Read Online Gorgeous as Sin by Susan Johnson - Free Book Online Page A

audience.
    “People are looking, sweetheart,” he murmured, keeping his hands to himself, not wishing to openly push her away for fear of embarrassing her.
    “I don’t care,” she purred, rubbing against him, the lace ruffle on her low decolletage suddenly catching on one of his pearl studs.
    “Ah, but you should care, dearest,” he added under his breath, trying to detach the lace without tearing it. Oh, Christ—Mrs. St. Vincent had glanced his way and frowned. “Why don’t we plan on spending some time together tomorrow instead?” he suggested, needing to quickly extricate himself from Miss Baldwin’s clutches and lace ruffles.
    Her upturned gaze was suddenly sharp. “When tomorrow?”
    “Anytime.” He stepped back. There, finally.
    “Are you busy tonight?” A small pettish query at both his excuse and the fact that he’d backed away from her.
    “Actually, my mother is coming in on the midnight train,” he lied.
    “Your mother?” Her sky blue eyes were skeptical.
    “Yes, upon my word.” All’s fair in love and war.
    She paused briefly in consideration, then looking at him from under her lashes, coquettishly said, “Very well. The Savoy at four.”
    He smiled. “Excellent. Do you like roses?”
    “Of course, darling.” She reached out and ran her fingers down the fine silk of his waistcoat in a proprietary gesture. “Red roses,” she murmured in a sultry contralto.
    Watching Miss Baldwin walk away, it took him a moment to collect himself, having only narrowly averted a scene. And he well knew she was not a woman who gave up gracefully. After Charlotte’s costume ball, she’d relentlessly pursued him, going so far as to call at his home. Fortunately, the race season had begun at the time and he was rarely in London. As for the Savoy engagement, time enough to deal with that tomorrow. Right now, he had more pleasant prospects in mind.
    For the remaining hours of the exhibit, he avoided Miss Baldwin and unostentatiously pursued Mrs. St. Vincent. Rather than offering posies and charming phrases in the usual seduction, Fitz cultivated the lady’s good will instead by purchasing a dozen paintings.
    Rosalind was naturally delighted. She was further enchanted by his amiable rapport with her artist friends; she had not thought a peer of Groveland’s consequence could be so unaffected. Particularly after his high-handed arrogance that morning.
    But he turned out to be enormously gracious and engaging, even so kind as to send for champagne from his cellar for her guests. Rosalind couldn’t help but be gratified. She found herself reconsidering her previous judgment, viewing him now in a much more favorable light.
    After all, the show was a huge success thanks in part to Groveland’s largesse. The women artists she sponsored were considerably more prosperous—again, thanks to the duke.
    Sofia, apparently, was in accord when it came to Groveland’s benevolence for she spoke up for him sometime later as they were refilling trays of sweets in Rosalind’s kitchen. “You might want to change your mind about Groveland, darling. Not only is he a generous patron of the arts, he’s really quite lovely in any number of ways. As you may have noticed.”
    Rosalind gave her friend an arch look. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from him. Is he not known for his cultivated graces?”
    “I’d say his manner is particularly affable to you.”
    “Please,” Rosalind said. “He has ulterior motives as you well know.”
    “Of course he does, and if I were you, I’d seriously consider taking him up on his offer.”
    “Sell my store!” Rosalind tossed a mutinous look her friend’s way. “Never!”
    “I meant , darling,” Sofia soothingly replied, “why not spend the night with him and let him gratify your senses? He is in great demand for all the right reasons—very large reasons, I’ve heard.”
    “For heaven’s sake, Sofia!”
    “Some say he posed for Zeus in Noland’s Rape of Danae ,” Sofia went on undeterred, Rosalind’s rosy flush indicating interest—whether she