by Noelle Adams
Only to draw to an abrupt halt as she saw him.
“Taking a midnight walk?” he drawled.
She scowled at him. “Were you staking out my room?”
“I promise, Ms. Edwards, I have better things to do.”
“Well, why don’t you go do them?” She gave her head a quick shake. “If you must know, I was going to the library to return this book and get another.”
She held up the book as proof. Little Women, he noticed.
“I see.” He fell in step beside her as she started down the hall.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going with you.” His tone was mocking in its excessive civility. “We would hardly let a guest wander our halls at night unchaperoned.”
Her nose wrinkled with annoyance, but she made no objections. They walked in silence to the library. He watched her browse the shelves, and it seemed to him she took an inordinate amount of time picking out a book. Probably being slow on purpose.
She wore a white cotton nightgown with lacy straps and a ruffle on the hem. It was oddly old-fashioned. Almost virginal. But when she moved in front of the only light in the room he could see the outline of her body silhouetted beneath the thin fabric.
His own body tightened at the sight of those curves—the flat belly, rounded bottom, and peaked swells of her breasts. He told himself she’d probably worn the nightgown to tempt him, and he made himself fight the arousal.
Once she finally picked out her book, he escorted her back to her suite.
In the hall outside her room, she glanced up at him, speaking for the first time in ten minutes. “I am sorry about your eye. Is it very bad?”
She seemed genuinely concerned and his resistance softened slightly. He remembered with a glimmer of amusement how exasperated she’d been in the library in battle with that wasp. “It’s fine. Next time, you’ll have to try harder.”
After a flicker of indignation, she offered a faint grin. “Yes. Next time, I’ll make sure I use a marble bookend instead of a magazine.”
He chuckled until he realized what she’d done. Then he slammed down his defenses again. She’d always been able to make him laugh, but what an absolute fool he was to so easily believe her sincerity.
The best defense was a good offense. “What is your game here?”
Marietta’s lips parted, and her gray eyes grew huge and round before blazing with anger. “I don’t have a game. And if you had a brain in your idiotic head, you’d know it.”
“I won’t let you harm me or my family.” He wasn’t touching her, but he’d stepped forward to trap her against the wall. “And I won’t let you take advantage of my uncle.”
She nearly sputtered with fury now. “What do you think I’m going to—” She broke off, and her teeth nearly snapped as she caught his implication. “Of course that’s what I’m doing! I’m here to seduce your uncle and trick him into marrying me. Then I can give him a son and disinherit all of you pesky nephews!”
He had briefly considered that possibility, but her sarcastic, bitter tone confirmed it probably wasn’t the truth. His uncle would never go for it anyway.
Still, her evident sincerity made him even more suspicious. He edged closer. She was so much smaller than he was—soft and seemingly fragile, quivering with her back against the wall.
But she wasn’t afraid of him.
“It won’t work.” He wanted to use his viper voice but couldn’t control himself enough to do it well. “Whatever it is you’re trying won’t work.”
She sucked in a harsh breath and stared up at him.
The sound of her caught breath reminded him how she’d sounded when he’d brought her to climax. He forced away the memory of Marietta’s passionate sweetness in bed. Her sensual, yielding body. Her apparent innocence. She’d been a virgin. At least, that’s what she’d said.
“You won’t be able to seduce him. And you won’t get me in bed again either, so you can save your pretty virgin routine for someone else. I’ve already offered to pay you for services rendered.”
“You bastard!” she hissed. She slapped him hard on the cheek.
He grabbed her wrist and pressed it against the wall, next to her head. “That’s the second time you’ve struck me today. I won’t let you do it again. Now answer my question.”
She trembled visibly, but he knew it was from rage rather than fear. “Damn you!”
“Ms. Edwards,” he bit out, still gripping her wrist. He refused to think of her as Etta. “Tell me why you’re here.”
Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes flashing. Her dark golden hair tumbled around her face, and one of her lacy straps had slipped down over her smooth shoulder.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A fact that made him even angrier.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she spit at him. “One taste of your irresistible self—your alluring charm and unbridled sexiness—just wasn’t enough. I’m here to throw myself on your mercy and beg you to take me back.”
Harrison lashed out at her venom with the only means he had available.
He kissed her—hard, deep, and punishing. He pressed into her with the length of his body, and his mouth devoured hers with a fervor that stunned him.
She remained motionless until he drew his head back, panting.
Her lips red and swollen, she glowered. “See?” she said, shaky but undaunted. “It’s working already.”
Irrationally, inexplicably, Harrison felt a flood of admiration. She might be a selfish, deceptive predator, but never had he met another woman with such a vibrant will and courageous spirit.
He kissed her again—still hard and angry. But another passion consumed him as he claimed her mouth with his. This time, she responded.
Her free arm hooked around his neck, and her soft form clung to his. Aroused improbably soon, he pressed his pelvis against her lower belly, wanting her to feel every part of him.
She whimpered into his mouth, and their tongues tangled together. Even through his blur of desire, he knew the passion was mutual. He wasn’t the only one overwhelmed. Wasn’t the only one whose body hungered to once again claim the other’s.
He broke the kiss so he could mouth his way down her jaw to her throat. One of his hands still held her wrist to the wall, and the other had slid under her nightgown to palm her bottom. She wore deliciously flimsy panties, and the flesh beneath the fabric was lush. She smelled of something spicy like ginger—perhaps a scented lotion—and of the fainter, more tantalizing scent of her arousal.
Marietta arched against the wall, pressing her breasts into his chest. “Harry,” she gasped.
And that brought him back to his senses.
He jerked away, hot and uncomfortably aroused. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d almost given in—even knowing she’d done nothing but lie.
“My name,” he bit out, “is Harrison Damon.”
Her free hand flew at him as her passion transformed to rage. He caught it and held both wrists against the wall, trapping her completely.
He stared down at her. They were both flushed and panting, but her quaking had intensified. In addition to the anger, tears glistened in her eyes.
In a rush, he realized she was scared and helpless. And he gripped her wrists so hard, they’d probably bruise.
He had no idea what had come over him. He’d never been so unrestrained. He lived his life by certain rules. He was physically stronger than Marietta. She was a guest in his house.
And no matter what the provocation, he didn’t treat women this way.
He dropped her wrists brusquely and took two quick steps backward.
A wave of guilt mingled with the lingering ire and passion. It was too much.
Without a word, he strode away, leaving Marietta alone in the hall.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Marietta decided to go into town. She wanted to get out of a house full of Damons for a while, and needed to buy clothes and some books to read, since evi
dently she would have a lot of time to herself this week.
When she’d explained to Gordon what she wanted to do, he’d sounded amenable. She expected one of the staff would drive her into Dover, so it startled her when she went out to the garage and found Harrison waiting for her.
He was dressed more casually than he’d been the last couple of days, in khaki trousers and a dark brown dress shirt. The bruise under his eye was faint, which relieved Marietta’s conscience.
“I’ll drive you to town,” he said.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’re busy. I could just take a taxi.”
“Nonsense. You’re a guest.”
She assumed that fact covered all possible arguments. Harrison shared his uncle’s sense of values—including those connected to hospitality. Damons treated their guests to every courtesy and privilege. Except when they were demeaned and insulted in the middle of a hallway at night.
“Before we go,” Harrison said, his lips tightening as he glanced away and then back to meet her eyes, “I wanted to apologize for last night.”
Last night had been very upsetting. She shouldn’t have expected anything different from a Damon, but she’d still been shocked by the intensity of both his anger and hers. What she found most troubling, though, was that she’d responded to his kiss—the second one, the real kiss, not a channeling of anger. She’d been swept away and would have let him take her to bed.
She’d wanted him to take her to bed, no matter how enraged she’d been and how hurt by his accusations.
Realizing Harrison was waiting for a response, she asked, “Which part of last night did you want to apologize for?”
His brows drew together. “For the way I treated you. I was… It was inexcusable.” He offered no justification, proving that his apology was sincere.
“So you’re not apologizing for your accusations?”
“You think I have reason to trust you?”
She shook her head, feeling sad rather than furious. “I think the reasons you don’t trust me aren’t strong enough to hold up.”
He didn’t respond. He just regarded her with that quiet scrutiny she’d seen so often over the last two days.
Exhaling loudly, she said, “Thanks for driving me to town. Why don’t we get going?”
The trip wasn’t as awkward as she’d feared. Since he’d apologized, it would be petty to keep being rude. They talked about the estate and the countryside, and she grew interested in the Damon history he shared. It wasn’t long before they parked at a department store.
“Maybe I can meet you somewhere in a couple of hours. I’m buying clothes, which I’m sure will be of no interest to you.”
“Why do you need clothes?”
She looked at him like he was crazy. “Because I’d packed for two days and I’m staying a week. And I certainly don’t have anything appropriate for that fancy dinner party Friday night. Your uncle invited me, you know.”
“I know.”
“It’s formal, right?”
“Black tie, yes. But we could have—”
“I buy my own clothes. I’m sure I can find something here. I can meet you—”
“I have nothing else to do. I’ll go with you.”
Rolling her eyes, she stopped arguing, figuring he’d give up after a few minutes of trailing around after her. Harrison didn’t complain, but he kept looking at his watch while she bought another pair of pants, and picked out a couple of tops.
He perked up when she got to the lingerie, though. He shook his head gravely at the simple cotton panties she examined and instead offered her the most outrageous bright pink lace thong trimmed with fur. She couldn’t repress a giggle at his deadpan expression, although she strove to stifle her merriment, to keep him from knowing he’d scored a victory.
She compromised on a few pretty pairs of satin panties and grabbed some fine stockings for the party.
When they moved on to formal wear, she was at a loss. She’d rarely attended formal functions, and wasn’t sure what would look best on her. To be safe, she considered a rack of long, simple black dresses. Not particularly exciting, but at least she’d look decent and wouldn’t stand out.
She was about to take one in her size when Harrison nudged her.
With that same deadpan expression, he handed her a dress he’d picked out.
Her eyes widened. From his expression, she would have thought he was joking again, but the garment he’d given her was quite lovely.
It wasn’t anything she would have picked out for herself. But she was curious about why Harrison had chosen it, so she checked the size—the right one—and took it to the dressing room.
The dress was actually two pieces. A camisole-like top in ivory silk with delicate embroidery and beading and a long black silk skirt with a very high slit on one side.
She stared at herself after she put it on. She’d never looked better in her life. It was perfect for her—showing off her tan and the contours of her shoulders, arms, and cleavage. The contrast between the old-fashioned delicacy of the top and the simple elegance of the skirt struck the perfect balance between the classic and the unique.
She left the dressing room stall to view herself in the three angled mirrors and check herself out from behind.
As she twirled, astounded by how pretty she looked, she noticed Harrison leaning against the wall, watching her with his hands in his pockets.
“Do you think it’s all right?”
His gaze ran up and down her figure. “It’s good. I think you should buy it.”
Not high praise. Certainly nothing like the hoarse endearments he’d murmured when she was in his arms in Monte Carlo. Then, he’d said she was beautiful. She wondered if he’d meant it.
He’d probably just picked the dress out to hurry her along, but she loved it anyway.
She bought the garment, and they left the department store. In the car, she took malicious pleasure witnessing Harrison’s disgruntled expression when she declared she also needed to go to a bookstore.
“We have hundreds of books in the library,” he said, staring at her as he pulled out of the parking garage.
“Not the kinds of books I’m in the mood to read.” She shrank against her seat as they approached an intersection and he still hadn’t turned his eyes back to the road. “There’s a red light!”
He’d already started to put on the brakes. He rolled his eyes but bit back whatever grumble he’d wanted to make.
He really was on his best behavior. She’d seen the flood of guilt in his eyes last night, just before he’d walked away. She’d known he wouldn’t hurt her, no matter how angry he got. Whatever else he was, he was at heart a gentleman—and it would trouble him that he hadn’t been gentlemanly last night. Today he appeared determined to be civil and decent to her.
He drove her to a large bookstore. A wonderful one, with shelves and shelves of books in all genres, as well as armchairs and a coffee shop.
To her relief, Harrison bought himself a coffee and sat down to read the paper while she browsed. She hadn’t wanted him at her heels while she picked out books.
She went to the mysteries first and found three by authors she liked. As she passed by the coffee shop area, she happened to see Harrison checking his watch.
An irresistible urge to tease him overtook her. He thought she was a lying schemer. He deserved a little payback. Giving in to the urge, she brought her books to his table.
He glanced up with pleased surprise. “Ready to go?”
She frowned. “No. I’ve just started looking.”
“It looks like you have three books. Surely that’s enough.”
“All I have are mysteries. I need some romances, too. Here, can you watch these for me?”
He cut wary eyes up to her face, but she kept her expression innocent. Then she headed over to the romance section.
She took her time, reading cover blurbs and skimming through first chapters. She came away with a historical romance, a c
ouple of romantic comedies, and three series contemporaries. The sight of a racy cover piqued her interest, so she picked up an erotic romance from the shelf. Glancing through it, she decided it looked pretty good.
With a smile, she added it to the top of her pile and headed back to Harrison.
His eyes widened when he saw the number of books she had in her arms. “Are you really going to read all those this week?”
“I have a lot of free time,” she said. “And I read fast.”
She set the books on the table just as he moved to get up. His eyes narrowed.
“I’m not done yet. But if you’re in a hurry, I’m happy to take a taxi back to the manor.”
He clenched his jaw. “Of course not,” he ground out, grabbing his newspaper again.
“I’ll be quick,” she lied.
She’d made sure the erotic romance was on top of the pile, then found a rack of popular biographies situated where she could view Harrison’s table discreetly.
For about five minutes, he read his paper and finished his coffee. Then he folded the paper and must have caught sight of the sexually provocative romance cover.
His eyebrows lifted, and he picked it up. To her delight, he opened the book and riffed through the pages. He must have found a good part, because he stopped skimming and started to read.
His dark eyebrows shot higher and higher, and she fought to stifle her laughter.
Then he looked up as a man approached his table. He must have been an acquaintance, because Harrison smiled and reached out to shake his hand.
When the man turned, Marietta saw his clerical collar.
Harrison realized he was still holding the erotic romance. He flopped the book onto the table, but not before the priest’s eyes doubled in size.
Marietta giggled at Harrison’s mortified expression. Her mirth made her careless. She forgot to duck behind the rack of books and Harrison’s glare landed on her.
His narrow-eyed look of icy rage sent her into another fit of hilarity, and she had to hide her face behind a biography she’d pulled off the shelf.
