Midnight Flame by Lynette Vinet

gown. The seamstress had done wonders showing off Simone’s physical assets to advantage. The gown suited Simone perfectly, and the blue color matched he eyes. Tony guessed she was trying to lure him upstairs to bed, and at any other time, he would have gone.
    But Simone had raised the topic of the woman he had brought to the dance last night, and he couldn’t get her off his mind. He hoped Zelie and Emmanuel hadn’t had much trouble with the tempestuous miss. Zelie was much too kind-hearted for such an undertaking, and no doubt she might be taken in by Lavinia’s silken lies. Emmanuel, however, wouldn’t be so amenable to the emerald-eyed beauty. He was a trusted servant and never questioned Tony’s actions.
    The sound of Simone’s lulling voice brought him out of his reverie, and he silently cursed himself for even now being under Lavinia Delaney’s spell.
    “After we’re married, darling,” Simone was saying, “you’ll never want any other woman but me, you’ll never even look at any other woman. I can make you happy, Tony, I know I can. All you have to do is name the date of our wedding. I saw the perfect pattern for my wedding dress in the latest issue of Godey’s Lady’s Book.”
    Simone’s words caused Tony to feel trapped. The thought of marriage to Simone, to any woman at the present time, was out of the question. He would never marry until he found the perfect woman with whom to share his life.
    He stumped out his cheroot in his breakfast plate and stood up. His expression was utterly bored. Beneath his well-dressed exterior of white shirt, brown frock coat, and matching trousers, his insides grew cold at the thought of marriage to Simone, but he smiled at her disarmingly, his smile brilliant.
    “I thought you wanted to wait until your father had completely recovered from his illness,” Tony said smoothly.
    Coming to stand beside him, Simone reached up and fiddled with a gold button on his shirt. “You know very well that Papa is always ill, Tony, because he drinks too much. He’ll die from the effects of alcohol one day and will never stop drinking until death closes his eyes. I don’t want to wait any longer to become your wife. Let’s announce our engagement soon.”
    The manipulative little minx. Until last night Simone, claiming her father’s health, hadn’t been that eager to marry him, but Tony knew she wavered because she enjoyed flirting with all the men and probably bedding some of them, too. Her virtue, or lack of it, had never bothered him—he was quite knowledgeable on that score himself—but now she felt she had a rival in Lavinia Delaney. He laughed aloud. If only she knew to what extent he had gone to avenge his uncle’s death on her supposed rival for his affections.
    “Whatever are you laughing at?” Simone asked somewhat huffily.
    “I’m sorry,” he answered and disentangled her hand from his shirt button, “but I can’t think of two more mismatched individuals than you and me.”
    “Mismatched? We’re very much alike, Tony.”
    “Exactly why we’d never be happy, Simone. I want a woman I can trust, and you, my pet, are not that woman.” His forefinger touched the tip of her nose, and his expression softened.
    “I can’t marry you, and whether you realize it or not, I’m doing you a favor by not marrying you. Anyway, I’ve never encouraged you. You’ve taken it for granted that we’d marry because our fathers were friends. Your father may already wonder why I’ve never pressed my suit of you or formally asked for you. I don’t love you, Simone, and have no intention of taking you to wife. I’m sorry to hurt you, but I’ve done you an injustice by not having already told you how I feel. Look elsewhere for a husband, for I’m not about to become one soon.”
    Her mouth fell open, and her eyes clouded with forced tears. She had never been refused anything, or anyone, she had wanted in her life. And now here was Tony Duvalier, one of the wealthiest men