“I am nothing if not efficient and well organized,” she said primly.

“In that respect you haven’t changed, nor should you. But you have emerged, I think. Like a butterfly from a cocoon.” He studied her curiously. “You have allowed yourself to...to breathe, India.”

“Yes, I believe I have at that.” She thought for a moment. “It’s quite, well, freeing to discover one doesn’t have to always be right.”

“I can imagine.” He smiled and pulled her closer. “But you haven’t told me your wish.”

“It’s my understanding that wishes don’t come true if you tell them.”

His gaze searched hers. “Will you tell me if it comes true?”

“Oh, I suspect you of all people will know.” She smiled up at him and her heart swelled.

How strange to realize that all she’d never thought was possible, never cared about really, never concerned herself with might well be possible, after all. Even as a child, India knew better than to believe in fairy tales of princesses and dashing heroes and magic. Or silly stories of romance and true love and living happily together forever.

Tonight, for the first time in her life, she believed.


CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR


WHEN INDIA PRENDERGAST was determined to do something, she would let nothing stand in her way. In that, at least, she had not changed. Even if the something in her way was her own trepidation and yes, cowardice.

At least she finally had a genuine use for the peach negligee and matching wrapper, a garment clearly designed for seduction and sin. One would think wearing a lace-trimmed weapon of carnal desire would give a woman set on seduction a fair amount of confidence, and indeed it did. Even if it was currently hidden under the bulky comforter she had wrapped around herself for the walk from her room to Derek’s. Apparently, it took more than resolve and determination to completely change from proper, responsible spinster to harlot, even in Paris.

She squared her shoulders, drew a calming breath and knocked on Derek’s door. And realized she had no idea how to properly seduce a man, although perhaps properly was not the right word.

After a few seconds—or an eternity—the door opened.

Clad in his red dressing gown thrown over striped silken pajamas, Derek stared in obvious confusion. She’d thought he had looked handsome and dashing and very nearly perfect earlier in his formal evening wear but now with his hair rumpled and the sash of his dressing gown loosely tied, he was improper and imperfect and nothing short of irresistible. Her heart raced.

He narrowed his gaze as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. “India, is something wrong?”

“No, nothing at all.” She shook her head.

“Then, why are you here?” he said slowly.

“Why?” She had rehearsed what she intended to say but apparently, when confronted with a man obviously fresh from his bed and knowing where this could—where she wanted this to lead, words failed her. “It’s difficult to say exactly.”

“What?” He shook his head in confusion.

Come now, India Prendergast, a firm voice in the back of her head said. If this is what you want, and you do, tell the man.

“Very well.” She raised her chin. “I should like to...to be seduced. Or to seduce you, if you prefer. Although admittedly, I have no experience—”

“Good God, India.” He grabbed her arm and yanked her into his room. “Get in here.” Obviously, the man was eager to begin. “Unless you wish to announce your intentions to the entire house.” Or not.

She nodded. “That might be best.”

He shut the door behind him. “Surely, I didn’t hear you correctly. What are you really doing here?” His gaze flicked over her. “And why are you wearing half the bed?”

“Derek.” She braced herself. “Tonight I made a wish, and only you can make the wish come true.”

“Bloody hell, India!” His eyes widened in sheer horror. “What did you wish for?”

“I wished for the night to never end.”

He stared for an endless moment. She suspected it would not be in the spirit of seduction to shift nervously from foot to foot yet it was terribly difficult not to do so.

“Oh no.” He took a step backward. “This is some sort of trick, isn’t it?”

“No, as I said—it’s a seduction. Or an attempted seduction. Although it doesn’t seem to be going very well.” She pulled the coverlet tighter around her. “I did think with your reputation, you would understand and be, well, amenable to the idea.” Her gaze drifted downward, and she cleared her throat. “Although I can see you’re not unaffected by my arrival.”

“Damnation.” It was as much a groan as a word. Derek stalked across the room, grabbed a pillow and held it in front of him. “I’d have to be dead to be unaffected!”

“Precisely my intent. Well, not that you be dead, of course, but—”

“Your meaning was clear, and I congratulate you on your success. In spite of that thing you have wrapped around yourself, you are most...” His expression twisted as if he couldn’t bear to say the words. “Provocative.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, damn it all, India!” He uttered an odd sort of painful laugh. “With your hair...like that.” He waved with his free hand. “All unrestrained and floating about your shoulders, and that tantalizing glimpse of lace, the flush on your cheeks, the sparkle in your eyes...” He glared. “A man can only take so much, you know!”

“Really?” She studied him thoughtfully. Odd that his discomfort eased her nerves. Perhaps this was one of those shoe-on-the-other-foot kind of things. After all, Derek had no doubt seduced a fair number of willing ladies. This might not be so difficult, after all. “You should know I have never done this before.”

Obviously, she had stunned him into silence.

“Seduced a man, that is.”

“Yes, I knew what you meant!”

“Or allowed a man to seduce me. Although I suppose it really doesn’t matter, who seduces whom,” she said thoughtfully. “At some point, I assume the seduction will be mutual.”

“What?” The man could barely croak out the word.

“Carpe diem, remember? This is one of those unexpected opportunities, and I intend to seize it.”

“If I recall, that was in reference to sightseeing. Not—” he waved at her “—whatever this is.”

“Goodness, Derek.” She heaved a frustrated sigh. “I believe I have explained this quite thoroughly. Or at least as thoroughly as was necessary. Indeed, I have been painfully obvious.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you have never done this before, and yet here you are.”

“Of course I have never done this. I am not a trollop. I had never kissed a man before you, either.”

“Never?” He stared at her.

“No, never.” She shrugged. “The opportunity never arose.”

“And Sir Martin never—”

“Good Lord, no!”

“Then I’m the first man you ever kissed?”

“We’ve established that.”

“Oh, well, hmm.” He nodded thoughtfully. “That is interesting.”

“I’m glad you think so.” She summoned her courage and let the coverlet fall to the floor. “Shall we?”

His gaze traveled over her from the lace ruffles cascading down the front of the wrapper to the tips of her slippers. Only the fact that between the negligee and the robe there were two layers of the translucent fabric kept her from being completely exposed. But she’d studied herself in the mirror before leaving her room and knew full well there were peaks and shadows barely concealed by the gossamer material. Given the look in his eyes, and his tightened grip on the pillow, he had clearly noticed.

“So.” She forced a light note to her voice and stepped toward him. “Should we...retire? To the bed?”

“That isn’t—” He cleared his throat and stepped back. “That isn’t how things like this are done. You don’t simply go to a man’s room in the middle of the night and say, ‘Seduce me!’”

“I did offer to seduce you.” She stepped closer. “I might need some assistance in that, but the offer remains.”

He stared at her.

“Surely this is not the first time a woman has come to your room with an offer of this nature.”

“No, it isn’t. But that is entirely irrelevant. We’re not talking about some woman. We’re talking about you!” His brows drew together in a forbidding manner. “What did you think was going to happen here, India? Did you think you could simply waltz into my room, declare your intentions and I would throw you onto my bed and have my way with you?”

“That sounds like an excellent way to start.” She nodded. “But you might wish to discard the pillow.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, clutching the pillow tighter against him.

“I must say, I’m a bit surprised.”

“You’re surprised?”

She casually circled around him and sank down on the edge of the bed. “I never imagined this was going to be quite this difficult. I thought a man of your reputation would be more than amenable to a night of...amorous adventure.”

“So I’m the trollop?”

She winced.

“Now see here, India Prendergast.” Indignation rang in his voice. “Admittedly, I have had my share—perhaps more than my share—of amorous adventures. And while the offer is tempting—more than tempting—bloody hell, India, I love you! And you are not the kind of woman one dallies with—especially not on command! You are the type of woman one marries!”

She stared at him. “Does one?”

“It might very well depend.” He stalked over to her, dropped his pillow, yanked her to her feet and into his arms. “Are you here because I am a means to an end? A way to make the night last forever? Or are you here because you want to be with me as much as I want to be with you? Because you cannot stand another minute without being in my arms? Because I have taken up residence in your heart and regardless of how ill suited we are for each other, we are as well inevitable?” His gaze bored into hers. “Because you love me?”

“Well...” Her breath caught. “Yes.”

“That’s settled then.” He stared into her eyes but made no effort to let her go.

“I think you should kiss me now.” She rested her hands on his chest, startled to note he had nothing on beneath the dressing gown beyond the pajama trousers. Just as startling was how exciting that was.

“Do you?” He swallowed.

“It seems like the thing to do.”

“I believe I said the next time I kissed you it would be at a time and place of my choosing.”

“And yet here we are.” She slid her arms around his neck. “Seize the day, Derek.” She tentatively touched her lips to his. “This is an unexpected opportunity.”

He groaned and pulled her tighter to him. His arousal pressed against her through the layers of fabric, and the strangest feeling of need ached inside her.

“Kiss me, Derek,” she murmured against his lips, shifting her hips to press closer. Any lingering apprehension vanished in the heat of his body next to hers.

“India.” He moaned and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss firm but distinctly restrained. She could feel the tension in the hard muscles of his arms around her, as if he were holding himself in check. As if he were afraid. This would never do. He raised his head, released her and stepped back. “There. I have kissed you—now you should go.”

“Derek,” she said with a sigh. “I am a twenty-nine-year-old spinster, which did not bother me at all before I came to Paris. I usually wore gray or brown. I prided myself on my efficiency, and I considered myself quite ordinary. Now I find it rather sad and somewhat pathetic. I feel like an entirely different person. And it’s your fault. You taught me to breathe, Derek, and now you have to suffer the consequences.” She smiled in what she hoped was a sultry manner. “And I have no intention of leaving.”

“And I have no intention of seducing you.” His resolute tone was at complete odds with the sharp bulge beneath his dressing gown.

“Very well then. If you will not seduce me, I shall have to seduce you.”

“Will you?” A distinct challenge shone in his eyes, and he shrugged. “Be my guest.”

“You should know that novels of detection are not the only things I have read.”

“Oh?” He smiled in a knowing manner. “Then by all means, proceed.”

“You would be amazed at what one might learn through the joys of reading,” she said under her breath. Although she really had no idea what to do now.

“I can imagine.” He chuckled.

“You doubt me?”

He shrugged.

She studied him for a moment, then reached out and pulled the sash of his dressing gown free, letting it drop to the floor. The gown fell open, leaving the hard planes of his chest exposed. A smattering of hair covered his torso between his flattened nipples, then trailed down to disappear beneath the trousers. She moved closer and ran her hands over his chest. He shuddered beneath her touch, and his hands clenched into fists by his side, but he made no other movement. A sense of pure power washed through her. How long would it take for him to lose control?