Forbidden Susan Johnson (english love story books txt) 📖

Nadine preened under the Duc's warm smile and decided he'd be equally impressed with some of her special talents in bed. "I'll give you a tour later," she said apropos both subjects.

"Alva must be envious."

"She will be."

Several groups of party guests, including the Braddock-Blacks, were standing near the entrance to the ballroom, and for a moment the Duc wondered if the footman had informed them of the identity of the lady accompanying him upstairs. But he wasn't challenged as he came into range, nor was he called out when Nadine approached the Braddock-Blacks. Like a hummingbird to nectar, Nadine gravitated naturally to handsome men, her seductress mentality intrinsically responsive to men like Hazard, Trey, and the Duc—prototypes for male beauty.

"Hazard, darling, Trey my pet," she cooed, smiling her special smile reserved for stunning men. "You're looking wonderful," she purred, touching Hazard lightly on his chin with her fan. "And Blaze, sweetheart," she added with less ardent cordiality, "your Worth gown almost does justice to your diamonds. You have a generous husband. Why Empress, you lovely girl, how very Parisian you look tonight in that elegant cherry tulle. Do I detect Doucet's touch?"

With Nadine's hand on his arm, they were greeted with not only civility but, surprisingly, Etienne thought, with a certain warmth. Empress of course was always friendly to him and Blaze was cordial as she'd been that afternoon. But the degree of geniality he received from the men was a staggering concept to absorb as he shook hands with Hazard and Trey. He looked at them closely, trying to understand the bewildering volte-face after the near lethal polo match that afternoon.

Two years earlier, in Paris, he'd met Trey face-to-face, but never Hazard. Daisy's father was taller off his polo pony, his bronzed skin darker under the artificial lights, like Daisy's. And he wore his hair longer than his son's, in the fashion of his generation, giving him a regal air despite the uniformity of his evening dress.

"How's your hand?" Hazard asked, his expression unreadable, his voice contained but courteous.

"I wouldn't mind if the play-off were postponed a day." Why was this man being pleasant to him?

"Doesn't Daisy have something that would help the Duc's hand?" Blaze asked her husband.

An almost infinitesimal glance passed from Hazard to his wife, briefly disconcerted and taut, but she smiled at him and he seemed to take a small breath before he said, "I'm sure she does. You should ask her," he suggested to Etienne, his dark eyes deliberate and watchful.

So that was it, Etienne reflected. Daisy's father was operating under a degree of subtle coercion from his wife. "I will," the Duc said with a smile. "Next time I see her."

Hazard's scowl was instant.

"Tell me, Trey," Nadine interjected, uninterested in discussing Daisy, "can Oliver purchase that gorgeous paint pony you were riding the first period of the match this afternoon? He particularly asked me to inquire." Her gaze was unabashedly honeyed.

Familiar with Nadine's coquetry, Trey replied with a pleasant smile, "Sorry, Jumma's a pet, but we've others Oliver can have. We brought thirty with us." Horse breeding was one of their profitable ventures, their polo ponies rivaling the best out of Argentina. In fact, in terms of stamina, a necessary asset in a polo mount, their plains ponies outperformed the Argentinian breeds.

"You're at Rutherford's?" At his affirmative nod, Nadine said, "Tomorrow then… I'll be over. Say at one?" Nadine's father had been a trainer in the Kentucky horse country before his death, and her early years had been spent in the stables with him. She knew horseflesh as well as she knew male flesh. "Come with me, Etienne," she coaxed, her voice a husky intimate contralto.

Empress and Blaze exchanged looks while Hazard searched the Duc's face for his reaction to Nadine's intimacy. Daisy might want him and Blaze could pressure him to a social courtesy, but if the man was casually accepting female favors, he'd find a way to change Daisy's mind.

"I promised Hector a day at the beach, Nadine." Etienne's smile was pleasant but detached.

Hmmm, Hazard thought.

His grandson before Nadine. The man showed good judgment at least.

"Did I hear Hector's name?" Appearing from behind a towering floral arrangement flanking the door to the ballroom, Jolie and Henri joined them.

"I was telling Nadine, Hector has a day at the beach planned for us. You know everyone, don't you?" the Duc said, the presence of his daughter and son-in-law a comfortable addition to the disproportionate number of Braddock-Blacks.

"But Etienne, you promised me as well. My picnic, remember, to Barkley lighthouse?"

"Forgive me, but Hector's too young to understand if his plans are altered. Perhaps next time I can join you."

A polite but definite dismissal, Hazard noted with satisfaction… or perhaps Nadine simply wasn't the Duc's style, he cynically reflected.

"I hope you haven't changed your mind as well, Empress," Nadine sulkily said, her full lower lip pouty.

"We'll be there. Trey's reserved me a day away from polo, and Daisy told me she's looking forward to painting the lighthouse. She's very good with watercolors."

"I could stop by later," the Duc quietly said, "when Hector goes in for his nap."

"Thank heaven for little boys' naptimes," Nadine purred, leaning into Etienne's side, "although big boys' naptimes can be heavenly too," she added in a low breathy whisper, meant for his ears alone.

"There's Daisy now," Blaze remarked, saving the Duc the necessity of responding to Nadine's sultry innuendo.

"She was upstairs!" Nadine muttered, her narrow blue gaze on Daisy descending the staircase, her mind swiftly attempting to sort out the possibilities of where and why she was upstairs. "Did you know that?" Her pale eyes critically assessed the Duc.

Although the others hadn't caught her words, her tone was decipherable. Nadine alone wasn't interested in the Duc's answer.

"No. Did I miss something?" Etienne inquired mildly, aware he was the cynosure of everyone's gaze.

"Good luck, Papa," Jolie whispered and when he turned to look at her, she winked like she had as a child when