Let's Misbehave Read online

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  She blew him a kiss before he turned and walked away, leaving her alone with Sebastian, the two of them motionless among a sea of dancers. She met his bright cerulean eyes with a defiant gaze of her own. Then he took her in his arms and swirled her back onto the crowded dance floor.

  “You and I have no unresolved business. I’m grateful you got me away from that terrible scene with Roland, but I thought I made it clear I didn’t want to see you again.”

  “You did. I understand that you don’t want to see me again, but I had to see you. I made a mistake. I was terribly offensive, and I owe you an apology.”

  “Accepted,” she said stiffly.

  The pace of the music quickened. He spun her away and she followed his lead. As she twisted back against him, their bodies melted together, swaying in perfect unison.

  A thrill quivered through her. He was a skilled dancer, his athletic frame moving with sensual litheness through the demanding steps of the tango, a world away from the staid swaying of their first dance. If this was how he moved on a dance floor, she could only imagine what he would be capable of in bed.

  She shut her eyes. Better not to go there. Look at what a mess she’d already made with thoughts like these.

  Sebastian whirled her around the dance floor, one hand in the small of her back, holding her close. His hand seared where it touched the bare skin exposed by the dramatically low-cut back of her pale blue dress.

  “There is something else I want.” He bent his lips to her ear, his low voice sending shivers down her spine. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” But even as she spoke, she knew she would do anything he wanted. With his body pressed against hers, she couldn’t resist him. His pace slowed in time to the music, languorous and seductive now. He thrust a leg between her thighs, catching her around the waist as her balance shifted. Coiling her knee around his leg, she held him close a moment longer than necessary. His lips curved in a laconic smile. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “I’m working this weekend. I’m only free on Monday.” Three whole days away. Three long days to try to regain her senses and resist this sweet temptation to entice him into iniquity, a temptation now fuelled as much by her own need as by any altruistic urge to help him release his stifled emotions.

  His hand was firm on the hollow of her back as he dipped her. She gazed up at him, helpless in his compelling gaze.

  “Monday, then.” He placed her back on her feet and let go.

  As he strode from the dance floor, the air whooshed back into her lungs. She had just done the one thing she had sworn never to do. She had allowed someone else to tell her what to do. But for just this one moment she was so happy, she didn’t care.

  James returned, wrapping his arms about her. She shrugged free. She had no more desire to dance, or do anything else, with James.

  “Another time.” She headed straight up the stairs to the coat check and the street door, not even bothering to tell Marsha she was going home.

  ***

  Sebastian knocked on her door promptly at eight o’clock on Monday night. He’d had three days to overcome this madness, the delightful, irresistible, obsessive madness that had driven him to search the jazz clubs of London for her.

  And when he’d found her, apologising hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been able to let her go.

  Three days he’d had to resist this compulsion, yet the temptation to accept what she’d once so willingly offered was stronger than ever.

  She opened the door. Her smile, slow and sensual, and definitely predatory, stirred the smouldering desire in his groin.

  “You look breath-taking.” He held out a pale pink rose.

  She took it with a dimpling smile and turned back into the flat. She wore a hip-waisted dress of rose-coloured crêpe-de-Chine that rustled about her as she moved.

  “Would you like a drink before we go?” She stepped aside to let him in.

  “No, thank you.” He needed to take her somewhere public. Left alone with her for any length of time, his self-control wouldn’t long endure. And he wanted it to endure, needed it to.

  She broke off the stem of the rose, stuck a hairpin through it, and attached it at the base of her low cut neckline, drawing his eyes, inevitably, to her cleavage. As perhaps the minx had intended.

  Despite the modish corset she wore to flatten her figure, the swell of her breasts was tantalisingly obvious, and his breath caught with anticipation.

  She handed him the fawn-coloured suede coat that lay across the back of an armchair, and he helped her into it. Once she’d clipped the side fastening, she turned to face him, her gaze bold and knowing. “I’m ready.”

  He offered her his arm as they descended the stairs. Even through the layers of clothing between them, the pressure of her hand on his arm sent shock waves through him. No woman had ever affected him this way before.

  Especially not Lilly.

  He held the door for her to climb into his sports car. This time he grinned when she so obviously stretched out her legs for his view. Gabrielle giggled, a girlish sound at odds with her provocative behaviour.

  He drove faster than usual, not from any desire to show off for her, but because he was in an ebullient mood. He sneaked a look at Gabrielle.

  Once again, she had her eyes closed, her face lifted to the sting of the wind. Her bobbed hair whipped across her face, but she appeared impervious, her expression ecstatic.

  He envied her, wanted so badly to let go of his inhibitions and experience the same elation. Inspired to recklessness by her uninhibited joy, he put his foot flat on the accelerator and felt the exhilarating lift as the vehicle gained speed.

  He drove towards Chelsea, turning into Cheyne Walk. Then at last, he turned into a side road and parked. Gabrielle opened her eyes. “Where are we?”

  “I’m taking you to a new restaurant.”

  “Here?” She glanced down the row of neat terrace houses.

  He smiled. “Yes, here.”

  They strolled arm-in-arm through the deepening twilight, the river glistening silver beside them. They chatted, making easy conversation until they reached Chelsea Wharf. A boat drifted gently on the outgoing tide beside the wharf, its decks alive with music and light, and Gabrielle turned eyes bright with excitement to him. “This is the restaurant?”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious, stinging him to life. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt so excited.

  They crossed he swaying gangplank onto the boat where a waiter dressed in a sailor’s hat led them through the vast cabin. An American Negro band played lively Dixieland jazz to the empty dance floor.

  The waiter seated them at a sheltered table on the aft deck. It was quieter here, away from the music. Gabrielle slipped out of her coat and raised her arms to the sultry night sky, as though exulting in the feel of the air on her skin. A sharp thrill shot through him. Not since his older brother left for the trenches had Sebastian met anyone who savoured every moment of being alive as much as Gabrielle did.

  They ordered seafood and champagne, and talked as they waited for their food, conversation flowing between them as light and easy as air, while all the while the air hummed around them, heavy with promise.

  ***

  After dinner, they sipped Manhattans and listened to the music. Lights danced on the surface of the Thames, as magical as the fragile bubble that seemed to encase them.

  How she had ever thought Sebastian was boring, Gabrielle didn’t know. He was witty and intelligent, with a wicked sense of humour. Her usual restless energy deserted her. She wanted nothing more than to sit here enjoying the soft sway of the boat and drown in the azure pools of Sebastian’s eyes.

  If only this night need never end—but she knew too well that the good things in life never lasted. Which was why you had to grab them when you found them. A ray of sunshine, a favourite song, a desirable man.

  “Have you ever brought your fiancée here?” She didn’t know why she
asked, and of course, Sebastian frowned and the bubble burst.

  He leaned across the table to light the cigarette she placed in her elegant silver cigarette holder. “This is not the sort of place the people I know would frequent.” Beneath the stiffness of his tone she sensed a longing.

  “So it’s a safe place to bring me, then?”

  He responded to her teasing with a wicked glint in his eyes.

  “Do you love her?” She blew a lazy smoke ring into the air, careful not to miss his expression when he answered.

  Sebastian shrugged. “Love doesn’t enter into it. Lilly is from a well-connected family, and she has lived a quiet life. She will make the ideal politician’s wife.” His expression spoke volumes.

  “That’s not what you want, is it?”

  He was so long answering, she wasn’t sure he would.

  “No, it’s not what I want.”

  She wondered if it was he career he didn’t want, or the wife who’d been chosen for him. Or both.

  She waited as he searched for the words to explain.

  “My father is a politician.”

  “Lords or Commons?”

  “Commons. He’s only a minor baron. He would like me to follow in his footsteps. Harrow to Cambridge to Westminster. He has my life mapped out for me.”

  “Aren’t you a little young to be going into the House?”

  “It’s never too early to start preparing.” They sounded like words he’d learned by rote, lacking conviction. “First, the right education, then the right marriage and connections, and in a few years’ time I’ll be ready to stand.”

  Gabrielle arched an eyebrow at him. “So you’re the oldest son?”

  “I am now. My brother died in Flanders.”

  “I lost my father to the same stupid war.” She shivered.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No,” she said. “I’d like to dance.”

  There were other couples on the dance floor now. They moved together to the music, out of time to the lively beat, with a hair’s breadth of space between their bodies. The world around them faded, and they were alone, bound by the magic of the music.

  She should not be doing this.

  The devil that drove her had fallen silent, allowing her better judgment to be heard.

  Seducing Sebastian was wrong. He was a good man, an honest man. She should not trifle with his feelings. Or her own.

  Then he bent his lips to her neck and their soft touch drove away her ability to think. He traced a line of hot kisses down the sensitive pale skin of her throat, and she breathed in the scent of him, an erotic mix of musky aftershave and his own warm, masculine smell.

  She managed to draw back from his touch. “Sebastian, we can’t…We’re in public.”

  His lips closed the distance to hers for a kiss that was firm without being forceful, and surprisingly full of fire.

  Her desire matched his. She responded, playfully nipping his lower lip between her teeth. Sebastian’s touch was immeasurably different from that of any other man she’d known. The barest caress of his fingers was molten lava against her skin, igniting waves of awareness through her. She pushed her body up against his, rubbing herself against him. His hands slid down to her buttocks, pulling her closer so she could feel the strength of his arousal.

  His tongue probed between her lips, delving into her mouth. He tasted darkly sinful, so seductive that she never wanted the kiss to end.

  And so dangerous she forgot where they were.

  Seducing Sebastian was wrong, but she couldn’t stop now. The seducer had become the seduced.

  Chapter Four

  Desire thrilled through Sebastian, driving him past all his careful boundaries. It was as if a dam wall inside of him had burst, releasing all the emotions and desires he’d suppressed for so long.

  In the short time he’d spent with her, Gabrielle had reminded him there was joy to be had in being alive. She’d reminded him how it felt to be happy.

  She whispered in his ear, her voice low and hypnotic. “You’re engaged. If we don’t stop this now, we never will.”

  He hadn’t forgotten. But Lilly’s existence changed nothing. Tonight was about him, taking what he wanted for perhaps the first and last time.

  Fire ignited in his belly, spreading outwards. He wanted Gabrielle beyond reason and thought. He no longer cared they were in public. He wanted more. He wanted all of her.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  He held her close as he paid the bill, then led her back up the gangplank. The summer’s night had grown chilly. He helped her on with her coat, raising the fox fur collar to cover her delicate pale neck. His fingers grazed the tender skin of her throat, re-tracing the path his lips had taken. She turned her face into his palm, leaning into him, hungry, impatient, exquisite.

  He had to get her home. Now. Before he lost all control.

  They walked briskly back to Danvers Street through the velvet darkness. Instead of heading to his car, Sebastian climbed the steps to a front door halfway along the terrace.

  “This is where you live?”

  “Yes.” This was where he planned to bring his bride after their honeymoon. Sebastian was momentarily apprehensive. He was about to make love with a woman he hardly knew. A woman who made him want things he shouldn’t.

  She turned to look at him, eyes so dark in the silver moonlight they appeared black. Her bow mouth was a temptation he couldn’t resist a moment longer. He groaned as he took possession of that mouth.

  “Inside!” Her voice was breathless. She was as caught up in this spell as he was.

  He fumbled with the key, distracted by the pressure of her body against his back. He prayed none of the neighbours were still awake and watching.

  As soon as they were inside, with the door firmly shut between them and the rest of the world, he tore her coat off, letting it pool in a heap at their feet as he pressed her up against the wall, raining hot kisses down on her, on her neck, on her shoulders.

  Her hands were on his shoulders, tugging off his jacket, slipping off his suspenders, lifting his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. Her cool hands ran lightly over the skin of his stomach, circling round to his back to cling to him.

  His frenzy heightened. He could wait no longer. His hands slid beneath her dress, lifting. The skin of her thighs was silky-smooth to his touch. She wore knickers, lightweight and sheer. He yanked them over her hips, and they slithered down her legs.

  Then he slid his hand between her legs and she gasped. He stroked her nub, her body arching against his, rocking into his hand. Encouraged, he shoved his fingers inside her, probing. She was moist, hot, and so deliciously tight that his erection grew impossibly harder.

  He wanted to taste her, wanted to savour the moment, but his urgency was too great. So was hers. She ripped at the buttons of his trousers, yanking them down, and the supple hardness of his erection leapt free.

  She moaned.

  His hands curved around her bare buttocks, lifting her, pinning her up against the wall. He closed his eyes, pushing his naked flesh up against hers, breathing in her scent as he thrust into her.

  ***

  Dawn filtered cold grey light through the curtains. Gabrielle lay, face cushioned on her forearm, and watched Sebastian sleep, the lines of his face relaxed in sleep as they never were in waking.

  A few short days ago she would not have believed the mischief and fire in him, masked as it was by his serious demeanour. She liked this new side of him, the one she’d suspected lay beneath the careful surface.

  How long would it last, though? How long would he express his true self before he sacrificed himself to duty and convention?

  Careful not to wake him, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, reaching to pick up her discarded clothing from the floor: knickers and chemise, stockings and garters, and the side-lacing bodice that kept her figure flat and stylish.

  “I hope you’re not planning to put any of that back on.” His voice
was still hoarse with sleep. His arms snaked around her, reeling her back onto the bed. She rolled with him, laughing, turning her swollen lips towards his, hungry for more.

  “I should go,” she whispered at last, breaking free from his kiss.

  “Not yet. I want you to spend the day with me.”

  She pulled away. There was more at stake now than their discovery. Eager as she was for a repeat of their night’s lovemaking, she had to make her position clear.

  Sebastian was not a man who trifled with women. She could not let him read more into their relationship than the night of passion it had been.

  “I need to know what your intentions are.” She kept her tone light.

  “At this late stage? I would have thought I’d made that pretty obvious last night.”

  “What I mean is, I don’t want you getting any ideas about this. This is just a bit of fun. A couple of days, no more, and I’ll be gone. And when I walk away, that’ll be the end of it.” Her voice sounded firm and convincing to her own ears, but she felt a sudden stab of doubt.

  His usually bright eyes were inscrutable. “I understand,” he said. “But I plan to have a whole lot more fun before you go.”

  Another man would have said, ‘before I let you go.’ As she slid the sheet off his naked body, the fleeting thought occurred that she might not want to leave after all. The pale light illuminated his broad shoulders and the smooth contours of his torso. She caught her breath at the beauty of him.

  She ran playful fingers over his chest, slowly spiralling downwards. He groaned. She wrapped her hands around his shaft, beginning to stroke and rub. She had done this before, knew how to please a man, but she had never wanted to give pleasure to anyone as she wanted to with Sebastian. He deserved pleasure more than anyone she knew.

  He groaned again, closing his eyes against the building tension. She leaned over him, allowing the short fronds of her bobbed hair to brush against the taut muscles of his stomach, and took him in her mouth. He moaned and shifted beneath her, the sound of his pleasure sending tingles to her nerve ends.

  Slowly she increased the pace of her movements, and he moved with her, thrusting in a rhythm more primitive than any dance. His body pulled taut with the tension, and she changed tactic, sliding her tongue over his engorged tip, licking and teasing. He shuddered, so close to the edge of control, yet still not crossing that implacable barrier.