The Seduction of Sebastian St. James by Rachel van Dyken

grace?”
    “Any way necessary, my lady.” He lifted her hand effortlessly to his lips and bestowed a wicked kiss on her fingertips, reluctantly releasing her only when they were, yet again, approached by a panic-stricken Nicholas.
    “Ah, there you two are,” Nicholas said louder than necessary. “I need both of you to pretend you’re in deep conversation with me, and don’t look behind you less I start crying tears of outrage at the unfairness of my current situation.”
    Confused, Emma looked to Sebastian for help. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned to Nicholas and slapped him forcefully on the back. It was then Emma noticed Lady Fenton heading their way. Earlier that evening before leaving, Nicholas had received a glorious set down by his mother-in-law regarding his punishing Samuel. The argument, it seemed, had not yet been settled. Smiling, she looked back to Sebastian, who cleared his throat for attention and spoke.
      “Good of you to come so soon, my lord. We have matters to discuss. Emma and I were just conversing about my intention to marry and—”
    The room seemed to hush as Sebastian’s words echoed off into the great ballroom. Several pairs of envious eyes darted in her direction, nearly burning her with jealous rage.
    “Ah, yes. I forgot about the list!” Nicholas’s voice reverberated off the walls.
    Oh splendid, thought Emma. All the women of the ton needed to know was the Duke of Tempest was keeping an actual list of ladies he was potentially interested in. Selfishly she wondered if she was on it, but that was silly. Of course she wouldn’t be on it. She was merely the daughter of a wealthy viscount. Sebastian was more than likely looking for a princess or the daughter of a duke. Maybe even an heiress, not that he needed it. He was richer than Croesus.
    “The names?” Nicholas asked, interrupting her thoughts. She looked at Sebastian.
    “Yes, I nearly forgot.” Sebastian’s hands smoothed the front of his perfectly fitting jacket. His fingers fumbled along the inside for something.
    He pulled out a piece of paper in triumph. “It’s all here. I even wrote down a few debutantes.”
    “May God save us all from such a future,” Nicholas mumbled. Emma caught his wink in her direction.
      The timing had been perfect, for just then several twittering girls walked by, giggling in unison. They donned frightfully boring white dresses and feminine fans. None of them looked appealing. In fact, Emma had the sudden urge to throw her punch on their dresses just so she could see them scatter to and fro like a group of wild hens. She stepped forward, eyes gleaming, but was caught by a strong hand.
    “Leave them be, Emma.” Nicholas’s mouth twitched into a smile.
    “But how did you even—”
    Nicholas led her away from where Sebastian was standing, now surrounded with more women than she cared to count.
    “Let’s just say I know where that pretty little head takes you sometimes.”
     
    ****
     
    Curse her and the protective entourage that seemed to follow her every move. Lord Renwick was easy enough to manipulate. But the duke was an entirely different question. The duke was known as a fair man, but in no way did that mean he wouldn’t have a person hanged if the man in question mistreated his friend. The argument that kept parading through his mind was this: was Emma just an acquaintance, or was she something dangerously more?
    He swore viciously when he saw the duke yet again extend his lips to Emma’s creamy hand. That was his hand. She was his property. He had made sure of that long ago. If only she would have stayed in the country where she belonged.
    Where he could have kept her…and dealt with her. She would be the missing key to the unfairness of his life. Her dowry, her connections, he needed her now more than ever.
    No matter. He would take care of the situation soon. For who would want to marry or even associate with a gypsy dancer who gave it to every man she came in contact