A Gentleman's Bargain

by Patricia Waddell

  Claire shrugged her shoulders lightly. “I'm not sure they're worth the investment."

  Garrett didn't say anything for a long moment. His mind was busy with the image of Claire, kneeling on the summer grass next to the pond while she patiently undid a knot on a little girl's kite. Garrett wasn't sure why the image was still lingering in his mind, perhaps because it had seemed like such a natural one. Claire and a child. She'd be a good mother. She was patient and caring and kind of heart. The thought became more upsetting as Garrett realized he'd never thought about children before, except to consider them noisy little hellions and more inconvenient than necessary.

  “How are you and Grams getting along?” Garrett asked for lack of anything better to say.

  “I like your grandmother,” Claire told him as she reached out to drag her hands though the delicate willow leaves. “She's an extraordinary woman."

  “Yes, she is,” Garrett agreed.

  The evening breeze nipped at the curls arranged around Claire's delicate face and Garrett longed to reach out and touch them. He wanted to feel their silken texture against the palm of his hand. He wanted to kiss her again. And again. And again.

  Taking a gentle grip on her hand, Garrett began leading her toward the northern end of the park. Gradually the hum of voices vanished, leaving only the soft melody of the stringed instruments the musicians were playing. Once they were totally alone, shrouded in the dark shadows of tree branches and pale moonlight, he stopped and looked at her again.

  They stood and stared at each other for a second and Garrett let the need that had been building in his body all day take over. He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her toward him. Slowly, carefully so not to mess up the artful arrangement of curls that Libby had fashioned for the party, Garrett buried his hands in the thick mass of hair at the base of Claire's head, forcing her neck to arch back and her mouth to raise toward his.

  The kiss was one of searching intensity when it finally happened. Garrett pressed his mouth against hers and his tongue dipped inside, tasting. The fire in his body terrified him. He'd never wanted a woman the way he wanted Claire. The needing ripped at him, making him furious and disarming him at the same time. God forbid that he actually let some wild-eyed virgin get past his defenses, but Garrett knew the thought was too late.

  “You taste like moonlight and sunshine all at the same time,” he whispered against her lips. “Kiss me back, Claire. Taste me the same way I'm tasting you."

  Claire didn't need to be asked twice. Her mind was whirling and her body was on fire. There was no point in denying that she wanted the same thing Garrett wanted. Her arms encircled his neck and she let him pull her closer.

  Claire tried to think of what she'd say when Garrett stopped kissing her, but the strange quivering in the center of her body wouldn't allow the thought to take hold. Garrett's arms felt warm and strong around her. His mouth felt wonderful and she wondered if the wall he'd erected around his heart could be melted.

  When Garrett finally broke the kiss, Claire's eyes fluttered open. Moonlight splashed against the tree leaves and seeped into the shadows before it was gobbled up by the darkness.

  “I shouldn't kiss you again,” Garrett said as if he was arguing with himself. “But God help me, I can't stop."

  Claire stared up at him. Her arms remained around his neck and she could still taste his kiss. “I don't want you to stop,” she whispered, her voice shaky from the riot of emotions that had invaded her heart and body.

  Her words fueled the fire in Garrett and he pulled her close once again. This time the kiss wasn't gentle. It was hard and rough, as if he were desperate to get his fill of her so he could satisfy himself and walk away once and for all.

  One kiss turned into another and another, until Claire was leaning against Garrett's hard body for support. A hot flush raced through her body, ebbing and returning like endless waves of water rippling onto a beach. Garrett's mouth moved from her mouth to rain kisses over her face, her eyebrows, her nose, the curve of her jaw. His hands moved, as well. They traced the outline of her spine through the taffeta of her dress, stopping as they reached the small of her back, then pushing gently, bringing them so close there was nothing between them but clothing. She could hear his heart pounding, or was it hers?

  He raised his head and looked down at her. His mouth curved into a satisfied smile and Claire knew in that moment that she'd never be free of the feelings her heart harbored for this man. He kissed her again. It was a slow, gentle glide of his tongue but the passion returned just the same. She couldn't hold on to the rational thought that what they were doing would only make matters worse. She should insist they return to the party, but the words never came.

  One hand slid away from his shoulder and down to the front of his jacket. The hard plane of his chest felt warm and she wanted to touch more than the soft satin of his embroidered vest and the black velvet of his jacket lapels. She wanted to touch the man.

  A shiver ran through Garret and his face tightened with agony and ecstasy combined as Claire's eyes drifted closed. She liked touching him even in this chaste way and he triumphed in the knowledge that she was as lost in the moment and moonlight as he was. Suddenly Garrett's legs felt weak and he knew that if he didn't sit down, he'd end up falling onto the grass and taking Claire with him. Vaguely remembering a bench not too far way, he took her hand and started leading her further into the shadows.

  The bench was there and Garrett sank down on it. He pulled Claire onto his lap and sealed her protest with a hard kiss that gradually softened into one of pure pleasure. He moved her to make both of them more comfortable and to keep her bustle from digging into his thighs. The blissful feelings returned as his mouth moved and tasted.

  The heat of desire grew and grew as Claire surrendered to the magic of the moonlight and the temptation of Garrett's arms. When he was kissing her like this she could almost imagine that he cared for her—loved her.

  Garrett had to touch more than Claire's mouth. His hands moved to the narrow expanse of her waist, holding her on his lap while he enjoyed the pressure of her bottom pressed against the hard heat of his desire. His hands moved upward, over the narrow cage of her ribs until they stopped just below her breasts. He felt their gentle weight and wondered if her nipples were as pink as her pretty mouth. The tiny row of pearl buttons that held her dress together were no challenge to fingers that longed to touch her creamy skin.

  Claire felt the evening air, cool compared to the heat of Garrett's searching hands, and her mind told her mouth to form the words that would stop him. Nothing came out of her mouth but a soft sigh of surprised contentment when the taffeta fell away to reveal her silk chemise.

  Garrett's mouth became adventurous as he dropped kisses on her collarbone and the soft curve of her throat. His fingertips traced the delicate lace at the edge of her chemise and he wished she wasn't wearing a corset. He wanted to strip her naked to the waist. He wanted to see the moonlight gleaming on the warm globes of her young breasts. He wanted to pull her hard little nipples into his mouth and suckle like a hungry infant.

  His deft hands moved the straps of her chemise off her shoulders, exposing as much of her as he could without removing any more clothing. Her breasts swelled over the hard caging of her corset, beckoning him to kiss the skin that looked like ivory in the moonlight. Garrett's body responded to what he saw. His lips brushed lightly over the milky skin he'd exposed and his fingers eased carefully, cupping her breast before he lowered his head, tugged the silk out of the way with his teeth and kissed the velvet valley between her breasts.

  Claire sucked in a short breath. Garrett's mouth was as hot as fire. The sensation of the night air against her skin coupled with the moistness of kisses being planted across her upper chest made her body shiver with a newfound glory. She was a woman wanting a man, and for the first time in weeks, Claire wasn't embarrassed by the feelings of desire. She leaned back, wanting more. Garrett obliged her willingly. H
is arm supported her as she instinctively arched up to meet the demands of his hungry mouth.

  “God, I want to strip you naked and take you right here in the moonlight,” he said, his breath hot against her skin. “Your skin tastes like champagne and you smell like roses."

  Clouds drifted over the moon and Garrett became a shadow to Claire's eyes. She could feel his body vibrating with male emotions. What were they? Desire, of course, but she couldn't help but wonder if it was more. He was being extremely gentle with her and somehow she sensed that he wasn't a gentle lover with most women. The thought of Garrett doing to other women what he was doing to her had the effect of an arctic wind on Claire's flushed body.

  The music stopped and the melodious moment of passion descended into the cold reality of shame and embarrassment as Claire pushed Garrett away and surged to her feet. She kept her back to him as she tried to right her clothing.

  Garrett missed the resilient softness of Claire's body pressed against his. He was tempted to jerk her back into his arms and finish what he'd started, but he knew if he tried, she'd end up scratching his eyes out.

  Claire was fuming with anger. More at herself than at Garrett. She'd walked into the darkness with him, knowing what he had planned, and she'd surrendered to his charms without a word of protest. She had no one to blame for the humiliation but herself. Once her chemise straps were back in place, she fumbled with the buttons on the back of her dress.

  “Let me help,” Garrett said, moving up behind her. His hands pushed hers away and he fastened her dress as quickly and as expertly as he'd unbuttoned it moments before.

  The surety of his skill with female clothing inflamed Claire even more. She turned to look at him once the task was completed. “I won't be your mistress,” she said adamantly. “I won't let you seduce me, no matter how much I like your kisses."

  Garrett didn't smile even though he wanted to. He didn't need Claire to tell him that she liked his kisses. The way she'd melted in his arms had already told him that much. It had also told him that when the right moment came along, and it would come along, she'd burn in his arms like heaven's own fire. But for now, her voice was shaky with anger as well as passion, and Garrett knew better than to touch her. If he did, he'd end up pushing her away when what he really wanted was to draw her nearer to the flames of passion. Women with real passion were rare and Claire had real passion. Garrett had felt it in the soft shudders that had racked her body and he'd heard it in the female purr she'd made when he'd kissed her.

  “Would being my mistress be such a bad thing, Claire?"

  She didn't have to think about her answer. “Yes. Being any man's mistress means that I've lowered my worth as a person and a woman. I'll do what you hired me to do, but that's the only game I'll play,” she finished in a clipped voice.

  Garrett wanted to pull her into his arms and convince her otherwise, but he knew if he touched her, she'd scratch his eyes out. Her chin had taken on a stubborn angle and her voice was laced with restrained anger. He could also sense her embarrassment. He'd touched her in a way no other man had touched her and Claire didn't like being reminded of it. His voice was soft but confident as he replied to her remark. “I haven't played games since I was a boy, Claire. I liked kissing you and you liked kissing me."

  Silence was the only reply he got. Claire busied herself with straightening out the folds of her dancing dress. Her hands were still trembling but the reaction was mild compared to the raging emotions that had taken over her body. She was angry, embarrassed, and in spite of herself, she wanted Garrett's arms around her again. The passion she'd just experienced was still playing havoc with her body.

  Garrett's smile was bittersweet as he offered her his arm. “I won't apologize for what happened between us, Claire. I'm more man than gentleman, and you're more woman than lady. One day you'll admit that and when you do, we'll set the world on fire."

  His words were as insulting as his intentions. Claire looked at him, loving and hating him at the same time. “The only fire I want to build is one under Mr. Wilson. The sooner he finds my brother, the sooner I can leave your insults and your employment behind."

  Her temper amused him and Garrett chuckled lightly. “One thing at a time, Miss Aldrich. For now, we'd better join the party."

  In spite of her stiffness, Garrett took Claire's hand and placed it on his arm. The moon had reappeared and he could see the angry line of her mouth. He could also see the soft curves he'd caressed a few minutes earlier. “Appearances are very important,” he said in a mocking tone. “Now put a smile on that lovely face. I don't want anyone thinking that we've had a lovers’ quarrel."

  “The last thing I'll ever be is your lover,” Claire told him in no-uncertain terms. “At the moment, I don't even like you."

  “You liked me enough a few moments ago,” Garrett reminded her. Common sense told him to drop the subject, but his pride wouldn't let him. Claire had been pure sunshine in his arms, warm and vibrant and alive. He'd come too far in his pursuit of her to let her get away now. Time was on his side and he intended to use it to his advantage.

  Claire tried to pull away and walk ahead but Garrett wouldn't let her. She measured her words as she looked up at him. He was right, but she couldn't admit it. If she let him think that she'd surrender unconditionally the next time he kissed her, she might as well cut out her heart and give it to him on a silver platter. “You're very good at seduction, Mr. Monroe. But then, you've had a lot of practice.” Claire paused long enough for the insinuation to sink in. “I won't be one of your women. I came to San Francisco to find my brother and start a new life, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

  The sound of a woman's light laughter prevented Garrett from remarking on Claire's future intentions. He looked away from her determined face to see Christopher Landauer and Belinda Belton moving toward them. Henry Belton's daughter was gazing up at Garrett's partner as if Christopher had set the silver moon in the sky above her.

  Claire used the opportunity to move away from him. They were hidden in the shadow of a large tree and when Claire stepped out into the moonlight she didn't notice a tree root sticking up out of the ground. Her foot caught on the snarled root and she almost tumbled onto her face. Garrett's strong arms kept her from falling, but her ankle twisted to the right and she couldn't bite back the sound of pain.

  “Oh, my,” Belinda said, leaving Christopher's side and rushing forward. “Are you all right, Claire?"

  “She's twisted her ankle,” Garrett answered as he scooped Claire up in his arms. The bench wasn't far away and he carried her to it.

  “I'm fine,” Claire said, although she knew she wasn't. If she hadn't been in such a hurry to walk away from Garrett, she would have been more careful. Her ankle was starting to hurt and she felt embarrassed all over again.

  Garrett didn't argue with her. He sat her down on the bench, kneeled in the grass at her feet, and pushed up the hem of her dress.

  Claire pushed it back down. “Stop that,” she hissed, as Christopher and Belinda joined them.

  Garrett's expression said he'd seen a lot more of her than her ankle. His hand found the hem of her dress again and he lifted it up several inches. “Hold out your foot."

  “Do you want me to get Dr. Baldwin?” Christopher asked. “He's around here somewhere."

  “Yes,” Garrett said as his fingers gently probed Claire's exposed foot and ankle. “Tell him I'm taking Claire home and I'd like him to stop by and see her."

  “It's only a sprain,” Claire protested as Garrett began removing her shoe. He was as good with laces as he was with buttons and her shoe was set aside in no time.

  “Wiggle your toes,” Garrett said as Christopher excused himself to find the physician.

  Belinda stayed behind to offer what comfort she could as Claire moved her toes, then grimaced. “Oh, I'm so sorry,” the banker's daughter said, sitting down beside her new friend. “You won't be able to enjoy the dance."

  Claire wanted to say th
at she was almost glad for the excuse to get away from Garrett, but she held her tongue. Garrett was cupping her foot in his hand and she could feel the heat of his touch all the way up her leg. When she tried to pull her foot away, he tightened his grip, but he didn't cause her any pain. His fingers moved over her ankle one more time, before he looked up at her.

  “I'm taking you home,” he stated, then tucked her shoe in the pocket of his jacket and came to his feet. Claire came off the bench the same way she had gotten on it. Garrett picked her up in his arms. “Hold on to me,” he said as he started walking toward the gazebo.

  Not having any choice, Claire put her arms around his neck. She liked the steely strength of his body and the way he was holding her. She liked it so much, she was determined not to show it. Her body went rigid and Garrett stopped walking.

  “Relax,” he whispered. “I'm not going to ravish you with Belinda Belton standing right behind us."

  Claire forced herself to relax. She looked over Garrett's shoulder. Belinda was following them with a concerned look on her face.

  Dr. Baldwin and Christopher met up with them by the time Garrett had reached the gravel path where the buggy was waiting.

  “My bag is in my buggy,” Dr. Baldwin said. “I'll follow you home."

  “Thank you,” Garrett told him as he deposited Claire on the leather seat. He turned to Christopher and Belinda. “Sorry to cut the evening short."

  “Don't apologize,” Christopher said. He stepped back and put his arm around Belinda, drawing her close. “We'll come by tomorrow and see how Claire's feeling."

  Garrett walked around the buggy and got in. He untied the reins, flicked his wrist, and sent the chestnut gelding pulling the buggy into a brisk trot. Claire waved good-bye to Belinda. Dr. Baldwin was behind them as Garrett guided the buggy out of the park and onto Harrison Street.

  “I'll have you home in a few minutes,” he said. “Are you in a lot of pain?"

  “No,” Claire told him. She clenched her jaw against the lie and tried to concentrate on the scenery instead of the handsome man sitting beside her.