Emma’s laugh was light and free spirited. “So she inherited her father’s charm. Does that mean you are also smitten with the child?”
The answer to Emma’s question was so obvious to both of them that Elizabeth didn’t concern herself with responding.
“Will you now tell me how you came to be living with Wesbrook and his child?”
With a sigh, Elizabeth rose from the settee and walked to the window overlooking the garden. She spotted Aunt Millie and Phoebe strolling along the path, hand in hand, most likely planning their next undertaking. “I’m not exactly sure how it happened. I can only attribute my hasty decision to your influence. One moment I overhear Gabe talking to Marcus about being unable to locate someone to care for Phoebe, the next, I’m standing in the study, offering to do it.” She spun to face Emma. “So, here I am. Living with the man I love, taking care of his child, and he hasn’t given any indication he realizes I’m even here.”
Never one to be serious, Emma gave Elizabeth a weak smile. “You are right. It sounds like something I’d get myself into. What do you know of the child’s past? Her mother?”
“Not much. Gabe hasn’t been forthcoming with any details. I’m not sure I want to know. But the housekeeper did mention Phoebe had rarely resided with her mother. From the time she was a baby she’d been in the care of a nanny. After Phoebe’s mother died, the elderly nanny decided to move in with her sister instead of traveling with Phoebe to London. Not only is the child without a mother, she also lost the only stable person in her life.”
Just repeating the story caused her insides to churn the same as when the housekeeper had first told her. It made Elizabeth wonder more about the woman Gabe had fathered a child with. How could she abandon her baby?
“Poor child. What are you going to do now?”
Elizabeth crossed to the desk where the letters still sat. “I’m going to continue to look through these, find an appropriate governess, and while I’m doing that, I’m somehow going to make one stubborn duke see me as more than his friend’s little sister.”
“If you ask me, you need to do something to make him stand and take notice.”
Elizabeth’s brows rose. “Oh? And how exactly do I do that? I’m already living in his home.”
“Yes. In a house so large, two people could manage to avoid each other indefinitely.” A look filled with pure naughtiness broke over Emma’s face. “You, my friend, need to make it impossible for him to overlook you. Appear when and where he wouldn’t expect it. Think about it. You have access to his home, his domain. Even if he is gone during the day, he’s bound to return eventually. All you need to do is be there when he does.”
Elizabeth stared her friend skeptically. “Are you saying I should lie in wait for him to return at night?”
Emma leaned forward slightly. “Not simply wait, but wait in something enticing.”
“Enticing? Wh-What do you mean enticing?” Elizabeth sputtered.
Emma waved off Elizabeth’s concerns. “You make it sound shameful. I’m merely suggesting that after you are in your nightgown, ready for bed, you should suddenly remember you need a book from the study or a nightcap or some other somewhat plausible excuse. If that happens to coincide with Wesbrook returning for the evening, so be it. It isn’t like I’m talking about reclining in a chair, in his study, completely unclothed.”
After years of listening to Emma’s forthright language, she shouldn’t be shocked by anything her friend said. Yet Emma speaking so nonchalantly amazed Elizabeth the most, as if talking about sitting in a gentleman’s study naked was ordinary behavior.
That comment aside, Emma’s suggestion did have merit. If she did nothing while Gabe went about his business and managed to avoid her while doing so, what would she accomplish by being here—other than starting to care deeply for a child she had no right to love?
“Besides, this is Wesbrook. You’ll be safe with him. He wouldn’t compromise you,” Emma added.
Elizabeth sank into the chair next to the desk, trying to decide if she was worried Gabe would compromise her—or that he wouldn’t.
Chapter 9
On the dawn side of midnight, Gabe climbed the stairs to his home. He’d found returning at such an hour quite useful in avoiding the sensual problem filling the nooks and crannies of his former, female-free residence.
His mother had her own residence in London and he preferred it that way. Besides the servants, no women entered his home, at least none before Elizabeth. When he needed female companionship, he satisfied his requirements elsewhere.
Whatever he’d been doing must be working because he’d seen little of Elizabeth since she’d moved in, other than the fateful day he’d come across them dancing in the ballroom. He’d managed to steer clear of her by spending his days either at Gentleman Jackson’s—trying to release some lustful tension by beating a few young pups—or traipsing around town searching for clues as to his blackmailer’s identity. He’d even attempted to stake out where he’d dropped the money two days ago. All he’d come away with was a sore back from standing in the cramped alcove across from the drop location all day. When he wasn’t obsessed with his blackmailer, his evenings were filled with boring conversation and useless card play at one of his various clubs or at a crowded gaming hell.
But it all served a purpose; to keep him away from Elizabeth. There had been one unfortunate setback. She might be out of his sight, but she had never been far from his thoughts. Something he blamed on her lingering scent. Not only did it seem to have filled every room of his house but it appeared to have penetrated his clothing. He could be sitting in a smoke filled parlor, trying to get his alcohol-hazed mind to focus on his cards, when without warning the scent of lilac would overtake him.
On a few rare occasions, he had found himself whipping around, looking for her. The sight of scantily clad lightskirts hanging on the arms of the men in the room quickly dispelled any illusion of Elizabeth being there.
The chit was slowly driving him insane.
If not for the reports Wilkes had given him regarding Phoebe and her continued improvement, he’d insist Elizabeth’s offer to help had come to naught and send her packing, right back to her brother. Anything to get her out of his house. Unfortunately for him, Wilkes had nothing but praise for Elizabeth. He might not be much of a father, but he wouldn’t jeopardize his daughter’s wellbeing just to keep Elizabeth at a distance. Dismay swept through him knowing he had no choice but to continue to avoid her by staying away.
He entered the house, not surprised Wilkes wasn’t there to attend to him. Unwilling to inconvenience his staff with his late night endeavors, he had long ago instructed Wilkes to retire instead of waiting for his return. He was more than capable of seeing to his own needs.
He’d lifted his foot to climb the stairs when he noticed a faint light coming from the direction of his study. Odd. Who would be in the study, especially at the late hour? Set on investigating the source, he changed course and headed down the hall, following the light. The only sound came from the muted clip of his boots, echoing on the wood floor.
He stepped into the doorway of the room and froze. Expecting an empty room with an unextinguished lamp, he found himself paralyzed by the vision before him. In a circle of golden light stood Elizabeth, studying the book she held. Finding her alone didn’t hold him immobile, but her standing in his study, in the middle of the night—in her nightgown—did.
Under normal circumstances her choice of sleeping attire would be considered modest, with its long sleeves and high neckline. However, with the lamp set slightly behind her, it appeared almost transparent, revealing a perfect silhouette of her shape. His body stirred instantly at the sight.
He didn’t even have the luxury of blaming his sudden erection on overindulgence in drink, since he had called it an evening long before he’d become f
oxed.
He raked his eyes over her slender form, starting with the blond curls flowing unbound down her back. He took in the deep concentration on her face and the slight crease it created between her eyes. He couldn’t recall anything as endearing as the delicate crinkle and found himself wanting to place a light kiss on that very spot. The unusual tenderness she elicited momentarily stunned him—and frankly left him troubled. He swept his eyes further, to the elegant curve of her neck, finding more places he’d like to bestow lingering kisses.
A fraction lower, his gaze stopped at her breasts. He swallowed through his growing desire. Even without the support of a corset, her breasts were high and appeared to be a perfect handful. His hands tightened with the longing to reach out and test the theory.
Before he lost complete control of himself, he tore his eyes from her breasts and skimmed over her slim waist, knowing his arms would easily encompass her frame. Avoiding the one place that would snap his restraint, he finished the perusal of her body by envisioning her long, lean legs wrapped around his waist as he found her center.
He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wipe the vision from his mind. He hadn’t spent the last few days and nights avoiding her, not to mention this very situation, only to surrender to his lust at the first moment of temptation.
Somehow alerted to his presence, when he opened his eyes Elizabeth was no longer fixated on the book but on him. In the dimness of the room, he couldn’t decipher the green of her eyes, but there was no mistaking the flare of passion that flickered within, a passion that mirrored his own. And he knew he was lost. In no way would he be able to turn and walk away after seeing her echo his desire.
All the hunger he had felt since he realized she’d grown into a tempting woman erupted into something he had never experienced before. Knowing it wrong, but unable to stop, he strode across the room and had her in his arms before she uttered a sound.
He crushed her soft lips beneath his, in a kiss meant to ravish. She stiffened for only a second, before her body melted into his. The book thudded on the floor as her hands rose to his shoulders.
At her tentative touch, he softened the kiss. She emitted a light sigh, opening her mouth to him, and he touched his tongue to hers. A deep moan wrenched its way from his gut as her tongue brazenly stroked his in return. Bloody hell! Where had she learned to kiss like that?
His shaft tightened to the point of pain.
Desperate to feel more of her, his hand traced her back and cupped her round bottom, tugging her into closer contact with his hard length. Her sighs deepened and her hands rose to fist in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his lips into deeper contact with hers.
He palmed her hips, holding her still as he swept his lips across her cheek and down her neck, where he pressed kisses and light flicks of his tongue.
“Ahh, Minx,” he murmured against her silky skin. “You taste like heaven.”
His hands traveled up her body, and through her nightgown, he cupped the curves of her breasts. She tensed slightly at the intimate caress. “Relax, sweetheart. I just want to touch you.” He rubbed a thumb over the hard nipple and was rewarded when her body quivered in his arms. “I need to touch you.”
A soft moan fell from her lips and her body relaxed once again. He accepted her invitation as he hungrily reclaimed her lips, while his hand kneaded her breast.
Out of nowhere a pounding need to feel her beneath him took control, and he lifted her into his arms. Keeping her lips busy with his, Gabe carried her to the settee.
Once he laid her on the wide cushion, he followed, resting his hard body on her soft curves. His fingers made quick work of the buttons on the front of her nightgown. He peeled back the sides and feasted his gaze on her creamy breasts. “You are so beautiful.”
Unable to resist tasting her delicate skin, he slowly lowered his head and trailed his lips down her neck, stopping to breathe in her womanly scent with its trace of lilac. The fragrance would stay with him forever.
Drawn to her exposed breasts, he bent and took a taut nipple into his mouth. She wriggled so sweetly beneath him.
“Oh, Gabe, I’ve dreamed of this,” she whispered, her voice so faint he almost didn’t hear her.
Yet he had.
His body stilled. What the hell was he doing? This was Elizabeth, not his mistress and certainly not some doxy. Straightening, he pulled her gown together and with unsteady fingers, hastily buttoned it.
“Gabe? Gabe, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice shaking.
Once he had her properly covered, he retreated to the end of the settee and dropped his head in his hands. The cushion dipped as she scrambled into a sitting position on the other end.
He was afraid to look at her. Afraid of what he’d see in her eyes. The last thing he wanted was for Elizabeth to hate him. He didn’t know why but for some reason she still saw good in him, still thought him the young man he’d once been, before he’d become so like his father. If he lost Elizabeth, he might lose the only piece of himself that remained.
He lowered his hands but kept his head bent. Regret and shame—and lingering desire—deepened his voice to a husky rasp. “I’m sorry. That should never have happened. I should never have touched you.”
His body cringed at her soft gasp. From somewhere inside, he found the power to lift his head to look at her. Hurt glittered in her green eyes, along with unshed tears. His gut clenched at seeing the pain he’d caused, all because he couldn’t control his cravings.
I’m a bastard.
A deep-seated need to erase the hurt from her face rose in him. He pleaded with her to understand. “Minx, please don’t cry. I’d do anything to keep from hurting you.” He reached for her but she leapt from the settee, out of his reach. “Please understand, Elizabeth. I’m not the man for you. I can’t be.”
Tears filled her words and tore at his heart. “Why? Why not?”
He didn’t want to do what he felt he must. Every fiber of his being screamed for him not to. But he couldn’t think of any other way to make her understand the kind of man he was, one who would hurt her in more ways than she could possibly comprehend. She didn’t know the horrible things he’d done. And a man capable of murder was far less than she deserved.
He flexed his jaw and bit out the words. “Elizabeth, you mean a lot to me and you’ll always hold an important place in my life but I can’t offer you more than this. I can’t do that to you. You deserve so much more than a tumble on a settee.” When she started to turn away, he hurried to her side and grabbed her arm to stop her.
At his touch, she pulled away, as if it burned her. “Please understand. If this continued, I’d have ruined you. And then where would you be? I can’t marry you.”
Her eyes pressed closed and when they opened, fury masked her pain. “Stop treating me as if I don’t know my own mind! If you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown woman.” With a deep breath she seemed in complete control of herself. “I’ll continue to help with Phoebe only until a governess is found, but don’t touch me again.”
Before he could stop her, she rushed from the room.
“Elizabeth. Elizabeth, stop!”
She never turned back.
Chapter 10
Elizabeth angrily brushed the tears from her face as she raced up the stairs, barefoot. She didn’t stop until she reached her room and secured the door. Not because she was worried Gabe would follow. He’d left no doubt as to his feelings for her.
She let her body slouch against the door. He had made it quite clear he didn’t want anything from her. Well, nothing besides a quick tumble.
How did this happen? One moment she’d been in his embrace, feeling sensations she’d never imagined existed. It had felt like heaven with Gabe’s strong arms around her, his lips kissing her, his rough hands touching her. A
nd just as quickly, she’d fallen from paradise.
Elizabeth took a deep breath and released it slowly. How could he shut everything off and spurn her so easily? It had taken her several moments to collect herself. Hadn’t he been swept away as she had? Her entire body had been on fire.
None of it made sense. He had been so gentle. Then, to repeat several times how he couldn’t be with her. Not that he didn’t want to be . . . but couldn’t.
Needing some air, she pushed away from the door, crossed to the window, and opened it. She peered out into the night as the breeze cooled her overheated body. Slowly she relaxed, her anger easing. With a clearer head, she reflected on what had transpired.
This would have been avoided if she hadn’t taken Emma’s advice and presented herself to Gabe in a state of undress. There were probably very few men who could happen upon a woman in a nightgown and walk away.
Embarrassment stomped out any remaining anger. How had she been foolish enough to go along with Emma’s plan? A chill, that had nothing to do with the open window, pebbled her skin to goosebumps.
The evening had ended dreadfully but one thing had become clear. Gabe didn’t love her. As hurtful as her words had been to utter, she would leave once she found a governess for Phoebe.
More pain resonated through her. In one short evening, not only did she lose Gabe, but Phoebe, too. Her fingers trembled as she closed the window, dimmed the lamp, and crawled into bed. Her heart might be broken but somehow she would get through this. Until then, she had to push through for Phoebe’s sake. The child had had enough upheaval in her life. She didn’t need Elizabeth’s distress adding to it.
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