A Persistant Attraction Read online

  ~r!z^021012

  A Persistent Attraction

  by

  Silvia Violet

  Their wicked desire sparks a game of passion that could claim their hearts. If a killer doesn't first claim their lives. At first, Amanda Halverston assumes the anonymous extortion letter she's received is a harmless prank. But the following night she is attacked and nearly killed. Desperate for help in finding her attacker, she turns to the notorious rake she has avoided for the last five months, Rhys Stanton. When the alluring Amanda seeks him out, he offers a bargain. He will help herin exchange for one chance to seduce her each day. Despite a wicked desire to explore the heat that crackles between them, Amanda refuses and launches her own search. But the attacker strikes again, and when Rhys is there to save her she decides to accept his shocking proposition. In the midst of an investigation that could claim their lives, the two begin a dangerous game of passion that could claim their hearts.

  Copyright © 2008 by Silvia Violet

  ISBN: 1-59998-194-7

  Edited by Jennifer Miller

  Cover by Vanessa Hawthorne

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2008

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Dedication

  To my husband who has never faltered in his support of me.

  Chapter One

  Devon, England, May, 1819

  Rhys Stanton stood at the altar in a beautiful stone chapel, serving as best man to his closest friend. He should have been listening to the priest’s words. Instead, he kept sneaking glances at the bride’s attendant. He hadn’t seen Amanda in months, but he’d thought about her every night. Not a good thing for a man of his reputation.

  No matter how much he wanted Amanda, he couldn’t have her. He might be disreputable, but he had a code against deflowering virgins. Of course his code was motivated primarily by his desire to steer clear of the parson’s mousetrap. Mark might have longed to enter the blessed state of marriage, but Rhys held on to his freedom with fierce jealousy.

  Still, nothing prevented him from watching Amanda. Her thick, dark brown hair had been braided and wrapped around her head in a circlet. A few tendrils slipped free to caress her neck and sweep over her shoulders. He longed to loosen the full luxurious length and run his hands through it while…no, he couldn’t let his mind go in that direction.

  Amanda met his gaze and gave him a disapproving stare. In the dim evening light, her luminous gray eyes looked violet, and her perfect ivory skin nearly glowed. With the exception of those exotic eyes, her face looked very much like her sister’s. But while her sister was curvy and voluptuous, Amanda was thin and willowy. Wearing her simple white silk dress, she reminded him of a painting hanging in his library where the Lady of the Lake rose from the water, Excalibur in hand.

  Amanda had proved herself brave enough to have aided Camelot’s king. A few months ago, she’d been shot while helping put an end to the white slavery ring run by Cassandra’s late husband. She dismissed her bravery as something anyone would have

  done. But he knew most women of the ton would call for their smelling salts at the very mention of such a thing.

  Rhys forced himself to look away from temptation and concentrate on the ceremony.

  He pretended to listen intently as Mark and Cassandra finished their vows, and the priest pronounced them man and wife.

  When the wedding party turned to walk down the aisle, Rhys had to take Amanda’s arm to lead her out. She kept her arm stiff and her back rigid. If his presence didn’t affect her, she’d have no reason to contrive such aloofness. She was working hard to live up to her reputation as an ice princess, but he knew her too well to believe such nonsense.

  If he were wise, he would walk away once they exited the church and do his best to avoid her during the ensuing festivities. But he didn’t know when he would see her again.

  He had no intention of launching a full-scale seduction, but just once, he wanted to see if he could melt her ice with a kiss. Mark would never forgive him if he took matters further, but months of longing had made him desperate for just one small taste.

  *

  After enjoying a buffet of both sweet and savory treats in the garden, the wedding guests moved inside for dancing. Amanda sat in a corner of the drawing room with her Aunt Claire. As she surveyed the dancers, she stopped to focus on Mark and Cassandra.

  They looked perfect together. Amanda smiled to herself as she noticed the radiant glow on her sister’s face. Cassandra wouldn’t be able to hide her little secret much longer.

  Mark and Cassandra had been determined to marry at Northamberly, Mark’s home in Devon, but the improvements he had undertaken took several months to complete. In that time, Cassandra realized she was increasing. Of course the circumstances of their marriage were already so scandalous that an “early baby” hardly mattered.

  Cassandra’s husband had been murdered only five months ago, but Amanda’s sister had no desire to wait through a proper mourning period. Cassandra did, however, worry how her actions might affect her family.

  Aunt Claire had encouraged her to go ahead with the marriage, and their aunt’s prediction about society’s reaction had come true. Everybody loves a good scandal. As expected, much gossip was shared behind the fans of ton matrons, but society families turned out in droves for the pre-wedding festivities they’d held in London.

  A hand on her arm interrupted Amanda’s thoughts.

  Amanda turned around to see Rhys Stanton giving her a far too familiar glance.

  Despite the fact that her aunt sat next to her, his gaze unmistakably dropped to the low neckline of her gown.

  She’d become acquainted with him in the turbulent days after Cassandra learned of her husband’s death. He’d made his desire for Amanda obvious, but he was a noted rake, and she wanted nothing to do with him. Unfortunately, their time apart hadn’t made him any less attractive.

  She couldn’t think of a word strong enough to do his physical beauty justice. His inky black curls, sapphire eyes and lean build drew women’s attention wherever he went, and the wedding feast was no exception. Numerous female guests followed him with their gazes. His very presence made Amanda feel much too warm.

  “May I have the next dance?”

  “I hardly think that would be appropriate. I must consider my reputation.” She turned to her aunt for assistance in dismissing him, but Claire was deep in conversation with two other ladies, and she had failed to notice Rhys’s approach.

  He leaned close and spoke in a low voice. “Are you afraid of the effect I have on you?”

  “Such remarks will only discourage a proper lady from dancing with you.”

  “Are you a proper lady?”

  Amanda drew in a sharp breath. The purr of his voice ran down her spine with sinuous heat. She could hardly insist on her propriety considering the adventure they had shared.

  “One dance, Amanda. I did save your life, after all.”

  His willingness to take a bullet for her was the one thing she could not reconcile with the rest of his rakish character. “I have thanked you as much as I am able, but I suppose I could grant this request. One dance. Nothing more.”

  “You have thanked me as much as you are willing. I believe you are quite capable of more creative methods.”

  His wicked smile made her shiver. “The next dance will not begin for several minutes. Why don’t you go seduce two or three debutantes before you must return to claim me?”

  He laughed. “You won’t c
atch me dangling after debutantes, though there is a young widow who has been making a cake of herself every time she gets near me. Perhaps I will take your suggestion. I am sure I will need only a few moments to convince her to accompany me to my room—after I’ve danced with you, of course.”

  “You are insufferable.”

  He flashed one more knee-buckling grin and walked away. Amanda tried not to observe the animal grace of his movements as he made his way through the crowd. His powerful, fluid walk was at odds with his foppish attire. Her sister had warned her there was more to Rhys than his appearance indicated, but she didn’t want to delve into his secrets. If she were wise, she would do her best not to cross his path again after their dance.

  Despite her resolve, she could not pry her eyes from him. She watched him halt next to one of the musicians. The man continued to play, never faltering, while he held a brief conversation with Rhys. Rhys handed him something, and he pocketed it when he had a chance. What was he up to?

  She turned away, hoping to seek her aunt’s advice on how to manage Rhys’s advances. But Claire had followed her friends to the punch table. A few minutes later, the music ended with a flourish, and Rhys appeared behind her.

  When he set his hands around her waist, she pulled away and turned around. “Have you forgotten where you are?”

  “Not in the least. I merely intended to guide you onto the dance floor.”

  The strains of a waltz floated across the ballroom, and Rhys’s conversation with the musician suddenly made sense. “You bribed them, didn’t you?”

  “I made a request and tipped them for their thoughtfulness.”

  “I will not waltz with you.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “You can return when the next dance begins.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “I am not afraid. I am wary as any young woman should be of a man like you.” Amanda was intensely aware of him. She could still feel the heat of his hands where he’d touched her. How was she going to survive a waltz without letting him know how he affected her?

  He took her arm and linked it through his. “Even a rake such as I would not attempt to ravish you on the dance floor.”

  Much to her annoyance, his touch sent shivers down her spine. “One waltz. Then you promise to leave me be for the rest of our stay here.” Rhys smiled. “If that is what you still wish, then I will not plague you again.” Amanda’s heart pounded as he led her onto the dance floor. The strictures of society dictated that a waltzing couple kept eighteen inches of space between them, but Amanda doubted Rhys left three. He was so close, the warmth of his body radiated against her as if she were naked. His thighs brushed hers as they twirled, and she tried to look anywhere but into his eyes.

  As they moved together, she realized Rhys was an excellent dance partner. Most men whose invitations she accepted were arrogant and boorish once they got her on the floor.

  Even if they showed any skill at dancing, she was too busy trying to discern their true motivations to enjoy herself.

  Rhys made his motives clear enough. He wanted to seduce her, but she also knew he would not truly harm her. Mark would kill him if he did. Rhys led so expertly she had only to relax and let him direct her body. She could easily let her world narrow to the strains of the music, his body pressed to hers and the wonderful feeling of flying.

  Then she made the mistake of looking up. Their eyes met. Raw hunger was reflected in his gaze. She’d seen lust on men’s faces before, but she’d never expected such primal desire to be directed at her.

  She realized with dismay that Rhys had managed to maneuver them so they were standing by the French doors which led to the courtyard. When the music ended, he flashed a wicked smile. “I thought you might enjoy some fresh air.” Before she could protest, he reached around her, opened the door and practically pushed her through. She took a slow, deliberate breath. “Now I have some fresh air in my lungs. Please return me to my aunt.”

  “Your aunt is busy catching up with old friends. Why don’t we take a few minutes to enjoy the cool evening?”

  Rhys had made her body come alive while they danced. She was much too vulnerable to be alone with him. “I found the temperature in the ballroom quite pleasant.”

  “Really? Then why are you flushed?”

  “How rude of you to notice.”

  “Not rude, simply honest.”

  He walked toward her. She backed up, but a bench caught her behind the knees. She sat down hard, her breath escaping in a whoosh.

  Rhys sat beside her and took her hand in his. His thumb stroked her wrist, sending waves of heat straight to her belly. “Why are you afraid of me?”

  “I’m not afraid. I’m annoyed. Now unhand me and let me go inside.” He smiled. “Prove it.”

  “Prove what?”

  “That you are not afraid.”

  “How would I do that?”

  “Kiss me.”

  “You must be joking.”

  But she looked into his eyes and knew he was quite serious. He’d said the words in a light, teasing tone, but his eyes glowed like a predator stalking prey.

  She told herself to get up and go inside, but her legs wouldn’t obey. He’d trapped her like a frightened rabbit. A secret part of her wanted to sample what he had to offer.

  His lips descended on hers, and she opened to him. For once in her life, she gave herself utterly to a new sensation.

  What a glorious sensation it was. The heat of his mouth enveloped her as his tongue sought the recesses of her mouth. Never in her most fevered fantasy had she imagined a kiss could feel so…exotic and sinful.

  Instinct took over, and her tongue reached out, sliding across his and seeking entrance to his mouth. He groaned as she traced his lower lip with her tongue. His arms closed around her, pulling her firmly against his hard chest. She shuddered as his hands stroked the naked skin of her shoulders.

  Amanda sank her teeth into the soft flesh of his lip, and he growled. His hands slid around to cup her breasts. When his thumbs flicked across her nipples, bolts of lightning ran through her body.

  Then reality crashed like thunder.

  She pulled back. His arms dropped away, and he gave her a satisfied smile. Anger churned inside her, but she obeyed her urge to flee, leaping from the bench and rushing into the house without a backward glance.

  Chapter Two

  London, July, 1819

  Amanda read the note for what must have been the fifth time. Then she laid it on the table in her sitting room and leaned her head against the sofa. She let out a long, slow breath. What am I going to do?

  How dare this unknown man threaten her and attempt to force her to meet his ridiculous demands? The best thing to do was ignore the note. Perhaps it was only a juvenile prank from a jilted suitor. Despite her icy reputation, men had continued to pursue her throughout the Season. She couldn’t help but compare them all to Rhys Stanton. Not one of them measured up.

  Blasted man! It had been two months since she’d made the dreadful mistake of kissing him at Mark and Cassandra’s wedding. At least he’d had the decency to keep his distance since then.

  She picked the note up once again. The words still hadn’t changed.

  You are being watched. Don’t think you can escape. Bring one thousand pounds to the Black Eagle in Burton Street at midnight tonight. Otherwise, prepare to meet with an unfortunate accident. Tell no one.

  How preposterous! Even if she wished to comply, where would she get a thousand pounds? It wasn’t as if Aunt Claire kept such sums lying about the house, and she had no money of her own. The note had to be a cruel prank.

  She glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was time to ready herself for the Leightons’ ball. She longed to plead a headache and stay home, but Elise, her younger sister, wanted her there. The evening before, Elise had introduced her to a young man she

  was enamored of. Her sister hoped he and Amanda might get better acquainted that evening. Elise desperatel
y wanted Amanda’s approval of the potential romance.

  *

  Elise was fairly bursting with excitement by the time they reached the steps leading to the Leightons’ townhouse, but Amanda felt suffocated by the crowd. Once again she was struck by the differences in her sister’s personality and her own. By the time they reached the end of the receiving line, young men clamored about them hoping to secure a dance with Elise.

  Cassandra’s horrible first marriage had tainted Amanda’s opinion of men, but Elise had been spared many of the details of Lord Reddington’s treachery. Elise’s disposition was far sunnier than Amanda’s or Cassandra’s, so she was naturally more suited to making friends in London. Amanda had no doubt that Elise would be engaged by the end of the Season.

  As Elise followed her first partner onto the dance floor, Amanda helped their aunt settle into a chair. She told herself she could have a partner if she wanted one. Sitting with the spinsters and matrons was her own choice, one she’d accepted without reservation for the last several months. So why did she suddenly feel so lonely?

  She looked across the sea of dancers, thinking perhaps she’d see a friendly face. Few of the girls she’d come out with the year before had enough wit to engage in stimulating conversations, but she had formed a solid friendship with the Blakely sisters, so close in age they were often mistaken for twins. Amanda had been happy to renew her acquaintance with the sisters when their family had returned to town for this year’s Season.

  But Amanda didn’t see either of her friends. Instead, she inadvertently caught the eye of Rhys Stanton. As she answered his lascivious smile with a frosty stare, she wondered what could have compelled him to come out that night. He didn’t normally attend respectable parties.