Legendary Lover by Susan Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

contentment glowing through their senses as well. Half reclining against the sofa arm, he held her lounging form between his legs, her back against his chest, the silk of her hair brushing his chin, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing a delicate friction on his forearms.
    He'd glanced at the clock on the mantel some time ago, but felt no inclination to move even though the hour was getting late. Most of the guests would be gone by now—perhaps an asset rather than a liability. Although those who remained would be badly in their cups, and unpredictable.
    "I'll send you flowers in the morning," Venus murmured, swiveling enough to gaze up at him. "You definitely deserve them."
    "I was thinking you might like something with emeralds to match your luscious eyes."
    "No wonder you're so much in demand, my dear, sweet, darling Jack."
    "Don't be flirtatious." His voice was gruff.
    " Whyever not?" She twisted around in his arms so she lay against his chest, her back gracefully arched beneath his palms.
    "I know flirtatious women by the score."
    "So?"
    "So—" he took a small breath, not quite certain why he felt nettled "—don't play the coquette."
    "I may want to." She looked at him with a mild query. "Are we going to fight?"
    "We're not fighting," he tautly said.

"Will you make love to me tomorrow, then?"
    He didn't answer immediately, too long conditioned to avoid commitment.
    "Am I not supposed to ask? Is that a male prerogative?"
    "No," he gently said. "No, of course ask, and yes, I will. With the greatest of pleasure."
    "Your place or mine?"
    "Where are you staying?"
    "My family has a house in Belgrave Square. I'm quite alone."
    "No chaperon?"
    Her trill of laughter annoyed him.
    "Not for a very long time, darling. Why would I possibly want or need one?"
    "For propriety's sake, of course."
    "How starchy and prudish you sound, when you make love to all the ladies in the ton under their husbands' noses."
    "It's different for a man."
    "Perhaps in your world. I live very much as I please."
    "And you make love as you please."
    "Hardly a question for you to ask. Did you win your wager, by the way?"
    "It's not my wager."
    "Whose is it?"
    He hesitated. "I'd rather not say."
    "Does it concern me?"
    His hesitation was longer this time. "In a manner of speaking."
    "Then I'd appreciate knowing what I'm involved in."
    "Jesus," he muttered. "Don't ask."
    Pushing away from him, she eased into a seated position. "Tell me so I'll know what everyone is tittering about tomorrow."
    "I thought you did as you pleased."
    "I do. I simply wish to be forearmed."
    "Let's just say you're going to be barraged with admirers."
    "I already am. That's not a problem."
    "With leering admirers."
    "Because of this wager?"
    "I had nothing to do with it."
    "Good God, Jack, stop this unnecessary evasion. Just tell me."
    "There was some question whether you were unassailable."
    "And you disagreed."
    "Yes."
    "Well, you won your wager. Why is that so appalling."
    "It wasn't my wager."
    "Then whose was it? Whom do I have to cut with a scathing look?" she facetiously queried.
    He debated telling her the truth, but she'd be forewarned at least if he told her. "A couple score men at Brookes," he said with a sigh. "It's in the betting book."
    "Along with their friends and acquaintances." Her gaze suddenly turned cool. "And you couldn't resist."
    "I hadn't planned this."
    "Tonight, you mean."
    He had the grace to look discomfited.
    "I know men like you. You'll share the story of your conquest over drinks and cards. How fucking juvenile," she tartly said, swinging her legs over the side of the sofa.
    He reached out to stop her, grasping her arm. "It's not that way."
    "Yes, it is. And I should have known better. But thank you for the excellent fuck. I'll recommend you if anyone asks ." Shaking his hand away, she rose to her feet.
    "I wish you'd let me explain." But he didn't move, because he had no intention of doing anything more than apologize . He'd escaped too many