Garrett held up his hands. “Point taken. I understand.”
“Do you? Do you really?” Brandon’s eyes were once again hard and leveled on him. “I’d hate to think you forgot why you are here. If so, forgive me for reminding you of those pesky facts. Someone wants you dead. Has made two attempts on your life. You’d be wise to remember that.” He turned to go, speaking over his shoulder. “You need to go downstairs. Your sister is worried about you. God knows why when you can’t be bothered to do the same.”
The door opened and slammed closed with a finality that shamed Garrett. He sagged back against his bureau and blew out a breath. Christ.
The morning had started off so well. He didn’t know how it had spiraled south so quickly. He had managed to anger both his sister and Brandon, and Alexandra was none too pleased with him, either. He might not have reviewed Hammond’s damn list yet, but he did have a plan. And he knew damn well why he was here. A man didn’t forget that he was a walking target. Christ. He cursed the fact that he had forsaken drink because he was in dire need of a shot. Hell, forget the shot, he could swallow the whole decanter. He raked his hands through his hair and swore. It was going to be a hell of a long day.
Chapter Nineteen
ALEX waited for Jemma, the lady’s maid assisting her, to finish buttoning the back of her light green day dress. She straightened her bodice as she reviewed her plans for the day. After this morning, she had concluded that she needed to revise her strategies for dealing with Garrett.
The morning had taught her that she could not let Garrett touch her. Once the man got a hold of her, she was no longer the practical, intelligent woman she considered herself to be. In his arms, she became someone altogether different. Cheeks burning, she gritted her teeth and ignored the voice inside her head hissing about wanton hussies. There would be no more name-calling.
Garrett was a charming and attractive man. Her reactions to him were no different than any other woman’s would be when confronted with the full power of his seduction.
Admittedly, she had not reacted to any other dashing rake in the same manner. But no man was as handsome as Garrett, nor were they as brave…and they didn’t touch her like…She closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her forehead. She had lost her point. What was it? Touching. It was about how there would be no more of it. Theirs was a business arrangement. Nothing more could ever come of it, so embarking on these illicit detours was dangerous and decadent and…Well, they needed to stop. She opened her eyes and relaxed, feeling more in charge of herself.
Alex’s mind was made up, her new course of action laid before her, and there was nothing left to do but test the waters. She couldn’t wade in too deep now that Lord Warren and Garrett’s sister had arrived. Frowning, she followed Jemma to the door, unable to explain the sudden heaviness dragging her steps.
She was fiddling with the lace on her cuffs when she exited her room. She did not see Garrett coming down the hall, so gasped when he caught her arms to prevent her from barreling straight into him. Staggering, she slapped at his hands while backing away.
His eyes did not meet hers, but rather dipped to her mouth and slowly lowered to drift over her body. A ball of heat exploded deep in her belly. Images of their hot, sultry kisses, his hand cupping her breast, and his fingers working their magic assaulted her. She lifted her hand to cover her pounding heart.
Maybe he should neither touch nor even look at her.
Or at least look at her like that. Like if given a spoon, he would dig in and then lick her clean.
“Good morning, oh, wait, it’s afternoon. Good afternoon.” He grinned. “It looks like we are heading in the same direction. After you.” Bowing low, he held out his hand for her to precede him. When she did not move, he raised a brow. “Or we could remain here until you are ready or our hunger gets the better of us, for we did miss breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving—”
“Don’t!” She came alive at his words. “Don’t you dare start on hunger and appetites and all that.”
He laughed. “Fair enough.”
She gave him a wary glance, but when he did not speak again, she continued down the hall, aware of him falling into step beside her. As they walked, she cast suspicious glances his way. For one who never resisted a retort, Garrett was quiet. Too quiet. And behaving himself.
He looked good. He was wearing a dark gray morning suit, his cravat neatly tied, his jacket fitting over his shoulders like a second skin, his trousers snug over muscular thighs. She yanked her eyes from him, nearly tripping on the first step.
His arm slid her around her waist, catching her before she tumbled headfirst down the stairs. “Whoa, there. Are you all right?”
Cheeks flaming, she shoved his arm from her and muttered under her breath. “I will be if you’d keep your hands to yourself.”
His lips twitched. “My apologies. I didn’t know you preferred to go down the stairs headfirst, but next time you start to do so, I promise not to intercede.”
“You know exactly what I mean. Please keep your hands to yourself.” She whirled around and stomped down the stairs, the low rumble of his laughter carrying to her.
That was more like him.
She refused to give him another thought. She needed to focus her attention on meeting his sister, the docile mouse.
She plastered a smile on her face and entered the front parlor, braced to meet the Lord and Lady Warren. When she stepped into the room, it was empty. Puzzled, she turned to Garrett.
He surveyed the room as well, a frown on his lips.
“I thought Havers said Lord Warren and your sister had arrived.”
“He did and they are here. Just not at the moment.” He shrugged. “You should know, Brandon has explained to my sister what you overheard at Hammond’s and why you are here. Kit admires your courage in coming forward and for providing me with whatever assistance you can.”
Alex had wondered how he had explained her presence to his sister. It didn’t alleviate her nerves, but she was grateful Garrett had said something. One could get ideas. She gnawed on her bottom lip, worrying over those ideas and how perilously close they were to being true.
Garrett’s expression turned pensive.
“You have a lot of rules this morning. No talking about appetites or hunger. No touching.” He tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. “I want to make sure I get them all straight. I don’t want to upset you in front of Warren or my sister.”
She frowned, not knowing where he was heading with this.
He studied her in his usual quiet, drive-her-mad manner of his. That irritating trait now topped her lists of his faults.
“What about food? Can I mention food?”
“Of course.”
“That’s good because you know how I love apples and small, ripe peaches and—”
“Stop!” She gasped. She advanced on him. “No apples, and certainly not peaches.”
He laughed. “Since you didn’t mention kissing, I assume that’s permitted?”
Before she realized his intent, he slid his arms around her waist and yanked her to him. “That’s touching! That’s against the rules.” She pushed ineffectively at his chest.
He smiled, a slow, sultry smile as he lowered his face to hers. “You’re right. But, my dear Alex, you should know by now, I’ve never been one for rules. Never liked them. Broke them all.” His mouth captured hers in a deeply thorough kiss. Taking, teasing, and torturing her as the familiar flash of desire ignited within her.
She groaned against his lips, struggling to draw breath as his arms crushed her close and his kiss damn near devoured her.
Her lips opened under his and she sighed.
“I knew I should have come earlier! I just knew it. I’m too late, aren’t I?”
Alex’s eyes shot open and she wrenched free from Garrett. Mortified, she braced herself to face Garrett’s sister, wondering how she could have forgotten her. That wasn’t completely true, for Garrett’s
kiss made her forget everything, including to say no.
She squared her shoulders and plastered a smile on her face, hoping to salvage a remnant of her shredded reputation. But when she turned and her gaze landed on the woman framed in the doorway, the blood drained from her head. It wasn’t his sister. It was worse. Much, much worse.
It was the portrait of Garrett’s mistress come to life.
Kristen.
She was beautiful. Thick auburn hair framed a porcelain face, with full lips pressed into a disapproving frown and golden catlike eyes blazing at Garrett.
How could she have forgotten Garrett’s mistress?
It was as if her body had turned to stone, her humiliation so complete it had immobilized her. Her eyes dropped to the woman’s stomach, her very pregnant, bulging stomach, and the last drop of blood left her head.
Before she could recover from this added shock, Kristen spoke.
“Decadence appears to agree with you.” She eyed Garrett. “You may be an incorrigible rake, but it is good to see you looking so damn well.” Her voice broke on her last words and she stepped forward to fling herself into Garrett’s arms.
“You’re a bit high in the instep and a meddlesome do-gooder, but I’m glad you’ve come.” Garrett buried his face in Kristen’s hair and lowered his voice. “I’m fine. You need to stop worrying about me.”
“It’s a lifetime habit, curse of loving you,” Kristen murmured, accepting a handkerchief from Garrett as she drew away and dabbed at her eyes.
Like a sledgehammer, Kristen’s words shattered Alex’s immobility. The woman loved him.
Garrett had told her that. Kristen was everything to him, while she was what? A country distraction? Dessert before the main banquet? She satisfied a lustful craving, while Kristen satisfied…she refused to think of what he received from Kristen.
She whirled on Garrett, fisting her hands at her sides. The man had survived two attacks on his life. But this time, this time he would die.
And she would not weep for him, she vowed as she furiously blinked back her tears. “You are despicable. How could you?” she hissed.
Surprised, Kristen turned to her and raised a brow. “You are quite right, my dear. Let us not be distracted.” She also whirled on Garrett, planted her hands on her no-longer-slim hips, and glowered at him. “What were you and Brandon thinking with this idiotic plan? Dragging this young woman out here all alone and with no chaperones?”
“There wasn’t time,” Garrett protested. “I needed to leave town, to relocate to a safe place to strategize an offensive plan.” He turned to Alex and, seeing her expression matched Kristen’s, his hands shot up before him. “Wait, it’s not what you think. We’re not what you think.”
“Do you take me for a fool? She’s having a baby! Your baby!”
“What?” Kristen gasped, stumbling back from Garrett.
“No, she’s not!” Garrett protested. “We’re not. You don’t understand.”
“I understand that!”
“No. This is my sister! My sister!”
“And I am most certainly not having my brother’s baby!” Kristen pressed a hand to her forehead and gave her head a firm shake. “Dear Lord, please tell me those words did not leave my mouth.”
“More important, promise me they won’t leave this room,” Garrett muttered. “Kit, this is Alexandra Daniels. Alexandra, this is my sister and Brandon’s wife, Lady Kristen Warren.”
Stunned, it took Alex a moment to recover. Kristen…Kit. Of course. She was an idiot, and Garrett was a deceitful ass. She gave him a fulminating look. She’d refrain from killing him over his clever lack of clarification, but he should suffer. He had made her think she was a damn dessert. Worse, he had let her believe he had a mistress. Made her think that every kiss they had shared was a betrayal of another woman. Made her think she couldn’t have him. Not that she wanted him or could ever have him, of course. But…well, he deserved to suffer. She had.
“Please, forgive my misunderstanding. I saw a portrait of you in Garrett’s London residence, but I don’t know why I presumed—”
“Oh, I have an idea,” Kristen drawled, her eyes narrowing on Garrett. She squeezed Alex’s hand reassuringly and smiled. “In my condition, I’m flattered.” She lifted a hand to pat her hair. “Of course, I would make an excellent courtesan, but I draw the line at having my brother as my benefactor.”
“Ah, those words remain here as well,” Garrett said, blanching.
“I would have to agree with that.”
The words came from behind Alex and she spun to see Brandon standing in the door, a cherubic, fair-haired toddler in his arms. He blinked at Alex with Brandon’s green eyes, plugged his mouth with his thumb, and buried his face in his father’s shoulder. “The portrait you saw was in my house,” Brandon explained. “I had it commissioned of my wife, Kit.” Brandon turned to Garrett. “Sorry, I had trouble collecting the reinforcements. Fear I lost one. But you look none too bruised and battered.”
“Yet,” Alex hissed under her breath. To her mortification, Kristen heard her and gave her an all-too-familiar, slow appraisal. Clearly that look was a family trait.
“I think we shall get along very well indeed,” Kit said, beaming.
“This is not good,” Garrett muttered to Brandon.
Kit raised an imperious brow. “My dear brother, women are not horses. We do not like to be led or misled, as the case may be. You’d be wise to remember that.”
Alex blinked at Kit. Garrett might be a deceiving, good-for-nothing ass, but she liked his sister. The mouse had claws and roared. She watched Garrett glower at his sister, who smiled sweetly back at him.
“Mama!”
Kit turned to the little boy squirming in Brandon’s arms. She crossed to him and stretched up on tiptoes to kiss his plump cheek. “You’d be wise to remember that as well, little one.” She faced Alex as she made the introductions. “This angel is William. His older brother is the one we have lost. He’s the little devil of our family. He takes after his uncle.”
“Very funny,” Garrett said.
“He was right behind me when I headed up to the house.” Brandon frowned.
“And Gus said he had behaved himself. I should have guessed it wouldn’t last.”
“Gus?” Alex perked up at the name, turning to stare at Garrett in surprise.
“I did hire him to manage the stables, remember?” Garrett cocked a brow at her.
She did remember, but it never occurred to her that Gus would be working at the same manor as them. Would be reunited with her. Damn Garrett. It was hard to hold on to her anger when he continued to do things like this.
“He traveled with us,” Brandon said. “You’ll have to go and say hello. And perhaps locate our eldest son. He’s about so high”—he held his hand to waist level—“and usually knee-deep in trouble.”
“I’m right here,” an amused voice piped up from the door.
A young boy of about six or seven years stood just inside the room. His hands were folded around his waist, his ink black hair windblown and in dark contrast to his bright pink cheeks.
“So you are. Where have you been?” Brandon’s eyes narrowed.
“Leave off, Bran, he looks fine.” Garrett bent to give the boy a hug but was stopped by a firm hand thrust out to him. Grinning, Garrett clutched it in his and shook it firmly, bending into a shallow bow. “Aren’t you mature.”
“I’m almost seven. You can hug Will, but don’t shake his hand. You’d get slobber from his thumb all over you.”
Brandon’s raised a brow. “Yes, Beau, but…”
“Papa, it’s not Beau, it’s Nelson. I’ve told you again and again.” Impatience flashed in his eyes. “I’ve changed my name to Nelson,” he explained to Garrett. “Poole told me I got saddled with Beauregard because it was the first Earl of Warren and every other Warren is stuck with the name. But I don’t like it, so I’ve tossed it over for Nelson. It’s a dapper name, and Admiral Nelson trounced the Fr
ench.”
“Apt choice, Nelson,” Garrett said, clearly fighting to keep his expression somber.
Alex lifted her hand to suppress her smile. The boy was charming. She feared he did take after his uncle.
“Beau…I mean, Nelson,” Brandon corrected himself after a disgruntled look from his son. “About your jacket—”
“My jacket?” Beau opened his eyes wide, giving them a look of guileless innocence.
“Yes. It is moving.”
Beau waved a hand dismissively. “That’s my stomach. Hunger pains and all that. Perhaps I should change for dinner? I’m ravenous.” He started to back out of the room.
“One moment, Nelson. Your stomach appears to be sprouting a tail.” Kit’s amused gaze dropped to his waist where the furry appendage protruded.
Beau flushed and shoved the tail underneath his jacket hem just as a paw slipped up between the lapels of his coat.
“Beau, rather, Nelson, I told you to leave the kittens in the stables with their mother. They are too young to be weaned yet,” Brandon said, setting Will on his feet when he squirmed for release.
“He didn’t want to stay with his mother. He followed me. He was crying when I put him down.”
“Will cries to follow you sometimes, but then he wants his mother,” Brandon explained. “Like Will, this kitten is not ready to be separated yet.”
“Why don’t I help Nelson return the kitten to his mother,” Alex offered. “I know you two would like to catch up with Garrett, and I would like a chance to greet Gus.”
Garrett knelt beside Beau to help Will pet the kitten. “Nelson, this is Miss Daniels, and she is a friend of mine and Gus’s. Why don’t you show her where the kitten’s mother is? She likes kittens, too,” Garrett explained, making the introductions.
For the Love of a Soldier Page 20
