London's Most Wanted Rake by Bronwyn Scott Page A

you, Mr Seymour, you’ve made this much easier than it could have been otherwise.’ It was all true, only not in the way he thought she meant it. His greed had made him a pigeon ripe for the plucking. Channing was on the move again and, this time, she let him find her. It was the ideal manoeuvre for disengaging herself from Seymour without giving the appearance of leaving him abruptly on her own accord. She’d let Channing take care of that.
    ‘There you are, comtesse. ’ Channing did not disappoint. ‘Lady Lionel sent me to find you. She wanted you to have the first piece of cake as the victor of our egg hunt.’ It was perfectly timed, the tea cart just rolling in.
    ‘If you’ll excuse me, Mr Seymour?’ Alina gave him a smile and moved to Channing’s arm.
    ‘Of course, my dear. We’ll speak again in the morning.’ He gave her a bow and she could already feel Channing’s muscles tighten beneath her hand.
    ‘What does Seymour wish to speak about in the morning?’ He fairly bristled as they walked.
    ‘Business.’ She cast him a sly glance and touched the necklace in subtle reminder. ‘Don’t be jealous, what I have planned for us is all pleasure.’
    Channing gave an imperceptible arch of his eyebrow. ‘Makes me want to skip the tea cart altogether,’ he murmured huskily.
    ‘I’d advise eating.’ She gave a throaty laugh. ‘You’ll need your strength.’
    ‘Minx. You really are irresistible.’
    You are, too. The afternoon had been a delightful foray into pleasure and play. It had proven that the pleasure still existed between them. That was half the problem. The other half was that she didn’t even want to try to resist on afternoons like today when she’d been swept away in the fun of being with him. Giving herself over to that kind of abandon hadn’t worked out for her in the past. This time, she reminded herself, it would be different. She was smarter, wiser and she knew what she was after: just the pleasure, nothing else. This time she wouldn’t forget: out of bed, Channing Deveril had limitations.

Chapter Nine
    T hose limitations didn’t apply inside the bedroom, however. Nor did they apply for the duration of the house party, Alina decided as she readied herself for Channing’s visit. She had her mental ground rules firmly in place. There was no reason why she should not carry on a wicked flirtation with Channing that served both her purposes of distraction and pleasure. Surely, after all she’d endured, she deserved a little pleasure as reward. There was no harm in it as long as she kept perspective.
    She would have to be subtle, starting with tonight. Channing had seen right through her other attempt from the start and he had no tolerance for being someone’s plaything, especially not hers. What he perceived as her betrayal all those years ago would not allow for it. Alina paused in front of the mirror over her vanity and studied the reflection. She’d chosen a white-silk dressing gown that belted at the waist and flowed over her curves. She wore nothing underneath. Her hair was up, loosely held in place with a clip. It would come down easily and quickly. For now, she liked the image it created, as if she was fresh come from her bath. But her neck was bare. She’d decided long ago she would not wear the diamonds for Channing or any man. The necklace was prettily laid out on her vanity, catching the candlelight, but it would not grace her neck.
    The woman in the mirror had long known the power of sex to bend men to her will. Without it, she would not have survived the cruelties of her marriage to the comte . Slowly, she unbelted the robe and drew the robe apart, revealing her nakedness to the mirror. She cupped her left breast and lifted it, exposing the underside. The faint remnants of his mark were still there, hidden from view, especially in the dark. But she knew and he’d known it was there.
    Alina drew her fingers gently over the tiny impressions of the scar. It had faded