The Seduction of Sebastian St. James by Rachel van Dyken Page B

distance.
    “My arm got caught in this blasted dress,” she explained, rubbing her elbow.
    “Says the girl with no points,” Sebastian muttered, taking position and fighting to ignore the shot of lust that went through his veins the minute Emma began rubbing her skin. Focusing on the game at hand, he threw and hit the target right in his forehead, sending his hat backward onto the ground.
    “Who’s there?” the man yelled and stomped his foot, then he picked up his hat and cursed. Apparently, this had not been a good night for him.
    “That’s five for me, and how many for you, Emma?”
    “Pride from a duke? How shocking.” With that, Emma threw not one but two grapes at the next two passersby, hitting one in the foot and the other in the head. Miraculously. He was convinced her throws were based on prayer and pure luck.
    “Ha!” she gloated “I believe that gives me six points, and how many for you, Sebastian? I’ve lost track.”
    “Finding it difficult to count with me standing so close to you, m’dear?”
    “Foul!” she yelled. “If you’re going to sit and insult those who beat you—” Quickly his hand reached out to cover her mouth. Her raised voice had nearly given them away.
    When they were in the clear, he released his hand and motioned for her to step back as he took his turn launching the grape toward the young man sitting on the bench.
    And promptly missed.
    She had just won. She didn’t even need to hit her target. Yet she reached up her arm for another throw then turned and, without warning, threw it right at Sebastian’s face. He ducked, but he wasn’t quick enough. The grape ricocheted off his nose into his eye.
    “My eye, oh no! My eye!” He covered his eye and cursed.
    Emma blanched. “Oh no. Oh!” She braced his face with both hands. “Let me see. Maybe I can help. I feel horrid! I didn’t mean for it to hit your eye. If you would have just—”
    Naturally, Sebastian was faking it. And he should have felt guilty, but instead he was exhilarated. He could smell faint delights of wine and berries on her breath as it brushed across his face. He was going to kiss her.
    Since he had already made the decision, he leaned forward and met her lips with tenderness. Then whispered against them, “Remember, winner gets a kiss.”
    He felt her tense beneath his arms. Pathetically, all he could think was, P lease, God, don't let her pull away. In all its innocence, it was the best kiss of his life.
    Her hesitation ceased once he pulled her firmly into the frame of his body, shielding her from any snooping eyes of the ton .
     
    ****
     
    Emma was shaking.
    And it was all Sebastian’s fault.
    Before the incident, she had dreamed of this moment. Didn’t every girl? Now that her dreams were a reality, she felt like she was living a waking nightmare.
    She was trapped against this powerful man. There was no escape. Yet as the kiss progressed, her body began to act in direct conflict with her head.
    Everything felt alive.
    She was terrified. Her head told her she had to flee. It said if she didn’t push away, something bad would happen again. How was it possible to both enjoy and be petrified of something at the same time?
    Her arms treacherously wrapped around his neck as if he was the lifeline to her sanity. The pull between them was like nothing she had ever experienced.
    And then as quickly as it had happened, she was pushed away, but not by Sebastian.
    “What the—Sebastian! I should kill you!”
    Nicholas was standing between the two of them like an angry parent, which, oddly enough, was closer to the truth than Emma would like to admit. Her belly filled with dread as if she had just been caught red-handed stealing something from her father.
    Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by Nicholas’s fist.
    It all happened so fast, Emma wasn’t sure how to play it. Did she throw Sebastian to the wolves or join him?
    Maybe it wasn’t too difficult of a decision.
    “I have