Sexy As Hell

CHAPTER 17

A FEW DAYS LATER, Isolde and Oz were at Pamela’s dinner party. Since Will and Anne were also guests, Isolde had taken care to stay by Oz’s side-not a hardship by any means. She preferred keeping her distance from the Fowlers.

But after dinner Pamela had taken her away to see her new Worth gown, which turned out to be as spectacular as claimed-embroidered and jeweled green velvet; the masterful Worth had surpassed himself. A maid had come in as they’d been viewing the gown, calling Pamela away to the nursery over some minor crisis, and Isolde made her way back to the drawing room alone.

Catching sight of Anne Verney waiting in the corridor outside the drawing room, she almost turned around. The last person she wished to see was Will’s fretful, sullen wife who constantly glowered at her. On the other hand, she wasn’t so craven that she’d let herself be intimidated over something so silly.

“Has the dancing begun?” she asked as she approached the woman who managed to look frumpish even in an expensive creation of sparkling silver tulle. The violins could be heard through the closed doors.

“I have no idea,” Anne icily replied. “I have something to say to you.”

God help me. “If it’s about the flowers for the church, my gardeners tell me the hothouse roses are in bloom. You’re more than welcome to them.”

“You insolent hussy. Why would I care about the flowers for the church? I want you to stay away from my husband,” she spat, caustic and malevolent. “I saw you staring at him all through dinner.”

“I did no such thing!” Isolde retorted, her shock plain. “You’re grossly mistaken.”

“Don’t play games with me, you slut.” A mottled flush colored her thin face. “I saw you trying to catch his eye.”

“I have absolutely no interest in your husband,” Isolde calmly said, not wishing to engage with this angry woman. “I’m married and more than content. You needn’t be concerned.”

“You duplicitous little bitch. Don’t try and placate me with your lies. You always wanted Will. But he’s mine. I bought him!” Blunt as a hammer.

“Everyone knows you bought him,” Isolde snapped back and instantly contrite, quickly added, “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that. He’s yours, Anne, truly he is-in every way.” She felt foolish for ever lamenting Will’s loss, embarrassed as well that she’d been so blind to his lies.

“I don’t need you to tell me he’s mine. He was never yours,” she said with deliberate malice. “Never. He told me so-that you were always in hot pursuit, trying to entice him into your bed, using your body to lure him, you witch!”

Isolde could have disputed who had pursued whom, but more than ever, she wanted this confrontation to end. The malicious glitter in Anne’s eyes was alarming enough to motivate a quick retreat. “There’s no need to argue over Will, Anne. He’s indisputably yours. I wish you both much happiness.”

“Spare me your spurious good wishes,” she snapped, her color high, the pulse in her neck beating violently. “Just stay away from my husband!”

“I most certainly will,” Isolde soothingly replied, edging away from the enraged woman. No longer concerned she might appear fainthearted, she fled, jerking open the drawing room door and slipping inside like a thief in the night.

“I needn’t ask how she was,” Oz murmured, pushing away from the wall beside the door as Isolde entered, white-faced. “I saw Anne go out, but I thought Pamela was with you.”

“I wish she had been.” Isolde shivered faintly. “The woman’s crazed.”

“Poor darling,” he gently said, taking her hand and drawing her away from the door. “But consider, dear, you’re outrageous competition for a plain sparrow like Anne.”

“I’ve never given her any indication that I covet her husband. In fact, I told her in no uncertain terms I had no interest in Will.”

“And she didn’t believe you.”

Isolde grimaced. “She said I was looking at her husband during dinner-I wasn’t.”

“He was looking at you.”

“He was? Oh God.”

“He was looking at you with prurience, lust, and adultery on his mind,” Oz delicately said.

Isolde groaned. “Don’t start, Oz. I’m sorry I ever met the man.”

A smile transformed the trifling unease in his eyes. “In that case, would you care to dance?”

And so the drama continued in the small exclusive world of dinner parties and country entertainments.

Will was restive under his wife’s constant guard.

Oz was mildly watchful and surprised that he was.

Isolde, with nothing to hide, openly enjoyed her husband’s company and wasn’t amazed to discover that Oz also danced better than anyone she’d ever met. But then he did everything better than anyone she’d ever met.

Which meant she must remember her life was her own and not lose her grip on it. Oz exerting the full power of his charm made one forget.