Page 43 of His Scandalous Viscountess
He was merely confused, not so much angry. Or perhaps a bit embarrassed at yet another rejection from her. But she would never have married him, and would never have converted to Islam in order to do so.
Of course, her visit with Tariq had reminded her that the question of Wolf lingered, as well. The man was impossible. He was bossy, demanding, too alluring for his own good, and he was overly attentive to her. She was already half in love with him again, despite her resolve not to fall. If she didn’t find a way to make Wallthorpe cease his pursuit, she would be in far greater trouble than she could have ever planned for, because the only thing worse than being forced to marry a second time would be to fall in love with the man who only married her out of a sense of obligation.
Determined to put both men out of her mind, Julia headed upstairs to dress for a dinner party at Lady Maccomb’s home. A widow, she often entertained small groups with food and games. It was a light affair usually, and one that she and Ros often attended in lieu of some of the more grandiose soirees.
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The evening was proving to be cooler than expected, but once she was in Lady Maccomb’s foyer, it made little difference. Having greeted their hostess, Julia followed Ros into the parlor, where many of the evening’s guests waited. To her surprise, Wolf and Flint were both in attendance. Before she could say a word to Ros, her sister was making her way across the room to where the men stood. Ros had already greeted them, so she said her hellos as well.
“I had not realized you were acquainted with Lady Maccomb.”
Wolf shrugged. “I knew her husband more than the lady herself, but I believe she extended Flint and myself the invitations more because of our associations to yourself and Ros.”
Surprised by that notion, she glanced at her sister to find her making cow eyes at Lord Flintshire. “I suppose I should have expected such a thing, what with us making our engagement so public.”
“Indeed. It’s conceivable we should start coordinating our social calendars.” The statement held a hint of laughter, but also a determined note of seriousness.
Wary of any such further entanglement, she smiled. “Oh, there is something to be said for the surprise of finding ourselves at the same function.”
“Is there?” Wolf let one brow rise in question.
Clearly, he did not agree. Well, such was life. Disappointment was something he should have become accustomed to when it came to her. It was inevitable. “Oh, indeed. It’s quite entertaining, though my parentshavebegun asking when we will set a date.” She leaned closer to him so her sister would not hear. “We should come up with some excuse why we have not, shouldn’t we? Perhaps we could fake a death in your family? Do you have any aunts lurking about we could kill off?”
She repressed the feeling of being an addlepated fool, but she knew she needed to slow things down with Wolf. After all, they would be parting ways eventually.
He was about to reply, but Lady Maccomb interrupted everyone’s conversations.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am very excited to introduce a dear friend of mine and my husband’s, who has joined us this evening. And all the way from the Far East…”
Julia’s stomach knotted and flipped.
There couldn’t be more than one sheik in London right now, could there?
She closed her eyes and prayed she was wrong, that some other berobed Arabic man was about to walk through Lady Maccomb’s entryway.
“Sheik Tariq Azzam Hassan, and his wives, Shaykhahs Fatima Hassan and Aaleyah Hassan.”
Julia opened her eyes and blinked. That was most certainly her former lover standing there grinning at her, while Fatima glared. Not to be outdone, just behind her, Wolf growled.
She should have known a quiet evening out was beyond the realm of possibility. After all, she’d been courting scandal for so long now that it seemed to just find her through no particular effort on her part. As Lady Maccomb began making personal introductions, the conversation of the other guests returned to its normal, dull roar.
Taking the opportunity, Julia turned to Wolf. But before she could say a word, he cut in.
“That is the man you spent the last decade with?”
She bit her lip and huffed. “Not theentiredecade, for heaven’s sake. He was my lover for six or seven years. But it has been nearly two years since I left him.” She drew a deep breath and rushed through the part that mattered most. “He appeared on my doorstep this morning. We visited, and he indicated that he wished to continue our intimate relationship. I made my lack of interest in rekindling a connection more than clear.”
Wolf’s beautiful blue eyes were more like a cold blue-white than their normal mesmerizing sapphire. A muscle also ticked in his jaw, pulsing in time to the rapid pounding of her heart.
“I would posit that he did not receive your message, since the man has barely taken his gaze from you since he arrived. And you may be interested to note that one of his wives is visually driving daggers into your back as we speak.” He sighed. “You are a siren, Julia, tempting normally sane men to throw themselves upon the rocks, in hopes of capturing you. All despite the promise of certain death.”
Anger surged through her. As if the insanity of men could be laid at her door! “Need I remind you who thesurvivoris here?Isurvived an abusive, disastrous marriage.” She did not say that it was Wolf’s fault, but the thought still lingered for her…and certainly for him, if the paleness of his face was any indication. “Isurvived being a widow in a foreign land full of men who desired nothing more than to own me.Isurvived being an infidel in a tribe that welcomed me merely because their leader wished it. AndIhave so far survived the unwanted courting of a man who has not taken no for an answer. I am but one woman, who is in no way in control of the stupidity of men as a whole. If you will excuse me now, I think I am in need of some fresh air.” Her nose wrinkled up in a haughty sneer. “Something rotten is perfuming the air in here.”
In full dudgeon, she turned on her heel and stalked through the party and out the back door. Ros was just behind her as she hit the terrace, which was surrounded by ivy and other flowering plants that Julia wouldn’t have recognized, even if she’d had a guidebook handy. Furious over Wolf’s comparing her to a mythological destroyer of men, she paced the length of the flagstone space.
Ros stood there wringing her hands. “Julia, perchance you were a bit excessive in your response to his comment.”
Greatly wishing to bash something—or more aptly,someone—over the head, Julia ignored her sister and continued to stride back and forth in an effort to work off her anger. The nerve of him to suggest she purposely lured men to their doom! She had not asked to be born with red hair and the proportions that seemed to draw men’s eyes. The only man she had ever wanted to want her had walked away when she’d needed him most. And now, after giving him a second chance, in a moment when she needed his support, he’d turned on her, and blamedherfor the situation!
