Set Up Read Online Free Page B

her throat.
    A familiar twinge tightened her most private place.
    Time to retreat. Breathless, she used the flat of one hand to fend him off.
    He wavered between irritation, doubt, wistfulness, and lust.
    There was also anxiety, but since she was the manipulator, she understood. He'd taken her retreat as rejection. Time to use the secret face she'd put away years ago. An inviting smile, lips caressed by the tip of an unhurried tongue.
    As a teenager, she had spent hours practicing the look that promised so much and guaranteed so little.
    Because he didn't know the promises were empty, his taut body relaxed. “Would you care to see the bedroom?”
    “Yes.” Recovering from her misstep, she donned the dewy-eyed mask of passion. “I would love to see your bedroom.”
    Her agreement brought back his confidence.
    Poor little gullible boy. I can handle him .
    They walked together, arms around each other's waist.
    The sitting room with its opulent Victorian furnishings and quantities of plush carpet made the barest impression on her. In the bedroom, all she saw was the large bed, its plum-colored comforter overcast by a dim lamp dangling crystals and fringe. The wall behind it, covered with floor to ceiling mirror tiles, reflected the two of them as shadowy, dreamlike apparitions.
    One of his hands steered her toward the bed, the other unbuttoned his coat.
    Her stopping short brought out a frown. “I know you want me.” Make it plain now, while he’s just exasperated, before he gets angry. “But you have to do it my way, Callaway. Slow. I won't be rushed. We have all night, don't we?”
    Her frankness dispelled the crease in the broad forehead.
    “Sure, sweet Scarlet. I have as long as you want. All night, all week.” His fingers caught her hair, sifted through it before he cupped the back of her neck. “We have all the time in the world to discover what turns you on, what turns me on.”
    The hazy light softened his features so he looked young and trusting. Even his mouth looked innocent.
    She wanted to touch it with her fingers, taste it with her tongue.
    He's a man. Like any other man. You’re off men, remember?
    “Good. So we’ll go slow.”
    “We’ll go slow.” He pulled her to him again. His hands clasped her hips and pressed her against his sex, kneading her as if he would pierce through clothing and take her right there. When his fingers worked their way up, sliding into the top of her dress to search for a breast, she moved away.
    “Don't rush me.” There was no need to pretend breathlessness. “You agreed.”
    He took off his coat, laughing, sure of himself and her, but pleasant, always pleasant. “All right, pretty lady. Do you want a cigarette to slow things down? Do you smoke?”
    “Yeah, let's have a cigarette. And where's the champagne? I thought you were going to toast me in champagne.” Knowing full well he’d left the bottle in the other room, she pretended to look around.
    When he started toward the door, her hand caught his cummerbund and tugged suggestively. “Stay here. I'll get it.” Along with something that would put an end to his casual devastation of her body. “Take off your clothes, turn down the bed, and light me that cigarette.”
    “Yes'm, Miss Scahlet!” he said with an exaggerated drawl and unexaggerated alacrity. “Ah'm yo-ahs to command.”
    She felt his eyes on her as she went into the sitting room.
    * * * *
    He could tell she knew he was watching her. The sassy swing of her butt gave her away.
    Damn, she was something. Clever, too, at least about man-woman things. She had understood his unspoken meanings, voiced her approval. Maybe there was more to her than he suspected.
    Nope, he was wishing again.
    Undoing his tie, he went into the dressing area where he took out both cuff diamonds and the four smaller shirt studs, all made from a necklace Marie Antoinette never purchased.
    His Antoinette diamonds. Priceless.
    In London, an impoverished peer who knew he collected