Susan Johnson - Seduction in Mind

Her mother opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again.

"There, you see."

"Your father wouldn't allow it."

"Should I ask him?"

"He's very busy right now," Euterpe replied stiffly.

Alex smiled faintly. "Don't worry, Mother, I won't be bringing Sam to dinner. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do."

"With him, I suppose."

"No, alone. Does that make you happy?"

"If you married Constantine and gave me grandchildren, I'd be happy."

"How about just the grandchildren without the marriage?" Alex offered lightly. "How would that be?"

"How dare you even suggest such a thing! Your father will hear of this, young lady… such absolute foolishness! I'm going to pretend you never said anything so outrageous. I told your father his leniency toward you would-"

Her mother was still sputtering when Alex stepped into her carriage.

Alex went directly home, fatigued after her sleepless night, weary in spirit as well-totally unsure of what had been until yesterday clear and unequivocal goals in her life.

The moment she closed the front door, she began undressing, leaving a trail of clothing behind in her passage to her bedroom. When she reached her bed, she dropped onto the mattress in a sprawl, pulled a cover over her, and within seconds was fast asleep.

In the days since she'd met Ranelagh, she'd barely slept, and while he may have been accustomed to a schedule of continuous sex, she was not.

Already experiencing withdrawal symptoms, Sam couldn't have slept had a gun been put to his head, and knowing he had to keep busy if he were to last two days without Alex, he went to Eddie's house, dragged him out of bed, and insisted on his company.

They'd played eighteen holes under an overcast sky and, against Eddie's protests, began a second eighteen midafternoon, despite a light rain falling.

At the third hole, with the wind picking up, Eddie tossed his club at his caddy and hotly declared, "I'm done, Sam. If you have to keep your mind off the lovely widow by wearing yourself out on the golf course, I don't have to be part of your damned abuse. Not only did you wake me up at the crack of dawn-"

"It was eleven."

"As I was saying-the crack of dawn, not to mention you've dragged me up and down this damned course for hours without so much as a drink."

"I can't drink."

Eddie spun around, his gaze incredulous. "You're dying."

Sam handed his club to his caddy and waved the two lads away. "I'm not dying," he said calmly, "but I sort of promised Alex I wouldn't sleep with anyone for these two days, so I want to stay sober." He shrugged. "In the interests of caution."

Sam's explanation had done nothing to diminish Eddie's incredulity. Wide-eyed, he said, "You may not be dying, but you're obviously delirious. What do you mean, you promised her not to sleep with anyone?"

"Just that."

"You mean you're sleeping alone tonight?"

Sam nodded.

"And tomorrow night as well?"

"Yes."

Eddie softly whistled. "Damn, she must be good. How long has it been, Sammy, since you spent two nights alone?"

"Don't make it sound so unusual. I spend time at my country home and at my hunting lodge and I don't necessarily have female guests."

"But your pretty maidservants draw straws for you, if I recall. Or doesn't that count?"

The viscount had the grace to look disconcerted. "You've made your point. But I'll manage just fine for two days."

"Provided you don't drink and you wear yourself to exhaustion on the golf course."

"Something like that," Sam said with a grin.

"Well, I'm going to the clubhouse and get myself a brandy before I die of a chill." Eddie offered his friend a sardonic glance and began walking away. "Since you're in love, you may watch me drink."

Sam caught Eddie's arm and brought him to a standstill. "For the record," he said carefully, "I'm not in love."

"Good. Then you won't mind joining me at Hattie's tonight. She has a dozen new ladies in from Paris-your favorite type, as I recall."

"Maybe some other time."

"Bloody hell! I don't believe it!" Eddie made a cross with his forefingers as though warding off evil spirits. "I bloody hope whatever you have doesn't contaminate me."

"Alex is very nice. That's ail."

"Really. Nice. I hadn't heard you refer to sex as nice before. Tell me how it's nice. Tell me what the hell she has, Sammy. Come, come, aren't we old friends? Describe this fucking rarity"-he grinned-"or rare fuck, because I'm all ears."

"Not a chance."

"Are we going to hear wedding bells?" Eddie mocked.

"What do you think," Sam said brusquely.

"Thank God. It would shake my principles to the core."

"You don't have any principles."

"Well, it would scare the hell out of me."

As it turned out, the men didn't stay long at the clubhouse. Eddie wasn't able to change Sam's mind, and after a period of cajoling and grumbling, he gave up trying to coax Sam into having a drink, and they returned to London.

"I hope you come to your senses," Eddie said as he exited Sam's carriage. "Do you think you should see a doctor?"

"I'm not sick, but thank you for your concern."

"It's not concern so much as a matter of survival. I don't want to think this could happen to me." He shuddered.

"I'll keep my distance," Sam promised with a faint smile. "Give my regards to the girls at Hattie's."

"I'll tell them you're in love."

"Tell them whatever you want."

And that casual reply more than anything alarmed Eddie.

It wasn't a good night for Sam. He tossed and turned, rose a dozen times to have a drink, decided against it in each instance, finally dressed before dawn, and rode out to the site of his new golf course to keep his mind off what he couldn't have for two more days yet.

Watching the sun rise from the crest of a hill, he surveyed the broad green sweep of land that would one day be as perfect a course as man and nature could devise. But rather than the usual sense of satisfaction such contemplation provoked, he instead felt distrait and edgy.

He swore softly, and his mount turned its head in response. Sam stroked his horse's strong neck. "It's not you, Duff. I'm just losing my mind," he told the animal, a faint grimace lifting his mouth. "Over a damned woman." No matter the softness of his tone, the thought was staggering. He wondered how he was going to reclaim his life-or, more to the point, get through the next two days.

Alex had slept the sleep of exhaustion, and when she woke she was startled to see it was midmorning. Throwing off the covers, she quickly rose and dressed, keeping one eye on the clock. She had only minutes to spare before her first scheduled meeting at the Kensington Museum, where she was a member of the board. After that, she'd promised to listen to proposals for the new children's wing at St. Anne's Hospital.

Hurrying to her carriage house behind the garden, she felt a renewed sense of purpose in her return to the advocacy that was such a large part of her life. There was enormous satisfaction in helping others, in having her wealth serve the public good, and while the pleasure Sam offered couldn't be faulted, there was more to life than self-indulgence.

Especially with a man like Sam, whose self-indulgence was legend.

Breathing in the sweet-scented air of her garden, she looked forward to her responsibilities and obligations. Should she put all her diplomatic skills to use, she might convince old Mr. Tristam that buying the Courbet painting of two half-dressed women in a wooded landscape wouldn't condemn him to an eternity in hell. And with luck, the young architect of the new children's wing would have finished his drawings so she could finally move on to the building of it.

Since her trust fund was the principal financing behind the project, she had the last word. Something much less certain in her relationship with Sam. She smiled. Obviously, he didn't understand how often she exercised her authority in the world at large.

When she returned to her studio late that afternoon, the Courbet painting finally acquired and the children's wing scheduled for groundbreaking the following week, Alex was in fine spirits. She'd stopped for flowers to celebrate her successful day. Walking up the path to her front door, her arms full of delphiniums and white roses, she was surprised to see Ben seated on her doorstep.

"Harry sent me," he said quickly, rising to his feet. "I hope you don't mind. Harry said he'd meet me here."

Alex took note of the satchel at his feet. "He's coming here to paint?"

"He thought we could finish the sketches from yesterday. But if it's inconvenient…"

The young man looked embarrassed, his downcast gaze almost servile. Alex immediately attempted to put him at ease. "It's not inconvenient at all. I'm finished with my appointments for the day. Please, come in." She smiled. "I'd enjoy painting after a busy day."

"Harry should be here soon," the young man offered, picking up the satchel. "He asked me to bring some new robes."

After unlocking the door, Alex led the way into her studio. "Let me put these flowers in water and I'll be right with you. If you'd like to change." She waved toward a doorway. "Use my study."

When she returned a few minutes later, Ben, garbed in a gleaming cerulean blue djellaba, was seated on a chair conveniently placed in front of her easel. It was impossible not to be impressed by the quality of the glamorous silk garment. Alex complimented him on his robe.

"My father gave me this before I left home. I think of him every time I wear it." Sadness overcame his features and tears welled in his eyes.