Free The Diamond Slipper by Jane Feather

dismissively. “You’ll pay it back when you’re rich and famous and known the world over. But you must have a sponsor in Paris. Perhaps the king …” She glanced interrogatively at Leo.
    “It’s not impossible. The king is a generous patron, but it’s not easy to gain his notice.”
    Cordelia chewed her lip. She could think of the solution, but she wondered if it would be impertinent to suggest it. It would, of course, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. However, it would be unforgivable to put both men on the spot in front of each other.
    “The champagne has made me very thirsty,” she said. “I wish I had some lemonade.”
    “I’ll fetch you a glass,” Christian said instantly, as she’d known he would. He set the champagne glass on the table and hurried from the room.
    Cordelia picked up the discarded glass and sipped, trying to think how to approach the delicate subject.
    “I thought the champagne made you thirsty,” Leo observed, leaning back against a pier table, folding his arms, regarding her with an ironical eye.
    “I want to ask you something private,” she said.
    “Why do I have the sense of impending trouble?” He reached behind him for his own glass.
    “Will you sponsor Christian?”
    Leo closed his eyes briefly.
    “Please. It wouldn’t be that much trouble, would it?” She came up to him, touching his arm again. “He really is a genius. You’ll see.”
    He opened his eyes and looked down at her. Immediately, he regretted it. She was gazing up at him, her cheeks flushed, her hair tousled around her heart-shaped face. His eyes became riveted to the deep dimple in her chin, the full sensual bow of her lips. She brushed her hair impatiently from her face, tucking it behind her ears, and his gaze fell upon the small shells lying flat against the sides of her head. Her earlobes were long, begging for the grazing caress of his teeth.
    “Please,” she said softly. “It would mean so much to me. Christian can’t waste his genius here. It’s not fair to the world!”
    “How can I possibly be responsible for depriving the world of genius?” he said, his lips curving in an involuntary smile. “You could charm the birds out of the air, the fish out of the sea, Cordelia.”
    Her eyes glowed and he knew he’d blundered again. “Could I, my lord?” Her little white teeth clipped her bottom lip.
    He caught her face in both hands, his fingers pushing into the tangled ringlets. His mouth on hers was hard, as if he wanted to punish both of them for this craziness that he couldn’t help. His tongue forced her lips apart, probing, ravaging her mouth, almost as if he would thus penetrate her body to the obstinate, irresistible spirit that drove it. His hands were hard on her face as he fought through the mists of madness to control his surging arousal.
    But unbelievably, she laughed against his mouth, her breath a moist and sweet whisper, and her tongue danced with his. Her body moved against him, her own hands moving unerringly to his buttocks, pressing his loins against her.
    Leo started back, his hands falling to his sides. He stared at her, her flushed face, her smiling mouth, the dreamy arousal in her eyes.
    “Get out of here.”
    Cordelia stood her ground. She ran her hands through her hair, pushing the disordered curls off her face. “Don’t you think you could love me at all, Leo? Not even one little bit?”
    With a savage execration, he pushed past her and strode from the room.
    Cordelia snapped a thumbnail between her teeth. At least he hadn’t said no. But perhaps simply following her instincts as she was accustomed to doing was a mistake. Perhaps honesty put him off because he was accustomed to playing the sophisticated games of flirtation before the glittering mirrors of Versailles. But she didn’t know how to play those games. She didn’t know how to be anything but herself.
    Too keyed up to go to bed and in too much turmoil to manage to be coherent in company, she made her