Twice the Temptation Read Free Page B

heard his approach seconds before the length of his shadow crept like a sinister fog across the red stones of the terrace. The dark blanketed her, forcing her to adjust her vision to the nebulous gray of the London night. A deep breath helped to calm her nerves as she readied herself for the role of the guileless seductress.
    His scent preceded him by a good dozen feet, just as overpowering and citrusy as she remembered from their introduction a quarter hour ago. It hadn’t taken him long to come. In the past seven months, men had proven to be singularly predictable creatures, never once veering far from their anticipated path.
    Although there had been some like Lord Jacobsen, who had not followed her to the terrace. He and Miss Claremont had wed two months gone. Unfortunately, the viscount had turned out to be the exception and not the rule.
    For Lord Landry, Catherine had retained a gossamer thread of hope that he’d prove to be another Lord Jacobsen—if not for Miss North’s sake alone. Not once during their conversation had his gaze wandered to inspect other parts of her person—a common occurrence with many of the gentlemen in the ton . Here is a man who might very well be steadfast and true , she’d thought when she’d cast her lure in the form of a come hither smile over her shoulder and sauntered away, her hips swaying that age-old invitation.
    His presence here dashed her hopes clean and proper. The only manner in which Lord Landry separated himself from the others was his adroitness at hiding it—his perfidious ways. On the side of full knowledge and fairness—the side she championed—another young lady would be spared a life of misery a philandering husband would bring. It mattered naught that Catherine’s faith in men had been dealt yet another blow.
    Just as his shadow enveloped her whole, she started and spun on her heels, facing him with her hand splayed at the base of her throat. A ragged expulsion of air passed her lips in feigned surprise.
    “Oh Lord Landry, ’tis you. You gave me quite a fright. I thought myself quite alone out here.” While her acting talents would still be considered mediocre at best, they were sufficient to the task of exposing a man’s true character.
    He stepped closer. Clad in a hunter-green dress coat tailored to mold his lean frame and broad shoulders, he was handsome if one liked fair hair and refined aristocratic features. She did not. They now stood several arm lengths apart. With a bat of her lashes, he would come closer still. But Olivia hadn’t yet given the signal. Catherine would need to stall.
    “You really should not come out here unescorted.” If his gaze hadn’t gone directly to her décolletage, his solicitous tone might have convinced her his concern was for her safety. But as with many men in the past who’d stripped her bare with their eyes, the glint in the viscount’s told her he had already dispensed with her corset and was now mentally divesting her of her chemise.
    Catherine quelled the urge to cover herself and call him on his hypocrisy. The only person she need concern herself with at the ball that evening were faithless men like him. Instead, she forced a laugh, simple and unaffected. “There is no danger out here, my lord.”
    A predatory smile curved the viscount’s mouth. He advanced another step toward her. “Perhaps you are right. But a lady as comely as yourself alone in the dark might give a gentleman certain ideas.”
    But only a cad would act on them. Before the temptation to voice her thoughts aloud overtook her, the signal came—the almost imperceptible squeak of a door—to indicate all the players were in place. It was time to charm with deliberate intent.
    “My lord, if I wasn’t aware of your complete and utter devotion to Miss North, I would think that you are making improper overtures toward me.” For the benefit of anyone else who might stumble upon the scene, Catherine made certain she sounded properly affronted,