When it finally struck him how protective he was being toward Miss Bronson, he mentally shook off the feeling. He had no right to experience this with her at all.
“Thank you, Grey,” she said softly. “Martin and I don’t converse much, but when he talks to me, he’s not polite. He makes me feel like an imbecile and that I don’t have a brain... or at least that I don’t know how to use it. I realize now that I’m just a thorn in his foot, but I have never understood why he was this way around me.” She released a deep sigh. “Perhaps he is correct in assuming I’m worthless because I’m a wallflower and I don’t enjoy mingling.”
Once again, anger pierced Wesley, hotter than he’d expected. If Martin had been standing in front of him now, he’d throttle the imp within an inch of his life. Then Martin would know what worthless felt like.
“Miss Bronson, you cannot be more wrong.” He scooted closer until his leg brushed against her gown. Gently, he took her hands in his. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened, but that didn’t make him pull away. He needed to get his point across and sitting close to her on the couch was the only way he knew how to do it. “You are a lovely and intelligent woman. From what I’ve noticed, you are extremely level-headed, as well. I have never known anyone like you.”
She shook her head to deny him. “No, I’m nothing like you have described.”
“Indeed, you are, my blossom. Here you are, a woman who has been wrongly kidnapped, and yet so far, you have pointed out my mistakes, dared to threaten me with a knife, and then you have softened your heart and offered to help me with my goal. How many women do you know who would have been so brave in a situation like this?”
“Brave?”
He grinned. “Very brave, Miss Bronson.”
Immediately, her face lit up and she laughed out loud. Her brown eyes darkened and twinkled like stars in a night sky. He hadn’t realized how utterly amazing she was until now... and how mesmerizingly lovely. His heart leapt, knowing he had made her feel such happiness.
“You are too kind,” she said with a slightly stronger voice.
He shook his head and tried to stop his heart from beating so fast, and his smile from widening further. But it was impossible not to feel giddy. Her cheerful expression made his heart light, and he wanted to keep her smiling all the time.
“Anyhow,” he cleared his throat, getting his mind back on the matter at hand, “the reason I wanted to know how Martin treated you was because I’m wondering how he’ll react when I take you back home.”
The enthusiasm in her expression quickly disappeared. “Oh, no. If you return me home, he will find me a husband, and well...I can’t have him do that. You see, when he first told me that he wanted me out of the house, I applied for an ad in the newspaper for a mail-order bride. I’ve been sending telegrams back and forth to a man who wants to marry me, but I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks, and Martin threatened to marry me to one of his friends by Monday.”
It surprised him that she would want to marry someone she didn’t know. Then again, if roles were reversed, he might have done the same thing out of desperation.
Frowning, Wesley nodded. “I completely understand, but I need to get you back home so you can spy for me.”
Her throat jumped in a hard swallow. “You want me to... spy?”
“Yes, and you could even snoop through his study or his room when he is not there.”
Panic filled her gaze as color faded from her face. “I couldn’t possibly do that.”
Still holding her hand, he brought it to his chest and pressed her palm against his heart. Her attention moved to his chest and her expression softened. Even the rhythm of her breathing quickened. Surprisingly, his heartbeat sped up a notch just from her touch. This wasn’t good at all. How could he think straight if her touch affected him in such a way?
Charming her was working, and he’d have to keep it up if he wanted her full cooperation.
“Miss Bronson, if you help me with this, I promise you here and now that I’ll not let Martin marry you to someone you don’t know or love.”
After a few seconds, her gaze lifted to his face. “I... I believe you.”
Hope grew inside of him. She was slowly succumbing to his will. He needed her help desperately, and if he had to seduce her to get it, he would.
PART OF MARCELLA WANTED to truly believe him, and yet a part of her wanted to fear him because he had kidnapped her. But the more time she spent with Grey—now that he knew her true identity—the more she couldn’t stop herself from enjoying his company. It was also hard to believe, but it became much easier to talk to him. In fact, she rarely blushed anymore.
Another thing she noticed was his attitude toward her now that he realized she wasn’t the duchess. No longer did she feel he would hurt her, but she still didn’t know if she could trust him. He definitely wanted to see Martin put behind bars, but could she trust Grey at all?
Nevertheless, she found herself gazing into his green eyes, and enjoying it. His intense stare didn’t make her as uncomfortable as it had before. But now her breathing grew faster and whenever he smiled, her heart fluttered. She reined in her feelings, quickly. She couldn’t feel this way about him so quickly.
In two hours of talking, Grey continued to persuade her to help him spy on Martin. The mere thought started a churning pain in the pit of her stomach, starting slowly at first, but then it soon heightened the longer Grey practically begged for her help. Could a meek woman such as herself accomplish what Grey had instructed? Yet his soothing voice gave her encouragement and slowly confidence built inside of her. The feeling was foreign, and she doubted her ability to become his spy.
A half hour later—and after she had decided to spy on Martin—she and Grey started back to the estate, riding on his horse. Although she wasn’t wrapped in a horse blanket this time, she still sat on his lap. The position was so immodest and yet, so incredibly cozy. His arms and legs bracketed her body intimately. Warmth spread over her like comforting arms. There wasn’t any other place she’d rather be at this moment. Never had she felt this rush of emotions that seemed out of control, and since she was tired of questioning them, she decided she would just enjoy them for now.
“Remember,” he said after a while of traveling in silence, “make certain to be in rooms that have windows so I’ll be able to keep an eye on you the best way I can. If Martin tries to corner you in the hallway, casually lead him into the nearest room with a window. I’ll be watching from the glade of trees on the east side of the stable. There is also a small hillside opposite to the west wing that has trees and tall bushes that will keep me hidden.”
She swallowed hard, praying she’d be able to accomplish this. She needed to do this. How else could she become like the women she wrote about in her stories? But it was more than that. Grey had spoken to her as if he believed in her. Never had she had a man put so much trust and confidence in her. She couldn’t let him down.
She glanced over her shoulder and looked into his eyes. When he met her stare, her heart skipped a beat. She very much enjoyed his smoldering gaze. Something must be wrong with her, because this wasn’t like her at all.
“Can I ask you a question?” she wondered.
“Of course.”
“Is Grey your real name?”
His eyes widened. “Why do you ask?”
“I just want to get to know you a little better.” She shrugged. “Is it wrong of me to want to know the man I’m helping—the same man who assured me he wouldn’t allow Martin to marry me off to his friends?”
His face relaxed and he smiled. Her breath caught in her throat again. This had been happening too much to her, already. Yet, when he looked so incredibly handsome, how could she not react? Nevertheless, she must find a way to stop herself from feeling this way.
“No, I suppose it’s not wrong,” he answered.
“So, is Grey your real name?”
“It’s part of my last name.”
“Only part?”<
br />
“My friends call me Grey, and that is why I wanted you to call me by that name, too.”
His hand stroked her arm, making flutters inside her belly. Silently, she sighed and relaxed. It was then when she realized she was resting against a chest—a strong, masculine chest, no less.
“Grey? Have you ever kidnapped a woman before?”
He chuckled. “Never, which explains why I’d kidnapped the wrong woman this time.”
She laughed lightly. He stared at her differently this time, as if he enjoyed hearing her laugh. Her heartbeat skipped wildly.
She faced the road once more. Gradually, she relaxed against his chest. His pine scent let her know he was well bathed, and he used cologne, too. She liked that.
It was hard to keep from touching him in some way, which was another first for her. Even though he was incredibly muscular, resting against him like this was actually comfortable. Being a wallflower all of her life, she was used to daydreaming about men giving her some attention like they did to her sister. And just as all of the daydreams she’d had before, this one would eventually come to an end.
The steady rhythm of the horse lulled and relaxed her until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She closed them but tried to remain alert. All she could hear was the horse’s hooves and Grey’s breathing, and of course, his occasional sigh, which she found herself sighing along with him.
Gradually, his arm moved around her, holding her against him a little tighter. She smiled, and in her sleepy state, she cuddled closer. If only she could stay in her dreams and be like this forever. If only he was a true gentleman—a real knight who came to her rescue and would save her from the horrid brother-in-law who didn’t care a whit about her welfare. If only her dreams would come true.
Her eyes hadn’t been closed for very long before the horse came to a sudden stop. As she blinked herself awake, the heaviness consuming her body let her know she’d been asleep much longer than she’d realized. “Where are we?”
“Your home,” he whispered.
Her chest tightened with emotion as she glanced down the grove at the estate. It had only been a few hours since Grey had taken her away from here, and she knew the place would be the same when she returned, yet studying the grand house made her realize how lonely she’d been lately. Years ago, she’d convinced herself she’d never marry, and when they were offered to take care of Lottie, Marcella jumped at the chance to feel like a mother. Yet, now... now she wanted to know what it would be like to feel like a wife.
Inwardly, she scolded her thoughts, especially when she’d pictured Grey playing that particular role. She wanted to laugh to think that not too long ago, he frightened her to death, and she couldn’t trust him, but now she was hoping he’d make good on his promise and be the one to rescue her.
SEVEN
Marcella waited in silence as Grey dismounted from the horse and turned to help her down. He carefully hooked his hands around her waist and lifted her off the saddle. She held onto his shoulders and kept her stare on his eyes as he lowered her. Marcella’s body brushed against him, but he didn’t seem to mind... and remarkably, she didn’t mind, either.
His Adam’s apple jumped, and he licked his lips. “I’ll let you go from this point. We don’t need Martin or the servants to see us together,” he said softly.
“No, we don’t.”
“Remember, you shall be fine. I won’t take my eyes off you.”
He’d said the last part so very tender, and the color of his gaze darkened slightly. It was hard not to trust him, and she prayed he’d follow through with his promise.
She realized he still held onto her and she held onto him. Suddenly, her throat turned dry, and she didn’t want to move away. “I’ll remember.”
“I think we should meet later tonight,” he said.
Hope sprang in her chest. “You do?”
“Yes. I want to know everything that’s happened and what hasn’t. Then we can plan for tomorrow’s day.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s an excellent idea.”
“Where should we meet?”
Her mind froze, and for the life of her, she couldn’t think of anywhere on the estate that would be private. Of course, it didn’t help her un-functioning mind because she was in his arms and she couldn’t stop gazing into those irresistible eyes of his.
The longer he watched her, his mouth slowly stretched into a grin. “There is a grove of trees by the pond.”
“Yes, I know.”
“In the evening, the grove of trees is very private. Not even the moon can light inside of them. I think we should meet there.”
Her heartbeat thudded quickly. That happened to be her favorite place in the whole world. “What time?”
“What time do you have supper?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“Then meet me there after supper.”
“Should I bring you something to eat?”
His smile widened, if that were possible, and his green eyes glimmered with happiness.
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
She didn’t know how long she stood standing in his embrace, but he acted as if he didn’t want to move, either. Finally, he cleared his throat and slowly dropped his arms. She quickly folded her arms to keep them occupied, because they suddenly felt empty. A strange hollow feeling encased her as sadness crept upon her.
“I shall see you later this evening.” His voice came out low.
“Yes.”
He didn’t move except for his gaze, and it dropped to her mouth. Urgency swept through her, and she wanted him to yank her back in his arms and cover her mouth with his for her very first kiss... the kind of kiss she’d dreamed about since she’d discovered boys were not as disgusting as she had first thought.
His body swayed toward her, and she held her breath. But he took a step back. She released the pent-up air in a rush between her lips.
“Don’t forget, I’ll be watching you.” He winked, turned and mounted his horse. He glanced at her one last time before riding toward his hiding spot.
Disappointment washed over her. She’d been rejected many times in her life, but never before had she felt this lonesome.
DARKNESS HAD COVERED the earth as Wesley peered through his hand-held binoculars and scanned the perimeter of the house slowly, looking for anything unusual. So far, everything was going smoothly. Marcella must have pulled off a splendid performance, because Martin was strutting around the house as if nothing was amiss.
Marcella had done as Wesley requested, and she stayed by the windows. Occasionally, she glanced out of the glass toward his hiding spot. She couldn’t see him, of course, but it lightened his heart knowing she was watching for him, nonetheless.
Marcella and Martin were in the dining room now; she was at one end of the table and Martin at the other. Wesley’s cousin spoke a few words to her, but thankfully, nothing more than that. Wesley’s little blossoming flower kept her head down and ate her meal the whole time Martin talked. Wesley’s gut twisted knowing that she had to put up with his cousin’s company, and he prayed she wouldn’t have to do that too much longer.
Suddenly, Martin threw his linen napkin on his empty plate, pushed away from the table, and stormed out of the room as if in a terrible fit. Wesley switched his binoculars back to Marcella, and a grin stretched across her pretty face as she looked toward the window. Wesley’s heart swelled. Now he wanted to know what was so humorous about Martin leaving the room that way.
Within minutes, she had moved away from the table and left the room. Exhilaration shot through Wesley. She’d be coming to their secret spot any minute now.
A movement by the front of the house drew Wesley’s attention there. Martin dashed out of the house and stomped his way toward the stable. His voice was raised in anger as he shouted commands to the servants to prepare his horse. Soon, the obtuse man was on his horse, riding away from the estate. This would make Wesley and Marcella’s meeting much better,
indeed.
Chuckling, Wesley shook his head as he hurried toward the place they’d planned to meet. He couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed watching her this evening. She was certainly different from when he’d kidnapped her earlier today. Then again, when he’d kidnapped her, he thought her to be someone else. Strange how things had worked out for the better.
This evening, she wore a lovely baby-blue gown with yellow floral designs. Her sleeves ended at her elbows, and the round neck of the gown looked to be decorated with white ribbon. Seeing her dressed this way made him want to change into his own clean attire. His clothes were dirty, and he suddenly wanted to look his best for her.
Visions of when he returned her to the house floated through his memory. He’d continued to hold her after lifting her down from his horse, and she had allowed the intimate moment. She had stared at him with her beautiful, wondrous eyes, and she even watched his mouth a time or two. It was during those moments when he’d felt the distinct desire to kiss her... passionately. He’d struggled not to follow his instincts, and thankfully, he was able to pull away and leave without devouring her.
But now, because he’d watched her for most of the day, he wanted her back in his arms. He wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss and caress her, and have her return those same affections. However, it was still too soon.
He blew out an exasperated breath. It would certainly be hard to control his urges while seeing her tonight, dressed so pretty, as they hid in the shadows together. Good heavens, he was a man... a man with needs. It would be near impossible to keep from pulling her against his body and kissing her senseless, but he must. She was promised to another man. She was now a mail-order bride. He shouldn’t have these improper thoughts about her.
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