by Jo Beverley
“I love you, too, Mother.”
Elizabeth glanced at the painting. “But what are we going to do about that?” She shook her head. “Alexander is going to be fit to be tied when he sees it. I don’t know what he will do to Lord Langdon.”
Charlotte cringed. She had not considered that prospect.
Her mother gave her hand a squeeze. “Did you really pose for this? She didn’t simply paint your face on someone else’s body?”
“No, it’s all me,” she admitted. “I posed every day for over two weeks.” And they were the happiest two weeks of her life.
“With Lord Langdon as well?”
“Yes.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I never would have expected behavior like this from you. You’ve always been so steady and responsible and this painting is so out of character for you. Wasn’t posing like that”—her mother actually blushed—“rather … awkward?”
“That was the most remarkable part,” Charlotte explained as she recalled those early morning sessions in the studio, being held securely in Gavin’s arms. “It was not the least bit awkward posing with Gavin.”
“Is that when you fell in love with each other?”
Charlotte remained quiet.
“It was obvious to everyone at the table last night that something happened between the two of you,” Elizabeth said gently. “You’re in love with him.”
“I don’t think I admitted it to myself at the time, because I was too afraid, but yes, I fell in love with him.”
“I never suspected something like this happened to you in Spain,” Elizabeth said in disbelief. “You never said a word about it. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You never asked me what I did in Spain, Mother,” Charlotte stated quietly, “or anywhere else I went this summer.”
Elizabeth looked crestfallen. “Didn’t I?”
“Not once.” Charlotte shook her head.
“Oh, Charlotte, I am sorry. I just don’t know what to say. The boys occupy so much of my day, but that is no excuse for ignoring my daughter.” Elizabeth looked contrite. “Can you ever forgive my thoughtlessness?”
“Yes.” Charlotte squeezed her mother’s hand.
They sat in silence, staring at the portrait together.
“What shall I do?” Charlotte finally murmured. “I didn’t think I would ever see him again and then he happens to befriend Alec, of all the people in the world! And here he is at our home.”
“Have you spoken to him about any of this?”
“I’ve only asked him to leave.”
“Do you want him to leave?”
“No.” The truth was she wanted to be with him always.
“You tend to push people away, Charlotte, if you haven’t noticed. You had better think long and hard about what you want. I like this young man and have an idea you will be very happy with him, if that portrait is any indication of your feelings for each other.” She looked toward the painting again and shook her head in wonder. “It’s amazing. I’ve never seen you look so full of joy, Charlotte.”
“I was.” At the time she had attributed her happiness to the seductive atmosphere of Don Francisco’s villa and the carefree environment of Doña Yvonne’s art studio, but now she realized it was simply being with Gavin that had made her feel so alive and joyful. She recalled what her Aunt Louisa had said to her in Spain about not wasting opportunities for happiness. She did not wish to follow in her aunt’s footsteps.
Elizabeth continued, “If you love him, I suggest that you let him know it. Men have their pride, after all. You have already left him once and he has another woman willing to marry him. He won’t wait for you forever.” Her mother gave her a hug of reassurance. “Perhaps you should talk to him about the—”
“I believe the ledger we need is in this desk.”
Elizabeth was interrupted by the arrival of Alec Forsythe and Gavin Ellsworth. Both young men entered the study clearly under the impression the room was unoccupied. They both stopped abruptly when they saw Elizabeth and Charlotte on the sofa.
“Oh, excuse us—”Alec saw the painting first and his mouth dropped open.
Charlotte kept her eyes on Gavin, her pulse quickening at the sight of him. He truly was too handsome for words.
“What in blazes is that?” Alec cried.
Gavin was as riveted by the painting as she had been. A look of wonder lit his face. He glanced at Charlotte with appreciation, and without words they both understood that the painting was incredibly special. She gave him a tentative smile.
“In the picture … It is Gavin and … good God!”—Alec turned with eyes bulging toward his sister—“Charlotte?”
Elizabeth rose from the sofa and went to Alec. “Yes. It was painted while they were both in Spain this summer. Isn’t that remarkable?” She took his arm and led him toward the door. “Come with me, dear. We’re going to give these two a bit of privacy.” Elizabeth gave a quick smile of encouragement to her daughter before exiting.
Now that she was alone with Gavin, Charlotte’s mouth went dry at what she was about to do.
Chapter 13
As the door to the study closed, Gavin remained still. Judging from the hasty retreat of Charlotte’s mother and in light of the arrival of the painting, he surmised that their ruse of not knowing each other had come to an end. The stunning portrait that leaned against the wall quite clearly indicated in no uncertain terms that he and Charlotte knew each other on an intimate level.
Doña Yvonne had outdone herself. That creative, vivacious woman possessed an amazing talent. The painting was beautiful. There was an incandescent quality to the colors giving their human forms a touch of the divine. Charlotte was mesmerizing in her beauty, and even he had to admit that he looked more handsome than he imagined himself to be. It was quite flattering. But it was the deep emotions portrayed within that astounded him. These two people were undeniably in love with each other.
“It just arrived today.”
Charlotte’s soft voice broke his concentration on the portrait. She had risen from the sofa to stand beside him.
“Was your mother horrified by it?” he questioned.
“Yes, at first she was terribly upset to see me posed in such a way. But I think now she sees that it is simply an incredible work of art.”
Gavin nodded in agreement. “I had no idea it would turn out so fine.”
“Neither did I.”
“Honestly, I never thought I would ever see it.” He tore his gaze from the framed portrait once again and focused on Charlotte. His heart skipped a beat. Her natural beauty was more than any artist could capture. “I am happy she sent it to you.”
“The letter she sent said she hated to part with it, but she thought I should have the portrait. She also said she hoped that you found me.” She paused a moment and there was a catch in her voice when she asked, “Were you looking for me?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “When you left me that day in Spain, I realized I did not know how to reach you. I asked Doña Yvonne if she knew where your home in England was, but she only knew where your aunt lived. I wrote to your aunt, requesting your address, but I never heard from her.”
“You wrote to Aunt Louisa about me?”
“Yes, a few times.”
“Aunt Louisa has been away. She married while we were in Italy and has been traveling with her husband—”
“She married?” he echoed in amazement.
“Oh, yes, it was quite romantic.” Charlotte’s blue eyes sparkled. “She married the man she was in love with her entire life. But she has not been home in London at all. She more than likely has not received your letters.”
“Well, that explains not getting an answer from her,” he said ruefully. A thought perplexed him. “But then how did Doña Yvonne know where to send the painting to you?”
Her elegant brows drew together. “Perhaps Aunt Louisa gave Doña Yvonne my address when she visited Spain on her way to Egypt with Carlos.”
After a thoughtful moment, she asked, “Why were you trying to find me?”
“Do you really have to ask why? I should be asking you why. Why you left without saying good-bye, Charlotte. Without even a word to me. After that night we—” He broke off, unable to speak.
She whispered hurriedly in explanation, “I didn’t think that you would care if I left, that it would—”
“What?!” he boomed. The girl was batty. “Why would you think I wouldn’t care that you left?”
Her chin went up. “I know how you are. You’ve done that with other women and I thought it would be best if I just went on my way—”
“For your information, I have never done that with a woman like you before, and I wanted to marry you,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
The color drained from Charlotte’s face and she stumbled back to the sofa, sank into the cushions as if her legs would no longer support her. “I had no idea.”
He moved to sit beside her. He took her warm hand in his as she spoke.
“When I woke up the next morning I was afraid. I couldn’t face you after … after what we did that night and I didn’t know how to tell you that my aunt and I were leaving. I didn’t want you to feel bound to me or obligated to marry. I just had to get away …” Her voice faded.
“What had I done to make you flee from me?”
“I thought … I thought you were a rogue.”
“I was.” He flashed her a grin.
“I felt that I was merely a summer diversion for you.”
He took in the meaning of her words. He asked softly, “And what was I to you then, Charlotte?”
There was some hesitation before she responded. “I think what I feared most of all were my feelings for you.”
“Why?” He waited for her to continue, holding his breath.
“I had never done any of the things I ’d done with you in Spain before. Posing for the painting, kissing you, being with you …” Soft color suffused her cheeks now. “I’d never felt that way about anyone before, the way I felt about you.”
“And how did you feel?”
“Happier than I ’d ever been in my life.”
He grinned. “That’s how I felt being with you.”
Her blue eyes clouded with doubt. “But, Gavin, I didn’t think you truly cared. You are not serious about anything and I—”
“I was serious about you.” Gavin squeezed her hand.
“I wish I had known that,” she murmured.
“You never gave me a chance to tell you that, did you?”
“I suppose not.”
“Meeting you changed everything for me, Charlotte. Losing you just about destroyed me. Do you have any idea how thrilled I was to find you here? I had no idea that Alec was your stepbrother when he and I became friends. I did not know your stepfamily’s name was Forsythe. What are the chances of me discovering you this way?”
“It is remarkable.”
“It is more than that, Charlotte. It’s fate.”
She raised her eyebrows.
He pressed on. “And the painting of us arriving while I was here? More fate.”
“What does it mean?” she ventured.
He leaned in close to her, his lips brushing the silky softness of her cheek. The scent of lily of the valley wafted over him. “It means that you cannot run away from me this time, because we were meant to be together.”
She pulled back, her eyes searching his. “I wish I hadn’t run from you, Gavin. I regretted leaving you the moment I was on that ship bound for Italy. I was such a fool. It was too late then and I didn’t know how to get back to you. I tried to forget you. I really tried. I thought that if I didn’t speak of you to anyone or tell anyone what happened you would cease to exist. All I succeeded in doing was making myself more miserable each day with longing for you, because I thought of nothing but you all these months. I missed you more than you can imagine.” She finally paused for a breath before she confessed, “Gavin, I won’t run away from you this time.”
As he lost himself in the blue depths of her eyes, his heart turned over in his chest. Unable to resist any longer, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her sweet lips. She responded with undisguised ardor. It was heaven to feel her this way again. Their arms found their way around each other and he held her tight.
He had finally found Charlotte and he was never going to let her go.
“You couldn’t run away now, even if you wanted to,” he whispered in her ear.
“Why is that?”
“Because I am not going to let you. In light of our little scene at the table last night, your stepfather and I had a bit of a chat this afternoon. I asked his permission to marry you.”
She blinked at him. “You did?”
“Yes.” He kissed her again. He would never tire of kissing her. “Yes, and it’s a good thing I did it before he sees that painting.” He imagined Alexander Forsythe being none too pleased over Gavin’s intimate relationship with Charlotte. It was bad enough to have her parents suspect the worst. It was something else to have blatant proof of how far their love affair had progressed.
“What did he say?”
“He consented to the match as long as it is your desire to marry me. Then he wished me luck, informing me that you had turned down numerous offers of marriage in the past.”
Charlotte laughed ruefully. “My reputation precedes me.”
“It’s no laughing matter. You may have refused the others, but not me. I’m not going to lose you again, Charlotte, in spite of your trying to get rid of me.”
“But you are already engaged to the woman your father approves of.”
Enjoying the touch of jealousy he detected in her words, he shook his head in reassurance. “That was never official. In truth, I did not wish to marry her. I was merely at a loss to find you and thought I would please my father. I haven’t even seen the woman since we were young children.”
“Oh,” she breathed, and he noted the relief in her expression as she grinned. “So, are you going to ask me?”
Thrilled, he moved to the floor and knelt on one knee, taking her warm hand in his.
“Gavin!” A smile of delight lit her beautiful features.
His heart thudded loudly, but he had never been more sure of something he wanted before in his life. And he wanted this beautiful woman with him. Forever. “Charlotte Wilton, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes, I will marry you,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, “because I love you.”
Gavin moved back to sit beside her and drew her into his embrace. “I love you, Charlotte.” He held her close to his heart for some minutes. He could not believe his good fortune at finding her again.
“Let’s hang the painting in our bedroom,” she murmured.
He laughed low in his throat. Most women would immediately be thinking of wedding plans, but Charlotte was decorating their bedroom. Their bedroom. His heart began to pound again. “Yes, that is exactly where that portrait belongs and that is exactly where we shall hang it. After we return from our honeymoon trip.”
“Our honeymoon …” she said in a soft whisper. “Spain?”
“Where else would we go?”
Charlotte gave him a seductive little smile. “Maybe Doña Yvonne could do another portrait of us?”
“What a brilliant idea….” Gavin kissed her.
The Naked Baron
SALLY MACKENZIE
Praise for The Naked Gentleman
“Hilarity reigns as a queen of love and laughter crafts another “naked” book designed to keep you smiling. This delicious romance blends MacKenzie’s hallmark humor with a cast of unforgettable characters.” —Kathe Robin, Romantic Times
“What a great series! Funny, spicy, and romantic.” —Jane Bowers, Romance Reviews Today
Praise for The Naked Earl
“Naked, noble, and irresistible—who could resist one of Sally MacKenzie’s heroes?” —Eloisa James, New York Times be
stselling author
“Providing plenty of heat and hilarity, MacKenzie has great fun shepherding this boisterous party toward its happy ending; readers will be glad they RSVPed.” —Publishers Weekly
“The latest in MacKenzie’s delectably sensual Naked historical Regencies series has plenty of sexy sizzle and charming wit.” —Booklist
Praise for The Naked Marquis
“The Naked Marquis is an endearing confection of sweetness and sensuality, the romance equivalent of chocolate cake…every page is an irresistible delight!” —Lisa Kleypas, New York Times bestselling author
“With a delightfully quirky cast of characters and heated bedroom encounters, MacKenzie’s latest Naked novel delivers a humorous, sprightly romance.” —Romantic Times
“The Naked Marquis is a delicious indulgence. Treat yourself!” —Once Upon a Romance
Praise for The Naked Duke
“MacKenzie sets a merry dance in motion in this enjoyable Regency romp.” —Booklist
“This is a funny, delightful debut by a talented writer who knows how to blend passion, humor and the essence of the Regency period into a satisfying tale.” —Romantic Times
“Debut author Sally MacKenzie has penned a marvelously witty novel…. Readers who enjoy a large dose of humor will love The Naked Duke. The characters are charming, and the pace is quick. It is the perfect book for a cozy winter retreat.” —A Romance Review
EVER SO LIGHTLY
He silenced her with his fingertips. Lord Dawson removed his glove; his skin was warm and slightly rough as he stilled her lips and then slowly traced their outline.
What was he doing? Why did her lips feel suddenly swollen? Grace parted them slightly.
His lips touched hers as lightly as his fingers had. The briefest brush and then brush again…
