by Dawn Brower
She should be insulted. But she wasn’t fooled at all. Her lips tilted upward. “Admit it,” she said sweetly. “You’re jealous.”
He practically glowed with it. The duke wanted to know who she was plucking the flower for. How would he feel if he realized it had all been for him?
“Not at all,” he deflected. “I’m rather curious though. Why not add a few ‘He loves me nots’ into your game? I never once heard you mutter that particular phrase as you desecrated the bloom.”
Heat filled her cheeks once again. He had overheard her. Well, she could avert an answer as well as he could. At least she could do it more convincingly than he did. “I have never been one to leave things to chance,” she said flippantly. “Why go through the motions only to lose in the end. Throwing away the nots means I win no matter what.” Serenity licked her lips. “And I do so love winning.”
“That’s an interesting take on a girlish game,” he said hoarsely.
Serenity slid her tongue across her lips once again. His gaze followed the path her tongue took and he almost appeared—hungry. Oh, he liked that… “There’s nothing girlish about me, Your Grace.”
He swallowed. “On that score, you and I agree.” The duke thrust the flower in her direction. “By all means, finish the flower off and put it out of its misery.” Once he was gone she’d do exactly as he suggested, but perhaps this time she’d change the phrase a bit. Serenity took the flower from him and held it firmly in her grasp.
With those last words, he spun on his heels and left her alone in the garden. That had been an interesting bit of conversation. When they next spoke, she’d have to poke him a little more to see what she garnered.
She plucked a petal and tossed it over her shoulder. “Is he mine?” Another petal plucked. “We will be together soon.” The last petal flew over her shoulder. “A promise made is a promise kept.”
Serenity never went back on a promise once made. She made one to herself and silently to Brandon. Her duke would find out that loving her was the best thing that happened to him. She played the long game, and she intended to win.
Chapter 2
Brandon stormed into his study and headed toward the brandy. He grabbed a glass, filled it to the top, and then drained the contents. The liquid burned as it traveled down his throat. His eyes stung and watered. He’d never swallowed so much in one gulp and had nearly choked from the effort.
Serenity Drake was driving him mad.
She’d been living with him under the guise of being his son’s governess. Not that she didn’t spend time with Sebastian… If Serenity did one thing, it was keep her word. Each morning, she would work with his son on subject matters that would enrich his world. She told him stories and tracked down appropriate books for a boy his age to teach him how to read. Thus far, she’d actually been the best governess he’d ever had.
He’d never admit it to her, but she worked better with Sebastian than Eve did. His son had taken to Serenity in ways he’d never have thought possible and he’d become riveted with all things Serenity Drake, and if Brandon were to be honest with himself, so was he. Her vivaciousness bled from her and soaked through those around her until they had no choice but to respond. His son had needed someone like her. Genevieve had been good with him, but she’d always carried a bit of sadness inside of her. Serenity didn’t have that affliction and it showed. Working with Sebastian, she gave him the opportunity to learn and to play. Brandon couldn’t find fault with anything she did with his son—even when he had desperately wanted to.
Brandon couldn’t say the same where he was concerned. She made it a point to push the limits of their relationship whenever she could. He’d tried to avoid her as much as possible, but Serenity wouldn’t allow that. She flitted through his life and made him question every aspect of his life. A temptress he no longer wanted to resist and burned to claim. Giving in went against everything that was ingrained inside of him. He would not topple over easily or willingly. When he gave in to his desire for her it would decimate his iron will. Brandon had worked hard to build that strength. His reluctance to release it stemmed from his desire to keep that part of him whole. Being with Serenity… He wasn’t sure he could be the spymaster England needed if he claimed her in the way he wished to.
He’d offered to marry Genevieve because he hadn’t had any feelings for her. It would have been easier for him to leave her and be the spymaster England needed. She would have made a good mother for Sebastian, and he had trusted her. Serenity made him feel things he didn’t want to, and it was becoming harder and harder for him to ignore them.
“I thought I’d find you in here.”
Brandon closed his eyes as Serenity’s voice washed over him. Bloody hell… Would he ever escape her? She was everywhere.
Who was he kidding? Even on the days she didn’t appear before him she wasn’t far away from him. She invaded his thoughts on a daily basis. Truth be told, he didn’t really want her gone. If she ever left, he’d hunt the world for her even if that took him to a time that scared him to death. The stories he heard about the twenty-first century were mind boggling. He couldn’t imagine the idea of automobiles, planes, or electricity. Although he rather liked the idea of lights instead of candles…
He stared down at the empty glass in his hand and contemplated refilling it. If he had to deal with Serenity, he’d require the fortification. Without giving it a second thought, he grabbed the decanter of brandy and filled his glass again. He turned toward Serenity and sipped the amber liquid.
“Your investigative skills are simply amazing,” he drawled. “Perhaps I should hire you as one of England’s spymasters.”
“You couldn’t afford me,” she deadpanned. “Though I admit you’d be a fool to let me go. I may not be able to blend into any surrounding, but I could uncover information better than anyone you could recruit.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Too bad I already have a job, and you won’t be the beneficiary of my special skills.”
Brandon swallowed another large gulp of brandy. Her statement held an ounce of truth; after all, her gift made her a walking, talking lie detector. She’d be a gem to have in an interrogation room. He wasn’t about to admit that to her though. Serenity had enough self confidence to level a room if she chose to. She didn’t need him to reinforce her belief in herself.
“Perhaps I have something of more value to entice you with,” he replied.
Serenity licked her lips. With one swipe of her tongue he instantly hardened. She seemed to play games with him as often one would draw a breath. He was convinced she was aware of exactly how she affected him. He hadn’t quite figured out what her end goal was though. She might be able to read him, but he couldn’t claim the same concerning her.
“I might be willing to listen to your offer.” Serenity stepped closer and lifted the glass from his hand, taking a sip. “Nice,” she said giving it back to him. “Perhaps I’ll pour myself a glass since you didn’t offer.”
She sashayed past him allowing her skirts to brush his leg. He clenched the glass tightly in his hand and prayed for patience. As much as he wanted to, he was not going to lift her and have his way with her on his desk. Although, the more he let himself imagine it, the better it sounded. Why wasn’t it a good idea? For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a single reason why he should abstain.
Serenity brushed past him with her own glass of brandy in hand. Any other lady of his acquaintance would be scandalized at her freely drinking strong spirits. Brandy was a man’s drink. A lady could have sherry or wine, but anything else was out of the question.
“Now, where were we?” she said. “Oh, yes.” Serenity snapped her fingers. “An offer I can’t refuse.”
Hell. What had he managed to entangle himself in this time? He’d have to find something to give her or she’d bury him with his good intentions. When he’d made that statement, he’d been well in the throes of growing lust. He almost snorted at that imagery. His desire for her was always there. The only
thing growing was his cock. One glance from her and he was ready and willing.
“There is no offer,” he replied. “I’m going away for a few days. Something has been brought to my attention, and I have to investigate.”
“Oh?” She raised a brow. “Has Napoleon escaped St. Helena?”
Brandon froze and asked as evenly as possible. “What do you know?” Could that evil bastard have actually escaped? Why hadn’t she said so? He could have prevented it… With her knowledge, she could stop a great many things. He couldn’t fathom why she didn’t.
“About Napoleon? A lot actually—even the date of his death. Maybe one day I’ll tell you.” Serenity laughed. “It doesn’t take much to get a rise out of you. One mention of the former emperor, and I have your full attention. I should do so more often and maybe I’d keep you focused on me.”
He wanted to shake her. Napoleon wasn’t anything to joke about. Didn’t she realize the havoc that man had brought? He alone was capable of erupting chaos on the world. His maniacal plans could destroy lives. “You don’t need to mention Napoleon to accomplish that goal.” He gritted his teeth. She’d been toying with him as usual. Nothing was happening with Napoleon—though he would perhaps find a way to make her spill the date of his death. That information might ease his concern a bit.
“Ah,” she said. “He finally admits it.”
Damn. What had she pushed him to? “It’s hardly news,” Brandon said dryly. “You act as if the world revolves around you. Far be it from me to deny you that reality.”
A soft chuckle filled the room. “I’ll let that pass.” A grin filled her face. “You’re deflecting. It’s what you do best after all. I won’t remind you that you can’t hide from me.”
“I believe you just did.”
How could he forget for even a moment that she could see past every layer he’d carefully crafted? He wanted to, but she constantly ripped away the veneer he’d tried to hold on to. It was aggravating in ways he couldn’t fully describe.
“You’re right,” she said. “I apologize for my lack of discretion. I’m afraid I was never very good at pretending.” She drained the contents of her glass and set it on his desk.
Why did she have to be so lovely? If she was hideous perhaps he could dismiss her easily. No, even if she was scarred and plump, something about her would draw him in. She was irresistible. Brandon scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “I don’t have time for this.” He drained the contents of his glass and set it on his desk. “I’m going to tell my valet to pack my trunk. I have to travel to Manchester to investigate the ruckus growing in the area.”
Serenity reached out, placing her hand on his chest. “What’s in Manchester?”
Something in her face stopped him short. All color had drained from her face, and it was almost devoid of emotion. “What is it?” he asked.
She didn’t have precognitive skills. That was her sister’s gift. Something he’d said sparked an idea or a memory in her. He had to find out what she knew. It might be useful to his investigation. She didn’t enlighten him though and only stared up at him expectantly. Apparently, she was capable of staying quiet if she had a reason to.
“There is a movement for voting rights being extended to the working men,” he said reluctantly. “A couple men have stirred them up, and there are rumors they’re going to gather together in one place.”
“Henry Hunt and William Cobbett,” she said.
“Yes,” he said surprised. He shouldn’t have been though. “What do you know about them?”
She shook her head. “You can’t go.”
Like hell he couldn’t. It was his job to investigate any matters that might affect the government. This thing had the possibility of evolving into a large-scale problem. The two men had the working class riled. Even some women were joining the cause and demanding the right to vote. As if that would happen…
“Maybe if you explained why I might be willing to heed your advice,” he said encouragingly. He had no intention of staying behind. “Are you going to share your information with me?”
“I can’t,” she said. “What happens has to happen. It’s part of history.”
That didn’t sound good… “What’s the point of time traveling if you can’t change things every now and then?”
Serenity laughed, but it wasn’t a good one. It sounded hollow. “You must realize how ridiculous that sounds. I’m not here because I have some lofty goals of changing history. I don’t have a horse in this particular race.”
He frowned. What were her goals then? Other than being Sebastian’s governess, he’d not bothered to ask her what she wanted. He’d been to afraid to ask, and he wasn’t sure he was brave enough to do so yet. “Well,” he replied. “Then I see no reason to remain at Branterberry.” With those words, he spun on his heels and headed toward the exit.
“Wait,” she called out.
Brandon stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Are you prepared to give me what I want?” Perhaps not the best choice of words, but he rather liked how they had come out. She could take them however way she wished. In the end, he would be the one making the calls. Serenity needed a firm hand, and if she planned on remaining in his time, she would have to start making some concessions. Ladies did not rule anything. Maybe if he told himself that often enough he’d believe it too.
She licked her lips and smiled wantonly. “Indeed.”
That one word sparked a fire in his belly and traveled south. His cock hardened even further to the point of pain. The trip to Manchester might be exactly what he needed. If he was smart, he’d leave her in the study and not look back. If he stayed, he might not leave the room for several hours. The dutiful side of him urged him to move forward, but the roguish side of him demanded he take what she clearly offered. He turned around and stepped toward her. It was automatic and he hadn’t fully realized what he’d done until he stood before her.
“I’m glad you’re staying,” she said.
“I never agreed to anything of the kind,” he replied. “I’m waiting for you to deliver on your promise.”
Serenity closed the distance between them. She brought her hands upward and she caressed his chest. He sucked in a breath and steeled himself for the onslaught of torture. This was a familiar dance. She pushed, he returned the favor, and then he left unsatisfied. He wanted to kiss her but never allowed himself the pleasure. A kiss would be an agreement of sorts, and he wasn’t prepared to enter that particular contract yet.
She had other ideas though. Serenity wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to place her lips on his. They were soft and warm. Brandon hadn’t been prepared for her to take the initiative. Now that she had, he was lost and there was no way of returning. He pulled her into his embrace and took over the kiss. Immediately, he became enraptured in the pleasure of all that was Serenity.
He pushed her lips open with his tongue and tasted her the way he’d been dreaming of. It was a mixture of cinnamon and brandy. Hot and enticing all at once and more decadent than the most succulent desserts. How had he resisted her this long? He could have been kissing her every day for months. The more he tasted, he realized one important thing: he was a bloody fool…
Chapter 3
His kiss seared through her. Serenity had never doubted it would, but the reality was entirely different than her imagination. When she’d initiated this, she hadn’t imagined she’d be so swept away. Now she couldn’t stop the onslaught of passion even if she wanted to. It served a dual purpose anyway. As long as he was in his study at Branterberry kissing her, he couldn’t be on the road traveling toward Manchester.
The duke pulled back and stared down at her. His breathing was ragged and his expression appeared contemplative. Why had he stopped? If she’d been in his place, she wouldn’t have had the strength to do so. She had to shake off the fuzziness filling her brain and concentrate on him. Something wasn’t right, and she wouldn’t be able to determine what until she read his aura. That kiss
had been consuming for both of them.
Serenity blinked several times and pulled herself together. Branterberry swirled with every possible emotion. His aura was a veritable rainbow of color and uncertainty. That was the only time someone didn’t glow a specific color. They had yet to make a decision on what to do. Her duke was confused as hell. Perhaps she should help him topple over in the direction she wished him to go.
“Stay with me,” she said coaxingly.
He shook his head and stepped back. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “It’s my duty…”
“The hell with duty,” Serenity snapped. “There are more important things than solving the country’s problems.”
He laughed derisively. “Like tupping you on my desk?”
She wouldn’t have put it that way exactly. Serenity lifted her chin defiantly. “Sex is a celebration of life. Tell me something, Your Grace,” she goaded him. “When did you give up on your own happiness? Did you ever know that feeling?” He’d been willing to marry her sister without the benefit of love. What else would he do to avoid feeling something more than duty for a person?
There was so much about him she didn’t know or understand. She wanted to though. If he’d allow her inside his head for a little while, maybe she could figure him out. Every day he was swirled with secrecy and lies. He held everything inside of him and didn’t allow anyone past that barrier he built. Whether it was to protect himself or another, she wasn’t sure. Either way, he had to let someone in or he’d destroy himself from the inside out. Beneath that exterior was an edge of grief that held him back from truly living. Perhaps it was his wife’s death, or maybe it was something else entirely. One way or the other, she’d uncover the information and free his soul from the endless torment.
