Tempted by You Read online

  Rosa reached behind her with her free hand, searching for the doorknob. When she couldn’t find it, Teddy reached around her, his arm brushing lightly against her side as he did so, and opened the door for her.

  His face was next to hers; she knew because she felt the heat of his breath against her skin like a lover’s kiss.

  “There’s a bell pull to the left of the door. You can ring down for a maid for assistance. The bedroom is cozy: the bed is centered on the right wall, with two nightstands flanking it. There’s a cushioned bench at the end of the bed and a slipper chair on the right of the window tucked beside the wardrobe.” His voice was a seductive whisper in her ear even though he was giving her instructions on finding her way around.

  She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, barely able to get any words out. “Good night.” Her voice was shaky and a little husky.

  What would he do if she kissed him? She could invite him into her bedroom, but to what end? This wasn’t her. She was always in control of her actions and she never acted brashly, even though she wanted nothing more than to be in the moment with Teddy.

  Before she could regret how the night unfolded, she spun away from him and closed the door behind her. The deep breath she took in did nothing to assuage the state of her emotions.

  She stood with her back to the door for a good ten minutes regaining her equilibrium and taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

  She knew she was in a world of trouble if spending a mere few hours with him gave her this reaction.

  LIGHT SHONE BRIEFLY BEHIND HIM, flashing its orange glow across the carpeted floor as an attendant led Rosa into his family’s private opera box. He stood, dismissed the attendant with a nod, and took her arm to assist her the rest of the way. She wore that faint floral scent from last night that was fresh like a spring rain and as soft as the petals of flowers in bloom. God, the woman drove him mad with lust just by being in close proximity to him.

  The box they occupied went dark as the curtain fell back in place. The wall fixtures set around the stage gave little light, as most had been lowered or snuffed completely while the orchestra set up for the opening act. They were effectively locked together in their own little realm of velvet and gilt. An effective illusion since the rest of the opera attendees need only look up and see them.

  It was usually his brother who attended these events with his mistress at his side, though Rosa was not his mistress, and Teddy would not equate her to anything so base. Others would not be so kind in their assessment when they saw her at his side.

  “Thank you for sending a carriage.” He took her arm and led her to the chair closest to the one he occupied.

  It wasn’t too dark to see that her dress was crimson, the red as deep as the roses that once grew in his mother’s garden. Her hair was coiled and held up with diamond-studded hairpins.

  When she was settled in her seat, he slid his chair marginally closer to hers. She leaned forward to fix the bottom hem of her skirt where it twisted around her ankles. A single gem on the back strand of her necklace graced the upper line of her spine. He wanted to knock it off to the side, so it wasn’t so perfect and glimmering against her skin, tempting him to reach for it and for her. He stopped himself before he made a tentative move to brush his fingers across the bead dangling over her spine. Instead he placed his elbow on the back of her chair and leaned in closer to her.

  “How was your afternoon?” His voice came out deeper and needier than he wanted.

  He wondered if she was aware of the effect she had on him. He’d spent a solid three hours in her company yesterday and he’d not been able to get her out of his head since then. There was no explanation he could think of that would draw him to her like this.

  “Quiet and uneventful.” Her intonation was soft and clear. “Have you found any new information regarding my brother?”

  He felt like an ass for not sending a note to her maid or even having the decency to visit her before returning home to shave and dress before their planned evening together.

  “I had no news today and no luck rooting out so much as a whisper about him. He’s either incredibly secretive and trusts few people, or we do not mingle in the same circles. I’m hoping that some of Nathan’s contacts will have answers to further aid me in my search.”

  “Other than the names of the few friends I gave you, I know no other acquaintances of his.” He didn’t miss the disappointment lacing her words.

  “Does he have a mistress?”

  “Not one that I’m aware of.”

  The way she said that seemed odd, like she was trying to hide something. He did not question her further in that regard, but tucked her reaction away for later consideration.

  Seeing the distress he caused by not having hopeful news, he took her hand in his. “I promised I would find him, and I will. It’ll just take longer than I originally anticipated.”

  “I know. The wait is difficult.”

  They sat close enough that he could make out her every feature. Her collarbone and shoulders were exposed in a bold scooped style at the front and back of the dress. Her skin was white as marble and so flawless that he wanted more than ever to touch her to see if it was as soft as silk. The corset she wore pushed her bosom high to catch the teardrop beads of her onyx necklace.

  He had to pry his eyes from her and forcibly turn to watch the stage. He would not sit up here like a great buffoon gawking openly at a woman he was sure others would assume was a courtesan. She deserved more respect than that.

  “The usher told me this was the last performance of Rigoletto.”

  “My secret is ruined,” he teased.

  “Not ruined, only made more exciting now that I know what we are here to listen to.”

  “So long as you don’t forget about my oboist.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of doing any such thing.”

  Teddy looked out from the box, watching the curtains move as the final pieces were added for the opening scene. Eyes from every direction were on them. He’d never liked the members that made up society, perhaps because he believed a man should do more with his time than play the games society was thick with. Sometimes it baffled him that he wanted to play his newest pieces for them. A necessary evil when one was a composer.

  “Is this opera a favorite of yours?” she asked.

  “Not a favorite, but I do enjoy some of the music.” He was only here to listen to the oboist. The man was apparently well accomplished on his instrument. “Overall, though, I find the orchestration lacks depth, and disappoints during the crisis moments.”

  “The instrumentation is not designed to add to the story, but to support the singers. I think the lyrics for the most part would be lost amidst heavy orchestral interpretation. The balance works well for the operatic solos.”

  “I have always preferred orchestral works to operas. Perhaps because I am not in the business of writing operas.”

  It impressed him that she obviously knew music well enough to defend what she liked: a connoisseur in her own right.

  “Do you find the premise for the opera romantic?” he asked, wondering what exactly she liked about it.

  “Romantic?” She laughed quietly enough that it did not draw eyes their way. He wondered if she knew they were under social scrutiny.

  “You say that as if you think otherwise.”

  “There is no real romance in Rigoletto. I have lived through my own hardships and even tragedy. What use do I have for others’ sorrows, even in the form of an opera?”

  Once again her blunt approach and honesty was refreshing. He wished he could make her forget the tragedy that had befallen her, erase the pain he’d seen in her expression last night as she’d revealed small bits about her past.

  She gave a wistful sigh. “Besides, the tenor in this story is far too cruel to be considered romantic. He doesn’t care that he’s behind the demise of all his mistresses.”

  “I find it amusing that the characters in operas alwa
ys bring about their own deaths,” he said.

  “The sadness is almost overwhelming and to think it’s all due to the foolish naïveté of a young maid who knows naught of the evils of the world. I never thought her character deserved the tragedy that befell her.”

  “You’re a romantic, Rosa.”

  She laughed again, this time louder and drawing the attention of those sitting nearest them. He gave those patrons a bored glare and didn’t let up until they turned away first.

  The curtains drew back, forestalling any further conversation. The first act opened with the palace setting and the Duke of Mantua marching out in front of the audience to sing of his conquests.

  By the second act, Rosa grasped the edge of his jacket and tugged him closer so he would lean toward her ear. “Your oboist doesn’t have enough of a part to be fairly judged.”

  “I was aware of that before we arrived.” His lips were close enough to her ear that if he desired he could press a kiss there. He knew that the observers would think nothing untoward, assuming that they were whispering about the performance. As much as he wanted to take the next step, he held back.

  “I need someone who has control over his instrument, not someone demanding to be heard.”

  She turned her head to the side so they were face-to-face. He couldn’t stop himself from sliding his fingers over the little bone at her nape as he draped his arm over the back of her chair. She didn’t lean away from him, which told him precisely what he needed to know: She was receptive to his touch.

  Everything in his body stilled. Her skin was just as he imagined. Soft as silk. And he wanted to strip her bare, and feel every inch of her until he’d uncovered her most intimate secrets.

  “You have me most intrigued with this piece you’re working on.”

  What would she say if he told her he found her completely enthralling and fascinating, and the furthest things from his mind right now were the oboist and his concerto? Instead, he found himself asking, “Will you stay the night with me, Rosa?”

  She sucked in a surprised breath. “We have already discussed the nature of our friendship.”

  He cupped her nape with his hand, his fingers gliding along the pins holding up her elaborate curled hairstyle. “There are many types of friends.”

  “What is it you really want from me, de Burgh? More than my company, obviously, but do you really need my input on whatever it is you’re working on?”

  “We have an agreement I will honor, Rosa. We also agreed that you would address me by my given name.”

  Fingers reaching out, she found his chest and slipped her hand over the knot in his necktie. Her palm was warm. And her touch made him desperate to whisk her away from the prying eyes around them.

  “Yes, but that was before you propositioned me, Teddy. I’m not so naïve as to fall for seeing your etchings, not even for the clear reason making a request of that nature ludicrous and impossible.”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle. It was endearing that she could make a joke of her blindness. “That is something my brother is more likely to utter. Give me one night of your company.”

  Did she not feel the fire burning strong between them? Could she not taste the desire coating the air, drugging them into sensual intoxication? He knew he was not alone in feeling the attraction.

  “And what will one night entail?” she asked.

  “I want to hear you play again.”

  “Do you only seek a muse, de Burgh?”

  “I enjoy your company.”

  Her breath hitched, the sound nearly imperceptible, but he caught it nonetheless.

  “Have you heard enough of your oboist?”

  “Yes.” And before she could ask any more questions, Teddy rose from his seat and took her arm. Stepping away from the balcony edge, he pulled them toward the curtained area that was hidden from view. She did not pull away, not even when he placed his hand over the small of her back and pulled her flush against his body.

  A low sigh escaped her mouth. He had never wanted a woman more than he did in this moment. He traced the seam of her mouth with his finger before he lowered his lips to hers. He hesitated for only a moment, wanting to give her plenty of opportunity to pull away. Give her the chance to prove she didn’t feel the same way he felt.

  Rising up on her toes, her mouth next to his ear, she whispered in a tone that was so seductive he barely held back from ravaging her mouth. “Are you sure one night will fulfill this yearning we have for each other?”

  The scent of her perfume was an aphrodisiac in and of itself. The loose tendrils of her hair that had escaped her chignon teased at his nose. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore, not where Rosa was concerned. He suspected, however, that one night would not be adequate.

  “Just give me tonight. The rest we can figure out later.”

  WHAT HAD HAPPENED TO HER resolve to remain friends with de Burgh? He had given her a taste of her old life was what had happened, and she craved that as much as she craved the feel of his mouth pressed against her.

  If she stayed the night with him, what would that mean for tomorrow? She’d not been intimate with a man since her fiancé’s death, not that anyone knew that about her. Assumptions made asses out of most men and if they wanted to call her a harlot and courtesan, then so be it.

  She’d only had three patrons since her fall from fame. The first was a painter she sat for day and night for four years, but that arrangement had ended when he’d moved to Paris with his lover. He had preferred the company of other men, but had used her in his paintings since her nudes sold for more than those of his male lovers.

  The second had been short-lived, for she learned quickly that Lord Marsley had a penchant for locking away what he desired most. And she would not be hidden away from her friends by a madman who wanted to keep her in a cage like a songbird.

  Then there had been Lord Hambleworth. Hambleworth had mourned deeply for his dead wife and so their arrangement had been without intimacies. When Hambleworth had passed away, he’d left Rosa with a sizeable income to keep her comfortable for the rest of her days.

  Where exactly did Teddy fit in?

  And why was she practically throwing herself into his arms at every opportunity, enticing him in ways she’d never dared to dream of with any other person?

  He pressed her against the velvet-lined wall. “I’m going to steal a kiss.”

  “You’ll make a spectacle of yourself,” she teased, though her voice came out wistful and needful of his promise.

  “No one can see us.”

  That was her only warning before he pressed one hand to the back of her head, angling her face toward his. The warmth of him enveloped her as he pulled her tighter against his body.

  His lips found hers, the pressure soft yet firm. His teeth nipped, separating her lips. He didn’t delve any deeper, but kissed his way along the column of her neck, his nose tickling a sensitive line along her collarbone.

  Keeping a cool distance from men in the past had never been a problem, but Teddy was proving to be an addiction she could glut herself on. As much as she wanted to detach herself from her feelings and remain on friendly terms, that task was nigh impossible.

  Opening herself up intimately to this man would eventually lead to heartache. Once her brother was found, Teddy would no longer be obligated to help her. He might not even require her assistance with his music.

  Where would that leave her?

  As his teeth found and pulled at the side of her ear above the onyx earrings, her traitorous body arched closer. It had been too long since she’d been touched like this, so long since she’d been desired in such a raw, carnal way in which she wanted to reciprocate each move, each touch.

  As much as she wanted to revel in the heat surrounding her and igniting passions long vanquished by the realities of life, she knew they had to stop before they regretted their actions. Drawing in a deep breath, she forced herself to step to the side, her shoulders brushing against the curtained wall of t
he box.

  It wasn’t that she wanted to leave his arms—quite the opposite—but they needed to cool their heads and their bodies so they could leave with their appearances intact. With her fingers pressed over her fast-beating heart, she took another steadying breath.

  He lifted her hand and kissed her gloved knuckles. “Trust me, Rosa.” He pulled her away from the wall and toward the exit. There was a promise of so much more in the air as they left the opera house.

  ROSALIE CURSED HERSELF AS TEN kinds of fool for going back to Teddy’s town house. The carriage ride had been mostly silent. Teddy hadn’t made any further advances, confusing her more than ever. What had she agreed to tonight? An affair? Or simply to listen to parts of his newest composition? She wasn’t so naïve to think it was only the latter.

  She rubbed her gloved hands together, trying to bring back the warmth after sitting in a cold carriage for an hour. The butler had whisked off somewhere with her overcoat and shawl. Teddy had left her in the anteroom to inform the household staff of their needs, telling her he’d return shortly.

  Rosa brushed her hands over the round table in the middle of the large anteroom. She’d been Nathan’s friend for a long time, but she hadn’t visited his town house often enough to know her way around well, and wouldn’t attempt to find her way without her walking stick or on the arm of another.

  She smoothed her hands over the cool marble surface of the table, wondering which direction she should take. The steady clip of shoes tapping on the hardwood floor approached her.

  “I’ve instructed the staff to have something warm prepared for us, and to ensure my private chambers are heated sufficiently. They’re lighting the braziers even now.” Teddy took her hands between his, rubbing them briskly before taking her by the elbow to lead her down the corridor. “Why didn’t you say you were so cold? I would have taken you straight to the drawing room.”

  She was glad to leave the chilly foyer, as he pulled her deeper into the house. “This is a natural state for me. I’ve never been keen on the winter months.”