Lessons in Seduction

Victorian Series ~ Book #1

VIVIANNA + OLIVER'S STORY

EXCERPT

1840, London.  Vivianna Greentree has followed Lord Oliver Montegomery to the famous bordello, Aphrodite's Club . . . 

 

First things first: make quite sure he cannot escape.   

          Vivianna removed the key from the lock and slipped it into the pocket sewn into her skirt.  Only then, with a deep, sustaining breath, did she turn to face the room.  It was just as elegant as the one she had left, but far more intimate.  A fire crackled in a fireplace, ornaments gleamed on small, polished tables, and a very large chaise lounge was draped in scarlet silk and dotted with crimson cushions.  Upon the wall was a framed painting-a Botticelli Venus-all golden hair and pink flesh.   

His back to her, Lord Montegomery was standing by the uncovered windows.  A tall, dark, broad-shouldered figure against the night.  There was something distant about him, as if he was a man who was all alone.  For a moment she hesitated, uncertain, feeling like the intruder she was. 

As if sensing her gaze upon him, he turned, a half smile of welcome curving his mouth.  His smile turned quizzical.  He blinked deep-set eyes that were of a blue so intense and so dark they almost appeared to be black.           

"I thought this was the Venus Room," he said in a deep, deceptively sleepy voice.  "You look more like Diana the Huntress."  His gaze slid over her in a leisurely fashion.  "Although with far too many clothes on . . ." 

          The meaning of his words barely touched her.  If she thought of them at all, Vivianna believed he was trying to be witty at her expense.  There was nothing wrong with her good Yorkshire cloth.  She took a step forward, hands clasped around the riding crop, her voice ringing out.  "Lord Montegomery?" 

          His intense gaze sharpened.  "Do I know you, madam?"

          "“No, my lord, but you will.  My name is Miss Vivianna Greentree, and I am here to restore your conscience to you."

          His dark brows rose, and something shifted in his expression—as though he recognized her name.  But, as that was impossible, Vivianna did not allow herself to be distracted.  He took a step closer across the splendid Aubusson carpet. "My conscience?" he repeated.  "Do I have one to restore?  And if I did, would I want the bother of it?"  His gaze flicked down to her hands and the riding crop.  His lips thinned.  "I am sorry, Miss Vivianna Greentree, but there seems to have been a misunderstanding.  I prefer not to be beaten.  Not by you or anyone else.  I am a man who likes his pleasure without a sting in it."

          That was when Vivianna's single minded purpose began to unravel.