went dry.

He really shouldn’t keep her on his lap—it simply heightened his need. Besides which, anyone might burst in on them. Then he remembered what was rumored to go in the upstairs rooms of the building. The people who worked at the Lyon’s Den wouldn’t be easily shocked.

“I’ve been offensive—I apologize. I wasn’t best pleased when I discovered your identity, Lady Lamb, and feared I’d been played for a fool. But if we’re both to blame for the situation in which we find ourselves, we can only establish the fact through complete honesty. And I don’t know about you, but I’m less than keen to unburden myself in front of Mrs. Dove-Lyon, even though she knows who we are and what we’ve done.”

His Venus stirred in his lap. “I think I should return to my chair,” she announced, prim as a schoolmistress.

At least one of them was being sensible. “Of course.” He released her, with a mingled sense of relief and loss. “I shouldn’t have importuned you like that, not when we have negotiating to do. Having established that you don’t find me repulsive, let’s progress from that point. Perhaps I should add that I don’t find you repulsive, either.”

She glared at him, affronted, and he chuckled. “I’m teasing you, your ladyship.”

“I think we must be serious, sir, and put aside all consideration of that night we spent together in blissful ignorance of each other’s identity.”

As a gentleman, he could not. One did not plunder a young woman’s treasures and then abandon her like some Viking after a raid. But he’d think about that later. For now, he needed to draw her out, find out what was behind her behavior, and—for the moment at least—give her the benefit of the doubt.