Читать книгу Sexual Secrets - Melissa MacNeal - Страница 10

Hadrian Swann inhaled sharply. It was all he could do not to devour the delectable morsel of a woman who gripped his hand and gazed so coquettishly into his eyes. But it wouldn’t do, to let his masculine instincts overrule rational thought. It was reward enough to know his arduous trek—his life’s mission—hadn’t been made in vain.

For a long moment he savored Colette LeChaud Bentley’s fine, ripe scent…the tilt of her mussed, upswept hair…a button left undone where the swell of her bosom played it to best advantage. She showed all the signs of a woman who’d been bedded this morning, and despite the marital dissatisfactions she’d shared with her sister, Hadrian sensed Colette gave as good as she got. His trousers tightened.

Colette Bentley could not suspect he’d overheard the conversation she and her twin had shared while he watched their shadows behind the window glass…their undressing, and then circling each other…the way one had repeatedly touched the other’s breasts. No doubt the LeChaud sisters had been working on a gown, but from where he’d stood it looked like the Bentley wives were intimately touching each other while plotting a most incredible escapade…a deception that told him as much about Rutledge Bentley and his son Heath as it informed him about the flirtatious French women they’d married.

But this was no time for speculating about Bentley and his son, and no time to get sidetracked by his fantasies. Now, while he stood within the domain of these two talented, scheming brunettes, he would give them the business, as he’d promised.

“I wish to surprise a very special lady with something so exquisite she’ll love me forever,” he murmured in a husky voice. “Will you advise me about fabrics and designs that will complement her striking features?”

“Striking in what way, Mr. Swann?” Colette Bentley smiled eagerly as she led him to an entire wall of deep shelves that held dozens of bolts of fabrics. It was a feast for the eye, yet all the rich rainbow colors and the textures that beckoned his fingers paled in comparison to this fetching shopkeeper.

“She is delicate, but has a flawless olive complexion and hair that shines like ebony.”

“And her size? We’ll need her measurements, you know!” An identical twin emerged from a room at the rear of the salon. She looked different from Colette only because she wore a gown of bright pink that displayed an alluring four inches of cleavage, and her glossy brown hair was perfectly coifed above her fresh, arresting face. “Camille LeChaud Bentley,” she said as she extended her hand. “I design our original gowns, and I’ll be pleased to help you choose beautiful fabrics that outshine what any other couturiere in London will show you!”

“Delighted to meet you,” Hadrian replied as he bowed over her delicate hand. Her skin was smooth and her facial features so fair and flawless he could’ve gazed into them all day.

Was it this sweet lamb that had married Rutledge Bentley? And who claimed her husband couldn’t service her? The mere thought of her virginity—and indeed, to his astute masculine eye, Camille Bentley appeared prim and pristine—whetted his appetite beyond his wildest dreams. He felt like the wolf lying in wait for Red Riding Hood…thoughts of slipping into her bed to make a woman of her made him prickle with anticipation.

But that’s not why he’d come! Or at least it hadn’t been his original motivation for this trip to England, even if his plans were now surging along a primrose path, spurred on by his desire.

Hadrian smiled as he looked from one sister to the other. Damned if they didn’t appear identical right down to the dimples in their chins and the rise and fall of their breasts as they breathed together. He had no doubt they could outfox their husbands, because he himself would have to be very careful if the time ever came for him to distinguish between them. And he suspected it would.

“And what did you say you’d come for, sir?” Colette smiled sweetly yet knowingly, as though she’d read his randy thoughts.

Hadrian focused on the bolts of fabric before them, reminding himself of his original scheme. “With her exotic coloring, my lady looks especially fetching in white,” he mused aloud. “And I plan to surprise her with the gift of a simple, flowing gown which might serve as a wedding dress—if she accepts my proposal, of course!”

“I can’t imagine any woman refusing you, sir,” the prim twin in pink replied.

“And her family won’t provide her a gown?”

“Ah, but her family is already gone, you see,” Hadrian replied with the proper degree of sympathy. No need for Colette, the astute one, to suspect he was fabricating this story, even if the lady in question was real. “And as she was left destitute, I wish to provide her all she’ll ever need. I want her to have every reason to trust and love me.”

Camille reached toward a high shelf to grasp a bolt of shimmering white fabric, which brought her breasts to the brink of her low-cut bodice. Hadrian forced himself to look at the airy cloth while he imagined this twin naked in a gown made from it…a gown that would cover her from neck to toe yet leave her feminine charms completely revealed. “Yes! This is perfect!” he crooned as his fingers brushed hers. “I do believe an angel might wear this as a wedding gown!”

“It’s truly gorgeous, sir. Your lady will love it!” Camille agreed as she set the bolt on a nearby table. “Will you be choosing laces and trims now, or when you—”

“I trust your designer’s eye. My lady is sweet and unassuming. Not one who follows the current trend of ostentatious overadornment.”

“Simplicity is a virtue,” Colette chimed in, “and my sister will fashion a gown to make any lady feel like the angel you’ve described. What else may we show you? Fabric for her trousseau, perhaps? For traveling suits and evening attire on your honeymoon?”

Ah, this one knew how to drive up her shop’s profits! Hadrian admired a woman with ambition, as long as it didn’t interfere with his own. “I prefer to let my beloved make her own clothing choices after she sees the gown of white. But I will be needing a costume!” he added on sudden inspiration. “We’ll be attending a masked ball, and I fancy her as an exotic princess.”

“Something Egyptian, perhaps? Cleopatra is an ever-popular character at balls,” Colette suggested.

Hadrian paused, pretending to consider her suggestion. He could envision this twin swathed in bold prints with the distinctive kohl markings the Queen of the Nile was known for, while he as her manservant massaged her feet…her slender calves…her thighs…

But again he set aside his wayward fantasies. “She deserves something more original, unlike anything another woman might wear. She hails from the islands of—”

“Polynesia!” Camille spouted. “We recently received the most glorious floral silks, and while some might consider the prints too gaudy for day wear, just imagine your lady in these colors!”

Hadrian refrained from spanning her waist with his hands to steady her as she stood on tiptoe, teetering on her ladder rung to reach the fabric she’d described. The vivid green leaves and yellow lilies, set against a background of swirling purples and startling poppies, made him smile and nod exuberantly. “Yes! Just what I had in mind! And perhaps something for a coordinating veil.”

“To render your lady totally mysterious in a roomful of predictable costumes and caricatures,” Camille agreed. She grabbed a nearby bolt of patterned silk in a diaphanous red, and then playfully draped the fabric in front of her face. “Is this what you had in mind, Mr. Swann?”

If you knew what I had in mind, you’d run as fast as your pretty legs could carry you. The see-through scarlet belonged on a whore, and Hadrian wanted to wrap Camille’s lithe body in it and watch as the provocative color brought out her wicked inclinations. “I’ve come to the right place,” he declared. “Your instincts feed into mine. Your instincts about the color and flow of the fabric, of course,” he added quickly.

The twins smiled with a feline glee that made his cock twitch. Hadrian pulled his wallet from his pocket. “Because you’re taking me as a client without references—and I have no English accounts—I shall leave you with this deposit and return tomorrow with the measurements you’ll need. Am I asking too much, to have the white gown and the princess costume ready by a week from tomorrow?”

Camille’s jaw dropped, but when Colette snatched the two hundred pound note he held out, he had his answer.

“We pride ourselves on service, Mr. Swann,” she insisted with a tight smile. “You’re asking us to set aside gowns already promised to other clients to accommodate your request, but we’ll find a way to meet your needs, sir.”

“You won’t be disappointed!” Camille squeaked. “Why, I already have visions of the designs I’ll use to make your lady the most splendid creature you’ve ever beheld!”

Hadrian bowed to cover a foxlike smile. Such a delight it would be to work with these girls…to use their marital masquerade as a part of his own devious plan! “Until tomorrow,” he crooned. As he stepped smartly out of the shop, the tinkling of the bell and the firm whump of the door disguised his smug laughter.

“Can you believe that man?” Camille asked with a giggle. She fingered the floral-printed silk, already envisioning the extraordinary costume that would befit a Polynesian princess. “We’ve never seen him before, yet he deposits more than what both his gowns will cost! Didn’t even ask about our prices! I’m betting his lady love will want more dresses when she sees what I’m designing for her!”

“We’ll be burning the midnight oil to make his deadline and everyone else’s, but Hadrian Swann’s taken such a liking to us he’ll be back for more!” In a rare display of giddiness, Colette wrapped the translucent red silk around her head like a turban and let it drape over her face as she sashayed around Camille. “I have no idea who he is or where he’s from, with his olive skin and those midnight eyes, but he’ll be leaving a big mark on London this season! We’ll have to pay Alice for extra hours of—”

“Have ya no idea what ya just did? And to whom ya sold those gowns?”

Camille and her sister turned to look at their seamstress, whose face resembled curdled milk. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, or—”

“Or the very man we was warned about!” Alice spouted. “While you was talkin’ with ’im, it hit me like a brick! Don’t ya recall Rubio’s prediction about a stranger? A dark, foreign man—charismatic and handsome—and a lady veiled in white?”

Camille’s heart fluttered like a frightened bird’s. After all, she’d just sold Mr. Swann some glorious white fabric for a wedding dress…and silk for a veil. “You flirted with him first!”

“You lured him in here with your tart!” Colette joined in. She stood alongside Camille as they placed their fists against their hips, glaring at Alice.

“How was I ta know? I—I was makin’ polite conversation, as any woman would with such a man standin’ outside her door!” Alice’s breasts shimmied as she shook her finger at them. “I weren’t the only one who fell under the spell of ’is looks. Or his sweet talkin’!”

Colette exhaled loudly and tossed the bolt of scarlet fabric to the worktable. “I believe Rubio’s prediction was poppycock anyway, so I refuse to worry any further about Mr. Swann,” she declared. “I’m going to write up the tickets for his gowns now, and charge him extra for presuming he could demand so much of us in so short a time. Not only is he rude for expecting special treatment, he was downright vulgar, thinking overpayment would justify such arrogance!”

As her sister strode rapidly to her office upstairs, the strong, steady tattoo of her heels on the wooden steps accelerated Camille’s pulse. “You might be right,” she whispered to Alice. “We’ve probably just sold our souls to the devil. But what else can we do? We agreed to his terms and took his money. When he returns tomorrow—”

“Rubio should meet ’im. He’ll know right off if this is the man from his prediction.”

Camille nodded. She felt like a ninny for the way her knees quivered at the mere thought of seeing Hadrian Swann again…because he’d caught her off guard? Or because of the way he’d excited her sister?