Pride and Pleasure by Sylvia Day Page A

of a mind to act scandalously.
    “You have my word, my lord,” Jasper said softly.
    There was a pregnant pause after the earl departed. Jasper raked her with a heated gaze, from top to toe and back again. Then he averted his head, exposing a clenched jaw and rapid pulse. Eliza realized he was aware she’d skipped undergarments in her haste. He knew she was unbound and unfettered.
    And it was adversely affecting him.
    His reaction to her was creating a corresponding reaction to him. The tempo of her heartbeat increased.
    Eliza covered her discomposure by moving to the settee and sitting. Smoothing her floral skirts with restless hands, she looked at Jasper’s savagely masculine profile and said the first thing that came to mind. “I apologize for not being more presentable.”
    “How can I accept an apology”—his gaze slowly returned to her face—“for something that brings me such pleasure?”
    She swallowed hard, hating that her mouth was so dry. His eyes followed the working of her throat. A thick, hot current of awareness flowed through her. It was difficult to see him there in the private room where only family and close friends gathered. An intimacy was established by his presence. She felt exposed without the stricture of her stays. Vulnerable in a way she’d never known before.
    Forcing her hands to be still, she said, “I saw you this afternoon.”
    She didn’t confess that she’d been smitten by the sight of him in his rakishly angled hat.
    He nodded. “You should be cautious around Montague.”
    “I sincerely doubt he is the culprit.”
    “Why?”
    “He is an intelligent man. He must be aware of more productive ways to win my hand. In fact, he said as much to me today. He believes he understands me now and presented himself as a sound investment. He’s come to the conclusion that appealing to my reason is far more likely to yield the results he hopes for than attempting to engage my emotions.”
    Jasper’s chest lifted and fell deeply. “The man gambles obsessively.”
    “Those who lose to him do so by their own choice. His skill is widely lauded. They know what they risk by playing against him.”
    “Up to this point,” he murmured, “I considered you remarkably reasoned.”
    Eliza’s chin lifted. “You are provoking me.”
    “I’m being frank.” He approached, but his gait lacked the seductiveness she’d come to anticipate. Instead, it was determined. “Is Montague your favorite of your suitors?”
    “I enjoy his lordship’s company,” she answered carefully. “However, I enjoy most every gentleman who comes calling. I would avoid anyone whose companionship I didn’t find agreeable. In fact, I warned Lord Montague this afternoon to be careful not to become troublesome.”
    He paused on the opposite side of the low table. “What would prompt you to make such a statement?”
    “He has become impatient to wed and claims he is determined to have me. His approach—while unique—did not sway me, but I seem to have become something of a curiosity to him.”
    “The Quality is ever in pursuit of relief from boredom. After all, it’s so tedious to be blessed with the wherewithal to do anything one desires.”
    There was an undertone to his words that set Eliza on alert. Jasper wasn’t simply voicing an offhand observation.
    Exhaling harshly, he altered direction toward the grate, his boots thudding softly across the well-worn rug. Resting a forearm on the mantel, he stared into the glowing coals. His dark hair gleamed with vitality. The strands sweeping forward to frame his temples and brow were uniquely appealing despite the popularity of the style. Burnished by firelight, Eliza found the lines of his large body to be magnificent. He was exceedingly male, like a glass filled overfull. She wondered how women managed a sip without spilling all over themselves.
    Not a poetic thought and definitely an unseemly one, but she chose not to delude herself. She was attracted to him. His