by Cheryl Holt
“You should be both. You get to have me all to yourself, and I am wrapped around your little finger.”
She smiled such a delicious smile that he could hardly stand to observe it. He suspected it was exactly the kind of smile Eve had flashed at Adam. No wonder the poor dolt had been destroyed. What man could resist a smile like that? What man was strong enough?
“I had the most depressing week,” he said.
“Why? Was the inquest terrible?”
“It was fine. It concluded as I was hoping, but the whole thing was stressful.”
“Of course it was. You had to sit there and have your father’s murder recounted over and over.”
“The worst of it happened away from the hearing. My friend, Nathan Blake, came face to face with Judah Barnett out on the street.”
She blanched. “Did Lord Selby kill him?”
“No, but he assaulted him in front of a crowd of spectators.”
“Good for him.”
“In Africa, Nathan wore a knife on his belt. It was a gift from my father. When I visited him at Selby, he told me Judah took it that day in the jungle. He claimed Judah cut it off his belt and kept it as a souvenir.”
“How shockingly awful.”
He sighed, regret bubbling up. “I’ve known Judah for over a decade, and I couldn’t conceive of him acting that way, but Nathan was so enraged about it that I rode to the Haven and checked Judah’s belongings. Guess what?”
“You found the knife?”
“Yes, hidden in a trunk.”
“What will you do about it? You have to respond somehow, don’t you?”
“I already responded. I kicked him off the expedition team and tossed him out of my house. I’ve parted with him forever.”
“I never liked him,” she said, “and I’m not sorry he’s gone.”
He snorted at that. “It was difficult for me to send him away, and he was very upset.”
“Might he retaliate? Should you be worried?”
“If he lashes out at all, he’ll try to tarnish Sir Sidney’s legacy by spreading bad stories about him. Then I’d be forced to remind everyone of how he left Nathan for dead. I’m predicting he’s smart enough to avoid that type of quarrel.”
She grinned an impish grin. “Are there bad stories about Sir Sidney?”
“Yes, and since you have custody of two of his natural children, you’re aware of what some of them are, so don’t expect me to clarify.”
She riffled her fingers through his hair and said, “It’s all over now: the hearing, the memorials, the issue with Lord Selby and Mr. Barnett. You can stop fretting and move on.”
“It’s not over with Nathan. I have to mend fences with him.”
“I’m sure you will eventually.”
“You haven’t seen how livid he is.”
“Other than his temper, what’s he like? I’ve read so much about him in the newspapers, but the stories focus on his exploits, not his personality.”
Nathan was such a complex fellow. How to describe him in a few words? “He’s brave and clever and loyal, but he’s very stubborn, and he can be extremely imperious. Most of the time, he behaves like a royal prince. Even as a boy, he was so annoyingly arrogant. He can be exhausting.”
“I’d like to meet him someday.”
“Well, you’re not going to,” he sternly told her. “You’d probably like him more than me, and he’d steal you away.”
“Who says I like you in the first place? And I don’t believe I’m yours for anyone to steal.”
“You’re mostly mine, and could we not talk about Nathan? I finally have you in my bed, and I’d like you to concentrate on me and no one else.”
The petulant comment had her chuckling. “You poor baby. You never get the attention you deserve.”
“Not from you anyway.” He studied her, wondering how to begin, and he simply jumped into the fire. “I have to ask you a question, and you must consider your answer. You can’t stomp out in a huff.”
“Why are you certain I’ll stomp out? If it’s a horrid topic, why raise it?”
“I’m anxious for us to always be together.”
She froze, then shook her head. “No, you aren’t.”
“Yes, I am. You make me happy, and it seems as if we’re destined for a remarkable ending.”
“For reasons I can’t fathom, you’ve decided I fascinate you, and it’s distorting your view of our relationship. I’m betting in another month or two, you’ll be sick of me, and you’ll be chasing debutantes again.”
He scoffed with feigned offense. “I’ve never chased a debutante in my life.”
“What about your cousin, Veronica?”
“I’ve definitely never chased her, and as with Nathan, could we not talk about other women?”
“If you insist, but it’s important to point out that you’re acting like a lunatic with regard to me.”
“I’ve never felt clearer about what I want.”
“And what is it you want?”
“I want you to be my mistress.”
“Your mistress? Really?”
She started to laugh, and she was chortling quite merrily. It wasn’t anywhere close to the response he’d anticipated. He’d predicted a range of emotions from a blunt refusal to grave moral outrage. He hadn’t foreseen vast amusement.
“Why are you laughing?” he grumpily asked. “It was a serious suggestion.”
“I’m so accursedly gullible. When you stated that you were anxious for us to always be together, I suffered a moment of insanity where I thought you were about to propose marriage.”
“Oh.” His cheeks heated with chagrin.
“I was frantically struggling to figure out how to dissuade you.”
He frowned. “Why dissuade me? Every girl in the world would like to marry me. Why not you?”
“I’d love to wed, but I’m holding out for a husband who dotes on me and, since I’m an orphan, I’d like a family to call my own. With how your mother and sister despise me, they’d never accept me as your wife.”
“Probably not.” He wouldn’t pretend Gertrude or Ophelia would ever like her. “I hate that you’re so smart.”
“Yes, it’s an incredible burden. Now then, let me up.”
“Why?”
“This discussion has yanked me to my senses,” she said.
“What’s wrong with your senses?”
“We have an odd attraction that bewilders me, and I’ve allowed it to flare. I can’t help myself, but it’s futile. We can’t pursue it, and I in particular have to buck up, ignore you, and behave myself.”
She tried to skitter away, so he rolled onto her, his larger body pinning her to the mattress. Nothing especially interesting had happened yet, and until it did, he wasn’t about to have her leave.
“Why this sudden urge to behave?” he inquired.
“I could get myself into a great deal of trouble with you. You’re too much man for me to handle.”
“I’m too much man for every woman.”
“You’re humble about it too.”
She relaxed, giving him the impression that he’d cajoled her into tarrying, but just when he wasn’t paying attention, she scooted away and sat up. She appeared fond, but exasperated, and she laid a palm on his chest, directly over his heart.
“Thank you for inviting me to be your mistress,” she said. “I’m flattered that you would consider me for such a role, but I could never agree.”
“Why not?”
“There’s no benefit for me to agree. You’d trifle with me until some other female caught your eye, then you’d toss me over. I’d be ruined and forsaken. I’m already forsaken, which is a hideous situation to be in, and I’d rather not be ruined too.”
“I’m rich, Sarah.”
“I know that about you, Sebastian.”
“I could shower you with gifts and money. I’d buy you gorgeous gowns. I’d purchase a house for you and staff it with a dozen servants. You could even have a carriage. You’d
live like a princess.”
She scowled. “Do I look like the kind of person who’s hoping for a wardrobe filled with pretty gowns?”
Where she was concerned, he was so clueless. He could only gape at her and ask, “Isn’t that what every female craves?”
She tsked with irritation. “You don’t understand me, and we have naught in common. The longer you talk, the more you’re making me realize it.”
He was irked that he’d mucked up his offer, but also because he couldn’t bear to have her depart. He was eager for her to stay the night, and he had numerous intriguing ideas as to how they could wile away the hours.
He clasped her wrist and said, “If you don’t desire what any sane, ordinary woman would choose, how can I tempt you? What tickles your fancy?”
“I’ve told you before. I’d like to reopen my orphanage. I also have to find a safe place for Noah and Pet, but I’ll work to keep them with me.”
“You seek advantages for others. You never request anything for yourself. How am I to entice you when you’re so noble?”
“I’m generous and grateful because of the lessons I learned from my father when I was growing up. When he adopted me, he saved me from the sea of unwanted children. I honor his legacy by helping others. That’s who I am. That’s who you’re attempting to seduce.”
“I’m botching it too, aren’t I?”
“Yes, and I should be going. I’m sure Noah and Pet are worried about me.”
“Forget about them. At the moment, I need you more than they do.”
She smirked. “What a ridiculous comment.”
“I seem to be full of them.”
She leaned down and kissed him, then she eased away and slid to her feet.
“I’m glad your stressful week is over,” she said.
“So am I.”
“What are your plans now?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“You’ll have some leisure time to ponder. Will you return to Africa?”
“I doubt it.”
“I’ll be relieved if you never return,” she said. “I’d fret too much.”
“Then I’ll definitely remain in England—just to keep you happy.”
“Would you visit me tomorrow? I’d like to discuss Noah and Pet and your supporting them. Perhaps you could even fund an orphanage for me. We could name it after your father: The Sir Sidney Home for Orphaned Waifs.”
Sebastian sputtered with amusement. “I can’t believe you suggested it. You are such a brazen hussy.”
“I always have been.”
“Tell me who your father was. You know, don’t you? Don’t lie to me.”
She paused, then grinned. “Oh, yes, I know who he was.”
“Was he a king?”
“You can reflect on it until you drive yourself mad.”
“Wench. Would you really rather spend the night at the cottage by yourself?”
“Well, I can’t spend it with you. You’re deranged if you thought I might, and I can’t determine why I let you drag me up here.”
“It was worth it.”
“Maybe.”
She winked at him and headed for the door, and he said, “It’s dark out. I should walk you over.”
“I’d never arrive. You’d constantly ambush me with compliments and kisses.”
“How did you guess?”
“You are not a mystery to me, Sebastian Sinclair. And besides, I can’t be observed strolling through the park with you.”
“You’re crushing my ego.”
“Someone should.”
Then she was gone, and he flopped onto the pillow and stared at the ceiling.
He’d led her to his bedchamber, had shared a passionate interlude, and then?
He’d asked her to be his mistress, and he’d bungled it. His lewd proposition had yanked her to her senses and had sent her fleeing.
It was so quiet without her, and his room felt positively claustrophobic without her in it. He dawdled in the silence, wondering what time it was, wondering how long it would be before he’d see her again. How long could he bear to be away from her?
He didn’t think it would be very long at all.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sarah was in her bedroom at the cottage. A candle burned over on the dresser, casting forlorn shadows. She was standing at the window and staring out at the stars, but it was cloudy so there was nothing to see.
Hours earlier, she’d crawled under the blanket and had tried to doze off, but she couldn’t sleep.
She was wearing just her summer nightgown, her arms and feet bare. It was chilly, so she should have been freezing, but she was burning with torrid thoughts of what had nearly happened over at the Haven.
Sebastian had asked her to be his mistress! Had he actually presumed she’d agree? Did she appear that desperate?
Well, yes.
The pathetic fact was that she’d been tantalized by his suggestion. Sick as it sounded, she longed to remain with him in any manner she could arrange. If an illicit amour was the sole way to bind herself, why not proceed? Any other destitute female would probably have jumped at the chance. As he liked to point out, he was very rich. With a snap of his fingers, he could fix her problems. Why not let him?
But she could never participate in such an immoral relationship, and she’d have wound up with a broken heart. She already felt as if it was broken, and she hadn’t yet misbehaved to any significant degree.
In her entire twenty-seven years, she’d never grieved over her low birth status. She’d grown up around children who were in her exact same boat, sired by wealthy, reckless men who pretended they didn’t exist.
Suddenly, she was wishing she was a duke’s pretty daughter. Why settle for a duke? Why couldn’t she have been born a princess? Why not? Wouldn’t it be marvelous to be precisely the woman he needed?
The door opened behind her, and for a second, she closed her eyes and a wave of gladness flowed through her. Had she conjured him merely from pondering him so intently?
When he wasn’t being a pompous oaf, he could be so incredibly wonderful. Apparently, she wouldn’t be spending the night by herself.
She grabbed the shutters and latched them, then she spun to face him.
“We have to quit meeting like this,” she teased.
“I know, but I missed you.”
“We’ve only been apart for a few hours.”
“And every minute was torture.”
The room was very small, and in two strides, he was across the floor. She figured he would kiss her, but to her great surprise, he clasped her hand and dropped to one knee. A gentleman only adopted that stance when he was about to propose marriage, so she was a tad startled.
“Over in my bedchamber,” he said, “I insulted you.”
“I wasn’t insulted.” She frowned, then said, “Maybe I was, but I hope you realize why I had to refuse.”
“After you left, I was so lonely. I tried to deduce what was wrong, and finally, it hit me. I can’t bear to live without you. Will you marry me?”
She scowled ferociously. “You’re not serious. You had a difficult week, and you’re not thinking clearly.”
“I’m not confused about what I want. Say yes. Say you’ll have me.”
“I won’t. Now get up.”
She attempted to lift him to his feet, but he wouldn’t budge.
“You can’t decline,” he said.
“Yes, I can. We’re scarcely acquainted, and your family would never approve.”
“Bugger my family,” he crudely muttered. “This doesn’t have anything to do with them.”
“Don’t be absurd. It has everything to do with them.”
“No, it’s about you and me and how happy you make me. It’s all that matters.”
She sighed. “If only that were true.”
“I won’t allow you to spurn me.”
“I believe I already have.”
“No. This was my initial salvo. I have until dawn to
change your mind.”
“You can’t change it.”
“I’ll simply keep on until you stop being so silly.”
“I’m saving you from the biggest mistake of your life, and I am the one who’s being silly?”
“Yes, and I’m weary of listening to you complain. Please be silent.”
He stood, and he was so tall that he towered over her. Was that deliberate? Would he intimidate her into it?
Before she suspected his wily plan, he clutched her by the waist and tumbled them onto her bed. It was quite a step down from the grand bed in the master’s chamber at the Haven. It was barely wide enough for them to lie down, barely sturdy enough to hold their combined weight.
She didn’t protest or wiggle away because she didn’t want to escape. She’d never met a man like him and didn’t suppose she’d ever have another chance like this. What could it hurt to misbehave a little?
She’d always been intrigued as to why females ruined themselves, and she was twenty-seven. Wasn’t it time she learned some of what other women had learned?
From the strident embraces they’d shared, he’d tantalized her with hints of how delicious passion could be. Why not discover what else he might show her? She knew how babies were created, and if she never walked to the end, where was the harm?
He began kissing her and kissing her, but every so often, he’d pause to ask, “Will you marry me, Sarah?”
She’d shake her head, and he’d scoff at her foolishness and start in again.
Gradually, he was removing her nightgown. Would she let him? It seemed as if she would. He was pulling it up her legs, past her shins, her knees, until fabric was bunched at the top of her thighs.
She came to her senses and drew away.
“Wait, wait,” she said.
“Wait for what?”
“What’s happening?”
“I intend to get you naked.”
“Sebastian Sinclair! You do not.”
“You have to agree, Sarah, that so far in our relationship I’ve been a perfect gentleman.”
“By what standard? You keep sneaking into my bedchamber, and I can’t convince you to desist.”
He shifted onto his haunches and stunned her by tugging off his shirt and tossing it on the floor.
“We’re not disrobing.” Her tone was scolding.
“I’ve simply taken off my shirt,” he told her as he snuggled down. “I’d hardly call that disrobing.”
