She frowned as well, and her steps faltered. “There is a new Lady Renwick, you know.” She purposely ignored his question.
“Yes, but you are still Lady Renwick, at least in my eyes.” His gaze sharpened as he scrutinized her. “Unless you are allowing me the privilege of calling you Julia.”
The sound of her name dropping from his lips gave her far too much pleasure. “If I were to allow you to call me by my given name, then surely we should be on a more…intimate level with each other.”
He lifted a dark brow, and her stomach fluttered. He was incredibly arrogant, which she found incredibly arousing. “Intimate level, hmm? Now that intrigues me.”
“Does it, my lord?” He spun her in a quick circle, the move so sudden she grew dizzy, and she wondered if he’d done it on purpose.
“If we’re moving our friendship to a more intimate level, as you called it, then the least you could do is call me Garrett.” He dipped his head close, his mouth hovering just above her ear. “Hardly anyone calls me by my first name anymore.”
A quiver moved through her entire body at his husky voice, his breath stirring the hair at her temple. He lifted his head. His eyes were dark, his expression predatory, as if he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her out of the room.
Triumph surged through her. She hadn’t been mistaken. The attraction between them wasn’t one-sided. He wanted her.
But could she seduce the renowned seducer?
She’d known Bedingfield since he was a young man, when he was just Garrett Walker, heir to his father’s title. The late earl and her husband had been friends, and their families had often entertained together. She remembered Garrett as a good-looking boy, smart and serious when needed, as well as charming, with a slight mischievous streak.
Attractive then, he’d grown into a man who exuded a raw sensuality. A certain knowledge lingered in his eyes, the way he moved, the way he spoke. Rumors abounded about his many conquests, though there had never been any real confirmation, at least not from the little gossip she’d heard. He chose his lovers discreetly and most likely left them more than well satisfied.
“You used to call me Garrett,” he continued when she hadn’t answered. “Quite often, if I remember correctly, when you and your husband would visit our country house for the summer.”
“Well, yes. But it wouldn’t be proper to take such liberties in public.” Not only would it not be proper, but she wanted to see Garrett’s reaction.
“Always polite, aren’t you, Julia?” He slid his hand from her waist to trail it down her back in a soothing gesture, and her breath lodged in her throat. “I apologize if I went too far.”
“No.” She shook her head, curling tendrils of hair bouncing against her cheeks. “There’s no need for an apology.”
His other hand tightened about hers, and he slowed his steps. “Come with me.”
“What?”
“Come with me. Please.” He smiled. “I rarely beg, so consider yourself special.”
“Bedingfield, I don’t know what you’re about, but—”
“Please.” His smile disappeared. Ravenous lust flared in his eyes, shimmered off his tense body in waves that wrapped all around her, suffusing her with heat and longing.
“All right.” Her voice trembled the slightest bit, and she silently cursed her nervousness. “I wanted to speak to you regarding a private matter anyway—”
A little gasp escaped when he jerked on her hand and led her through the crowd. He escorted her off the dance floor and toward the open doors to the terrace. She hurried to keep up with his long strides, and when they went outside, the late-spring breeze cooled her skin.
Lit with a few torches and a smattering of candles on the round tables, the space was practically deserted, for the evening had just begun.
Bedingfield didn’t linger but took her down the stairs and into the garden, choosing a meandering path that grew darker with every step. Beneath their feet, the gravel walkway crunched, and the leaves of the trees rattled with the breeze.
She came to a complete stop, digging her slippered feet into the ground so he had no choice but to stop as well. “Where are you taking me?”
He turned to look at her, his sharp features defined by moonlight. The silvery glow spilled across his skin, casting him partly in shadow and giving him an aura of mystery. Her breath lodged in her throat at his dark beauty, and he squeezed her hand gently as if to soothe her. Yet his touch didn’t soothe. It made her heart beat faster, her nipples tingle and the area between her legs dampen. Her lips parted, she was finally ready to ask the daring question that had haunted her all night, but he spoke first.
“I wanted to be alone with you.” One tug of his hand and she toppled toward him. She reached out to steady herself and landed with her hands on his firm chest and her fingers curling into the fine material of his jacket. His arm came around her waist, and he hauled her close. So close she could feel the pounding of his heart beneath her hands and see the moonlight glinting in his eyes.
“Funny, since I wanted the same thing.” When she saw his pleasant surprise, triumph surged over her bold confession. Surely he was the one who approached the ladies first. Had he ever had a woman solicit an affair from him before? Was she the first?
Or perhaps he wasn’t interested after all. Might she have read his intentions incorrectly? Did he want her? Did he? Oh my, it had been so long, and her skills in the art of seduction—or lack thereof—left much to be desired.
“Now I’m intrigued.” Bedingfield bent his head and brushed her temple with his cheek. He was so tall and broad and…hard. Muscular. Her husband hadn’t been this fit, though of course he had been much older than she when they married. Much older than Bedingfield was.