She continued her perusal. Without a coat and waistcoat, his broad shoulders were clearly delineated. She realized he didn’t need the padding that most men required in their garments. Despite her resolve, she felt a sweeping pull in her stomach. There wasn’t an inch of softness about him. He was all hard angles, sinewy and unforgiving.
She stopped circling him. “As I said, entirely inappropriate.”
“Truly? I thought I was appropriately dressed to meet a lady in the middle of the night.”
“How often does that occur?” she blurted out, then bit her lip. “No. Please do not enlighten me.”
He chuckled, and she spotted a teasing gleam in his eye. Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears.
“It’s not just tonight, but what you wore the first evening I saw you at the Raven Club,” she said. “Entirely inappropriate.”
“Something tells me you are going to enjoy insulting me during my lessons.”
Her lips twitched with the urge to smile. “I must receive some satisfaction from agreeing to tutor you.”
“Splendid. I shall have to instruct Jenkins to keep the brandy decanter full.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “Who is your valet?”
His brows slashed downward. “I don’t need a valet. I can dress myself.”
She looked at him in surprise. “All gentlemen have valets.”
“All the men of your acquaintance, perhaps.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You will need an entirely new wardrobe. You must arrange to see a tailor. It will take numerous fittings over the course of several weeks.”
“Jenkins will see to it.”
She didn’t think that was in the realm of a butler’s duties. “Where did you get Jenkins? He seems a proper English butler.”
“He came with the home, along with a cook and most of the furnishings. The books are my own.”
That explained the artwork and the elegant drawing room. She hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject, then decided straightforwardness was best. “Now that you are the earl, have you thought of living with your mother, the Dowager Countess?” She knew of Lady Castleton, of course. Ian’s mother had been a well-known hostess of the ton when her husband had been alive.
He looked at her incredulously. “No. I’m my own man. I haven’t lived with family for years. I left a decade ago when the old earl was alive.”
“Your father?”
“We never saw eye to eye.”
The bitterness in his voice made her wonder what had caused it. She bit her tongue to keep from asking. It was not her affair.
His brow crinkled. “Although I would prefer for Olivia and Ellie to live with me.”
“Olivia and Ellie?”
“My two younger sisters.”
She tilted her head to the side and regarded him. “I didn’t know you had sisters. Have they had their debut?”
“Ellie is seventeen and will have her debut next year. Olivia turns sixteen next month.”
Something about his tone aroused her curiosity. “You care for them, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
His answer was unhesitant and sure.
Her thoughts spun. “They are the reason you agreed to attend Lady Crowley’s ball and take your place as the new earl?”
“Yes.”
Again, no hesitation. She had thought his motivations were different. Never had she suspected he was going through with his lessons because he cared for his sisters.
“Now as for the tailor, will you accompany me?” he asked.
She turned her attention back to the matter at hand and what he was asking. “I cannot. Surely you realize we must not be seen together.”
“The tailor will come here. As for tattling tongues, money will buy his silence.”
“A good tailor does not make house halls.”
“He will for me.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “How can you be so arrogant?”
“It’s not arrogance. In my experience, tradesmen will accommodate a customer who pays them for their work rather than take months or even years to compensate them, like many members of the aristocracy tend to do.”
She couldn’t argue with that assessment. Creditors had been hounding her father for over a year to pay for their services.
“You speak so confidently as if people can easily be bought,” she said.
His gaze wandered to her face. “In my experience, most can, although there are exceptions.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. She lowered her gaze and pretended interest in his clothing. “Your dress is only a start. It’s not just the clothing, but how you wear them. A gentleman must move gracefully.”
“I never slouch.”
“No, you don’t. But you walk differently, like you’re always on guard.”
He walked like a predator, a large jungle cat. Dangerous, cunning, and graceful in a different way. Like he was ready to pounce on an enemy at the slightest provocation.
“A man must always be ready to protect what belongs to him,” he said.
“But you must appear at ease. Elegant, remember?”
He snorted. “Ladies are elegant.”
“Gentlemen are as well.”
“Not real men.”
As he said it she realized he was right. The men of the ton with whom she was acquainted acted more feminine than masculine. The dandies of the beau monde were more consumed with their appearance than most women. She was startled by her thoughts: she didn’t want to agree with him on any topic.
She also didn’t want to feel the slightest attraction for him. Ian Swift was different. The man radiated power and pure masculinity. It was unnerving.
“Don’t be difficult. You were raised in an earl’s household. You must have been properly tutored. You should be familiar with everything I’m saying.”
“I don’t want to talk about my upbringing,” he said in a clipped tone. “I left my father’s house long ago.”
“But you must take your deceased brother’s place as the heir to the earldom.”
“I may now be the legal heir, but I will never take my brother’s place.” His voice grated harshly.
For the first time, she realized he was not happy with the turn of events—that there was real loss beneath his armor of indifference. His tone was different than when he spoke of his father. She wondered what his relationship had been with his brother and how it had affected him.
She tilted her head to the side and regarded him. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to suggest you would replace him.”
“Then don’t,” he said. “As for tonight’s lesson, shall I show you how a real man can move?”
Before she could protest, he pulled her into his arms. She staggered forward and fell against his chest. Strong arms caught her and immediately tightened around her waist. His mouth swooped down to capture her lips. She was unprepared for the man. He was raw power, almost overwhelming. It was not a gentle or coaxing kiss but a dominant form of mastery. She stiffened and her hands came between them.
But just as quickly, the kiss changed, slowed and eased. His lips, which appeared hard, were soft and enticing as he brushed them against hers. When she gasped, he slipped his tongue in to slowly stroke hers, and a delicious heat raced through her. Never had she experienced anything so consuming. He was a master seducer. She felt herself swiftly slide into unknown territory.