The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (13 page)

Perplexed he simply stared at Emma. Both thinking of an answer to his own thought provoking question and waiting for her to say something. Instead, she stared right back.

“As amusing as it is to watch the two of you stare with your mouths gaping open, I think it’s time we go to the ball and announce your betrothal, hmm?” Nicholas stepped around Sebastian, hitting him on the back in passing. It jolted Sebastian and he closed his mouth.

Emma lifted an eyebrow.

“Let’s go,” he said a little too gruffly.

“Either you’ve had a little too much whiskey or not enough. What were you two discussing in there?” Emma pointed back to the study. Her measly attempt at conversation made Sebastian’s mood darker.

Ignoring her question for a good five seconds, he grabbed his hat and offered his arm. “Nothing at all, my dear. Shall we?”

Chapter Twelve

The ball was magnificent. Animated people were talking and drinking in every corner of the room. Candles lit the would-be dark corridors, most likely trying to deter young couples from the path of ruination. Gowns of silk and lace. Ladies in scandalous clothing with low cut dresses fanned themselves as men teased and flirted. Everyone seemed to sparkle in the night. In fact, everything seemed more alive. She felt more alive, then again, she mustn’t let her thoughts or her heart get ahead of matters. She was here to announce a fake engagement, and then the real work would begin.

She didn’t even see Sebastian approach. “Are you ready to start some rumors?”

Laughing, she turned slowly. Sebastian was dressed impeccably in white and black. His wavy blond hair fell perfectly over his left eye. If she hadn’t known his identity, she would think him rather rakish tonight. He licked his lips and leaned in.

Her heart nearly stopped. Eyes blue and piercing bore into her.

“We might have a little fun before the announcement, let the tongues wag so to speak. What do you think, dear?” His gloved hand was outstretched.

It felt like the story in the Bible in which the serpent told Eve it was
only one bite
.

But this was the Duke of Tempest. He was known for his manners, his impeccable reputation. So why did his touch, his challenge, make her feel wicked all the way down to her toes?

Well, might as well go down with him.

Every delicious piece of him.

Emma!
she scolded herself.

She took his hand and allowed him to lead her into the middle of the dance floor.

“A waltz.” His breath teased the side of her face.

Oh, she was in trouble. Why did everything have to do with dancing? Her past seemed to haunt her with every step she took. In Sebastian’s arms she felt stronger, more capable of facing the monsters that threatened to destroy her at such a young age. What should be a fairy tale felt like a nightmare. Conflicting emotions pounded in her. One minute she was scandalized by the way her body responded to his, the next she was weak with fear.

Twice she had attempted to dance with this man, and both times she had felt ready to faint from the emotional turmoil of it all. Earlier in the evening Sebastian had asked if she was prepared to dance in front of the
ton
. Saying it would be absolutely necessary for them to dance together in order to push the gossip along. Arguing seemed awkward, considering she hadn’t wanted to explain her aversion to any sort of dancing. It would do neither of them any favors for her to discuss her blatant fear and anger associated with the activity. So she braced herself for what needed to be done and tried to be herself as he led her onto the floor.

Sebastian smiled down at her and winked.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

Her breath quickened as he pulled her closer. Had they danced a waltz before? In answer, his hand moved dangerously close to her bottom. No, she would have remembered
that
hand. That hand…his touch.

The music hadn’t yet started. She still had time to move away. Chest constricting, she began to panic. Dancing brought the memories back, the pain.

“Remember to stay close. We are, after all, in love.” His eyes held wicked intent.

Oh, the things his grandmother would assume about her tonight. It would be amusing if not so terribly heart wrenching. The duchess would more than likely hunt her down with a fire poker after they renounce the engagement.

“Emma.”

“Hmm?” Panicked, she began looking for both the duchess and all sharp objects, just in case word got out tonight that they were pulling the wool over the entirety of the
ton
.

Sebastian brought his hand up to her jaw and traced it. “Nobody’s going to believe you if you don’t relax.”

Right, relax, when sin incarnate is touching my face.

“That’s it,” Sebastian soothed, his breath tangling with hers. His gaze locked on her lips.

Oh, no.

“You’re beautiful.” The strain of his voice was apparent.

Emma sucked in her breath as Sebastian pulled her even closer. The room faded away. It was just them. She couldn’t look away if she tried. His smile held no smugness, no self-satisfied grin. No, he was pleased. Enjoying himself, enjoying the moment. His dimples lit up his already handsome face.

In a moment of sheer bravery and some might say idiocy, Emma lifted her hand to cup his smooth jaw. He shuddered under her touch.

And then bent his head and brushed the lightest of kisses across her lips.

It was a reverent kiss. One Emma would have liked to repeat.

If the music hadn’t stopped.

She felt herself flush.

Sebastian, bless him, didn’t even seem to notice. She gulped, suddenly nervous about all the attention. The ramifications of what they were doing came back full force, nearly sending her into a frenzied panic.

“Sebastian…” she whispered. He hadn’t let her go, his gaze was immobile.

“Hmm?” he said.

“Everyone’s watching.”

“Of course they are.” He continued to dance as if the music hadn’t stopped.

“Sebastian,” Emma said, this time a little louder.

He shook his head as if trying to wake up from a trance and looked around the room. His throat cleared as he blushed nervously, grasped at her hand, and led her to the grand staircase.

The room was as silent as death.

Emma figured that even if the room were set on fire, the entirety of the
ton
would wait for whatever announcement the duke had to make.

Each step her dainty toes took across the shiny marble staircase resounded like another nail in her coffin, thanks to the vivid picture she had of the duchess crying like a wild woman and chasing her through the streets of London. This wasn’t entirely fair, considering she was such a nice lady, albeit a tad extreme in her methods.

Emma was sweating by the time a footman handed her a glass of champagne. Her hands shook as she brought the cool bubbly liquid up to her lips. Crowds began gathering at the foot of the stairs, all watching in anticipation for the impending announcement. Did that kiss count as a girl being ruined? Because, although it had been short and sweet, it had nearly brought her to her knees. Kisses like that got girls into compromising situations, and kisses like that made girls forget everything they’d learned in church. Shuddering, she tried to cross her arms with the champagne still in her hands.

Sebastian lifted his glass. The room was already silent; there wasn’t any need for him to draw more attention. In that moment, he looked every bit the aristocrat he was, and Emma chastised herself again for daydreaming about the man. He was not for her. And she had the unfortunate task of picking out the perfect woman for him.

“I would like to announce…” Sebastian’s commanding voice took captive the entire room. Even Emma felt faint with anticipation, and she already knew what he was going to say. “…my engagement to Miss Emma Gates!” Glass still raised, he turned and kissed her full on the mouth before she had time to protest.

The room erupted with shouts of praise, shock, and applause. Emma had no choice but to act pleased with the kiss. It was a warm, inviting, and haunting kiss, which she had no right to enjoy, considering she was not his true fiancée.

When Sebastian pulled away and winked, Emma took the chance to throw back the entire contents of her flute. Guilt pervaded her when she saw Nicholas frown, so she grabbed for another glass. The nerve of the man! What was his goal, to ruin her for any other man? Even husbands and wives did not engage in such physical affection. Well, most husbands and wives, excluding Nicholas and Sara of course.

Nicolas glared at her again as she shakily lifted the flute to her lips. He deserved everything he received. After all, this was his fault. If he hadn’t thrown them to the wolves earlier that week, they wouldn’t have to go to such desperate lengths.

So, Emma threw back the contents of the glass and did a mock curtsy. She heard Nicholas swear before he grabbed her by the arm and led her away from Sebastian, who was already deep in conversation with the duchess. So actually, Nicholas was saving her from having to lie again to the woman who would inevitably be hunting her later in the Season.

“What?” she snapped, pulling her arm free.

“What in the—”

“Language,” Sara scolded, coming along side him.

“But I didn’t say any—”

“You were going to.” She patted him on the shoulder and rescued Emma.

Emma couldn’t stop herself from turning around and sticking out her tongue. Nicholas looked like he was ready to charge after her, but Lady Fenton stood in the way, grasping at the lapels of his coat and pulling him into a joyful hug, obviously pleased with the recent news.

Once Emma and Sara were safely out of harm’s way, or at least enough out of the way so people wouldn’t disturb their private conversation, Sara asked, “Did you know he was going to kiss you?”

Emma felt the need to lie.

“Of course. It was all part of our plan. Brilliant, wasn’t it?” She nervously licked her lips. But it was useless. The sensation of Sebastian’s lips on hers was something her treacherous body would never let her forget.

“If you say so.” Sara didn’t sound convinced.

“I do.” Emma flashed a brilliant smile, but felt anything but brilliant. Frazzled? Yes. Confused? Maybe. And dare she admit a little irritated that she had managed to get herself kissed three times by the one man she couldn’t keep. The sooner they were done with the ruse, the better. All she needed to do was survive the house party. How hard could that be?

Chapter Thirteen

Sebastian threw himself across his large bed and sighed. Things had gotten out of hand extremely fast. If Emma hadn’t continued to badger him, he would have most likely continued kissing her into oblivion not caring who watched.

He hadn’t actually ruined her. Had he?

No, it was just a kiss. Only a soft kiss.

You enjoyed it.

He threw a pillow against the wall.

No I didn’t.

And now he was arguing with himself. Trying to convince his body it wasn’t completely entranced, trying to cool the blood running like fire through his veins. He wanted
her
.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Sir?” His valet stepped inside the doors.

“What?” he snapped.

“A gentleman is here to see you. I put him in the study.”

“A gentleman? At midnight? Is here to see me? Has Nicholas shot someone I’m not aware of?” Sebastian pushed off the bed, noticing how the corners of his valet’s mouth lifted into an almost smile. Servants were told not to smile, but the angel duke liked to have his happy.

“Well, best go see what it’s about.”

The house was dark, all except the light that was still on in the study. He walked in and shut the door.

“Tempest.”

“Rawlings.” He sat opposite the man and waited for whatever news he felt the need to bring. “Is there a particular reason you felt the need to come to Renwicks’ home so late into the evening? What is it that could not wait until the normal calling hours?”

Rawlings grinned. “Oh, your grace, I doubt this news will be better in the day time.”

“Well?” Sebastian was irritated. “Let’s have it then.”

Rawlings grinned smugly. It never ceased to amaze Sebastian how much his old friend had changed. They had been best of friends back at Eton. Back before the incident. Rawlings had been the one person Sebastian could rely on, until Sebastian decided to reject all things sinful and selfish, driving a wedge between the two. Sebastian was forever to be known as the angel, leaving Rawlings the appropriate title of demon.

“It appears there has been some confusion regarding your announcement this night.” Rawlings inspected his perfectly manicured fingernails before adding, “Imagine my surprise when I heard the angel duke was using a young girl for his own advantage. Shocking, don’t you think?”

Sebastian fought the urge to choke the smug grin right off his face. “Are you threatening me? It's impossible you would be privy to any of that information.”