A Perfect Groom by Samantha James

to avoid seeing each other. So we are simply going to have to come to some sort of agreement. We must be civil to each other, at least.”
    “I quite agree. So if you’ve come to gloat — don’t. And if you’ve come to deliver another diatribe, do not bother. Consider me duly chastised.”
    His manner was guarded, his tone cool. A gnawing guilt nagged at her. He couldn’t know how she regretted her outburst the other night.
    “Justin,” she said, her voice low, “the other night…I spoke out of turn —”
    “You spoke what was on your mind.”
    “But I didn’t mean to —”
    “Yes, you did,” he cut in. “We both know it.”
    She peered at him. His shoulders were stiff and square. Why, she could almost believe…
    “Never say that you’ve come to grief over my —” She broke off, staring at him. What was wrong with him? He sounded odd. There was something strange about his eyes, and he wasn’t entirely steady…Merciful heavens, he was foxed!
    And, it seemed, he wasn’t finished.
    “Does that surprise you, Arabella? Startle you? I see it does. Scoundrel that I am, I do have feelings. And contrary to your opinion, I do have a heart.”
    Arabella was too stunned to say a word.
    “I believe I deserve an explanation. There must be some reason you dislike me so. From the beginning you’ve disliked me. Why, as a child you disliked me! But I’ve never done anything to you.”
    “No, not to me, but —”
    She stopped short. This was not a discussion she cared to pursue, particularly in light of his sodden state.
    “Justin,” she said helplessly, “it’s not that I dislike you —”
    “Then why did you say such things?” His tone was almost accusing.
    He stepped close. The heavy aroma of wine and spirits assaulted her. Dear Lord, it was a miracle she wasn’t sotted as well!
    “What if I told you I like you?” he went on. “What if I told you I’m fond of you?”
    “You’re fond of all women!”
    “Not true. It’s well known I have extremely fastidious tastes. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have danced with you that first night. Or the second. God, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
    Arabella stared at him dumbly. She couldn’t help it. She was unaccountably flustered. What was she supposed to say to that ? Dear Lord, how was she to interpret such a statement? She had come out here to apologize to him. She’d prepared herself for his mockery. His acid barbs. His arrogance. Anything but this…
    A dozen different emotions rushed at her from all sides. Dismay. Alarm. She was charmed when she didn’t want to be charmed. Flattered when she should not have been flattered. Was this how he managed to gain so many conquests? By catching them off guard and vulnerable? Oh, stupid question, that! A man with his looks had no need to coerce and cajole a woman into his bed.
    “What if I said I want to kiss you?”
    Things were progressing from bad to worse.
    Her heart seemed to stumble, along with her breath. Perhaps he had no idea what he was saying. “Justin,” she asked, “how much have you had to drink tonight?”
    “Too much.” He responded as if she’d asked the time of day. “But you haven’t answered my question.”
    “I have no intention of answering it!”
    “Why not? Don’t you want to kiss me?”
    “No. You’re foxed.” Why men relished spirits so, she couldn’t imagine.
    “But I’m the handsomest man in all England .”
    She feigned distaste. “Right now you’re the most disgusting man in all England .” As if that could ever be true.
    “Oh, come. It’s said that I —”
    “Pray do not boast, Justin! I know very well what’s said about you! You think you have only to enter a room and all eyes are upon you vying for your attention.” Granted, they usually were, but he needed no encouragement!
    “And what about you, Arabella?”
    “What about me?”
    “Are you drawn to me?”
    Arabella blanched. He was inching closer. Her insides were fluttering. “Other women —”