Free The Art of Love by Lilac Lacey Page A

of her nude if he so desired.
    She was suddenly aware that she hadn’t spoken a word since Leo had addressed her. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here tonight…’ she forced herself to say, and let the sentence linger, unsure what to call him. By rights she should address him by his last name as Freddie did, but after the closeness they had shared in his studio it seemed far too formal. Yet he had not invited her to call him Leo, although that was how she always thought of him.
    ‘Everyone’s here now,’ Freddie said, turning to the company at large. ‘Please come through to dinner.’ He began shepherding guests through the double doors of the drawing room, into the dining room beyond.
    ‘Whereas I thought you might be present,’ Leo said, answering her comment.
    Was that why he was here? For one wild moment Tara’s heart leapt with hope, but then she remembered how distant he had been when they had last parted, and come to think about it he had barely greeted her now. He had not taken her hand and kissed it as most of the men she knew would have, he had not even bowed, all he had done was apprise Freddie of their business relationship.
    ‘Are you a friend of Freddie’s?’ she asked, trying to place him in this new context of the world of society.
    ‘You might say that.’ His answer didn’t tell her much. She glanced at the other guests retreating into the dining room. They were going to be ten at dinner, five women and five men.
    ‘Did Freddie invite you to make up the numbers?’ she goaded him, trying to get a reaction. It worked, but not in the way in which she had hoped.
    He narrowed his eyes and looked at her. ‘That must have been the reason,’ he drawled, and she could not tell if he was angry or if he were mocking her. She was about to retort Freddie would never be so gauche when she realized that even if he wasn’t angry with her, she was annoyed with him. It wouldn’t hurt him to be a little more forthcoming, and as he hadn’t been he must accept that she might jump to the wrong conclusions.
    Freddie popped his head out of the dining room. ‘We’re just sitting down for soup,’ he said. ‘Are you two going to join us?’
    ‘Of course,’ Leo said, smiling at Freddie as if he were his best friend, and for all she knew, Tara reflected, he might be. ‘Lady Tara?’ Leo said, turning to her and offering her his arm, every inch a gentleman again, presumably for Freddie’s benefit.
    Tara found she had no choice but to let him escort her the few short steps to the dining table, but as soon as his hand closed over hers she felt her anger drown in her sudden heightened awareness of Leo’s masculinity. He was so strong, with his painter’s hands, used every day for both arduous and delicate work, and he held her firmly as if she belonged by his side and no matter what they said to each other he planned to keep her there because the mere words meant nothing, and all that mattered was the irrefutable attraction between them. But other than by being who he was he had not encouraged her. She knew she must put all thoughts of him aside; it would be intolerable if he thought she was flirting with him despite the distance his words had put between them. He’s a craftsman , she told herself, practically a tradesman , it would embarrass them both if he thought she was taking a particular interest in him.
    As unofficial hostess Tara found herself seated at the foot of the table, while Freddie was at its head. Belatedly it occurred to her that she would have had more chance of being indifferent to Leo, who was seated to her right, if Freddie had been on hand to flirt with. She would have to make do with Philippe on her left, she decided, and turned her attentions towards him.
    ‘My dear Philippe, how have you been occupying your time since last I saw you? At Lord Carlshot’s ball I believe it was.’
    Philippe gave her a mournful grin. ‘Time hangs heavy on my hands,’ he said, ‘I have been to only