He told me to stay away from you.”
Strong hands roamed her back in the most comforting fashion. “You should have listened.”
Rose raised her face to look at him. “But then I would not have known what it was to be truly happy.”
Grey’s eyes widened, and for a moment he looked young and vulnerable. “Don’t say that. I’ve made you miserable.”
She smiled sadly. “True, but those nights with you at Saint’s Row? That was happiness for me. The most I’ve ever known.”
His mouth opened and she pressed her fingers again his lips to close them. “You don’t have to say anything. I already know it’s not what I want to hear.”
Grey frowned, and reached up to move her hand from his face. He held her fingers within his. He gave off more heat than the fire she’d fried herself in front of earlier. Heat that went straight to her bones, right to the very center of her being, radiating out into her limbs. There was nothing seductive about their embrace and yet she ached inside, that wet and willing part of herself desperate to take him inside once more. She wanted to claim him, mark him.
Ruin him for anyone else.
“I was happy too,” he said softly. So softly she wouldn’t have known it was him who spoke were she not watching his beautiful lips as they formed the words. “God help me, you make me forget every vow and promise I’ve ever made.”
Heart pounding, Rose didn’t resist as he dropped her hand to thread his fingers in her hair, pressing against her scalp. “You make me feel like someone else,” he told her gruffly. “A good man. A worthy man, and not a selfish bastard too corrupted to ever be loved.”
Her eyes burned, but Rose managed to hold the tears at bay. She bit her lip, staring at him, she knew, with her heart in her eyes. She didn’t care. “You are a good man,” she whispered. “The best I know.” Who else would cut himself off from almost all contact with people simply to keep himself from returning to a way of life he wanted to leave behind?
“You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why not? I believe them.”
“Because when you say them, I want to believe them.” And then he lowered his head and captured her mouth with his own.
You have a wonderful knack for putting things in perspective, my dear. You make me feel quite intellectually inferior.”
The blonde girl grinned. “You see? I’m already learning to become a politician’s wife.
My only concern is your happiness, and I think Greyden makes you happy.”
“He does.” She frowned. “And oddly miserable at times.”
She was pulled into a warm, sweetly scented embrace. “That’s love, dearest. Welcome to it.
Last night Grey and I were caught together and now he insists we marry.”
Eve’s eyes were huge blue saucers. “Define ‘caught.’”
Rose stroked Heathcliff’s silky ears. “Naked and in bed-that sort of caught.”
Her friend looked positively scandalized-and gleeful. “No! Who caught you?”
“His brother Archer and a servant.” She purposefully did not mention anything about Bronte’s situation. As much as she trusted Eve, she could not be certain that none of the grooms wouldn’t overhear. And since most of the household probably knew about her and Grey by dawn, it didn’t seem so important to keep her own council in that regard.
“I have no doubt that your maid is getting every sordid detail-and possibly embellishment-belowstairs as we speak.”
Eve frowned. “Do you think Ryeton’s servants would be so cruel as to discuss you openly?”
She rolled her eyes. “They would never in a million years do anything to intentionally hurt me or Grey, but there’s bound to be talk. It’s that affection for both of us that makes their lips loose. I swear one of the footmen grinned at me this morning as I took breakfast.”
Her friend chuckled sweetly, laughing even harder as one of the pups came up on its hind legs to lick her chin. “At least you will have dedicated servants, if not indiscreet ones.”
Rose had to smile-it was that or burst into sobs. “At least.
After more hours in a carriage with Archer than he ever wanted to experience again, Grey returned to Ryeton House. All he wanted to do was find Rose, climb into bed with her, and sleep for the rest of the day. Honestly, sleep. Entwine his legs with hers, sink into her arms, bury his face in the sweet warm hollow of her neck…
“You coming?”
Grey blinked and turned his head. He was standing in the drive with Archer and the others watching him expectantly.
Archer shook his head, clearly exasperated. “Are we going inside, Your Grace, or shall we conduct our business on the street for all Mayfair to witness?”
“Inside,” he mumbled. Could he be any more of an idiot? He walked toward the door, the others falling into step behind him. Archer took Bronte’s arm and led their pale, scared-looking sister into the house. Grey hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to her, to let her know that everything would be fine. She probably thought he was going to rant and rave and tell her she could never see Alexander again.
Truth be told, ranting and raving was tempting. And a little fear was a small price to pay for what she’d put him through-and for thinking so ill of him to begin with. When had he ever given her reason to think him a monster?
Voluptuous?”
Grey smiled at the naughty light in her gaze. “A full subscription. Perhaps you will discover between the pages other activities you would like to sample with me.”
It wasn’t much of a gift, certainly not an expensive one, but Rose embraced him as though he had given her the world-and he had the wine stains on his cuffs to prove it. “Thank you!” She kissed his cheek. “Oh, Grey, thank you so much!”
“It’s only a magazine, Rose, but you are welcome.”
She pulled back so that he could see her face, the delighted flush in her cheeks. “It’s not just a magazine. It’s a gesture of…trust and respect. Do you know how many husbands would forbid their wives to read such literature?”
Yes, he did, and he would hardly call it literature. “I’m of the opinion that a husband can only benefit from his wife reading this kind of material.”
A coy, seductive-wonderfully wicked-smile curved her full lips. “Perhaps we will both benefit.”
He could shag her senseless right then and there. He gave her back her wine instead, and positioned himself with his back against the headboard. He tugged her close, turning her so that she sat with her back against his chest. “Read to me.”
She looked horrified at the idea. “What? No, I couldn’t.”
Grey trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, smiling smugly as she shivered. “Read it. Please.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as they parted the pages. “What would you like to hear?”
“A story,” he replied, brushing the tip of his finger along the curve of her ear. “Something that will take a while.” Because the longer she read, the longer he could touch at his leisure.
“’Lady Jane’s Confession,’” she read, her voice a little huskier than normal, “’Or, An Adventure in Lust.’”
Grey gently pulled a pin from her hair and set it on the bedside table. “Sounds interesting.
He had promised Charles Danvers that he would stay away from his daughter and he had willfully and recklessly broke that vow despite the best of intentions. However, Charles Danvers had made many promises as well, promises he broke when he took his own life. So if his old friend’s ghost ever did come a-haunting, Grey would feel reasonably justified in telling him to sod off.
Kathryn SmithGood morning,” he said.
A slow, bright smile curved her lips. “It’s hardly morning. It’s still dark out.”
It was bright enough for him to see her face, and that was all he needed. “Close enough.”
She rolled away from him and threw back the covers. Naked, she strode across the room.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, bolting upright. Was that fear causing his heart to race like that?
Rose shot him a sheepish glance over her bare shoulder. “Morning constitution,” she replied and slipped into the adjoining bath. The door clicked shut behind her.
Grey fell back against the pillows, cursing himself for being such an idiot. Had it been so long that he’d forgotten what it was like to wake up with a woman? And what the hell had he thought she was doing? Running away from him without a stitch of clothing?
He rubbed both hands over his face. He was an idiot. She’d made him an idiot.
So you were bored and decided to come looking for me?”
He trailed a finger over the exposed part of her upper chest. “Something like that.”
Blushing prettily, she brushed his hand away, but not before giving his fingers a squeeze. “Well, I’m busy, so unless you want to help Heather and me in our endeavors, you will have to find some way to amuse yourself.”
Grey sighed. “All right, I’ll go, but only because I’m likely to ruin whatever beautification potions you two lovely witches are brewing.”
Behind Rose, the maid Heather giggled. Grey grinned at Rose’s wide-eyed disbelief as she looked at first her maid and then him. “Have you always charmed women so easily?”
Grey’s humor faded. “I’m afraid so.” And then softly, “It if offends you…”
She shoved her palm into his shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot. Flirt with my maid all you want. But I don’t want to hear anything from you when I smile at the footmen.”
God she was amazing. He slipped his arms around her, no caring that the maid could see, even though she made a great pretense of not looking. “Are you going out tonight?”
Rose pushed against his chest. “Grey, I’m all sweat and grime.”
“I don’t care. Answer me, are you going out?”
She arched a brow. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No.” He held her gaze as he lowered his head, but he didn’t kiss her. He simply let the words drift across her sweet lips. “I’d keep you here every night if I could.”
She shivered delicately. Christ, he could kiss her. He could make love to her right there. “All you have to do is ask.”
“I won’t have you give up your society for me.”
Something flickered in her dark eyes. “It wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice.”
Because of the gossip? How long before she began to resent him for it? He could just push her away and be done with it-tell her to go out and find herself a lover, but he would rather carve up the rest of his face than do that.
Instead, he took the coward’s route. He didn’t ask for an explanation. He didn’t want to know what she’d heart about him or what they’d said about her. He simply smiled and decided to take advantage of what time he had left. Because he loved having her with him, and spending what had always been lonely hours in company better than any he might have deserved or ever wished for.
“You are sweaty and grimy,” he murmured in his most seductive tones. “And now I find I am as well. Shall we meet in the bath in, say, twenty minutes? I’ll scrub your back if you’ll scrub mine.”
Of course, when she joined him later, and their naked bodies came together in the hot, soapy water, all thoughts of scrubbing disappeared. And so did-for a brief while-all of Grey’s misgivings.
But he knew they’d be back.
Let’s go home,” she said.
He arched his brows. “Already? I thought you would want to stay for a while.”
Dark eyes flashed. “No, I want to take you home where women can’t stare at you like hyenas after a baby chick.”
He laughed-loudly, which caught a fair bit of attention. “Surely I’m more threatening than a chick?”
She smiled, ruining her petulant expression. “A puppy perhaps.”
Grey stepped closer so that their torsos touched. It was totally improper behavior, but the gossips already had so much to talk about, one more thing would hardly matter. “Is that all you want to take me home for? To protect me?”
Her gaze turned coy. “I received the newest edition of Voluptuous today. I thought I might read to you.”
Was it just him or had the temperature in the room suddenly climbed ten degrees. “Let’s go.”
He grabbed her by the hand and started weaving their way toward the door. People stopped hi to say hello, and he was forced to speak to them rather than be as rude as he wanted. A good fifteen minutes passed before he and Rose finally made it to the entrance of the ballroom, only to have Vienne La Rieux descend upon them.
“Monsieur et Madame le Duc!” she cried, clasping her hands together in front of her breast-abundantly displayed above a peacock-colored gown that must have cost a small fortune. “Finally, you leave my club together, non?”
Grey winked at her. “At last, madam. But we may want a room again someday.”
The French woman grinned, delighting in Rose’s obvious embarrassment. “Mais oui! An anniversary present, Your Grace. On the house.”
He thanked her and bade her farewell.
“She knew?” Rose’s tone was incredulous as they made their way closer to the exit. “How could she know?”
Grey shrugged. “The woman seems to know deuced near everything that happens here.
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