Swept Away by Phoebe Conn Page B

but whenever she was near, he was disgusted with himself for being all too aware of her disarming femininity.
    When finally the last of the callers had departed, Raven doubted he would be able to keep his opinion of Eden to himself, but she surprised him by excusing herself immediately. Grateful to be relieved of the agony of her company, Raven told Abbot he did not wish to be disturbed. He opened a bottle of Alex’s blackberry brandy that was made from the fruit of Briarcliff vines, and settled himself down in the study to be alone with his memories.
    He wasn’t certain when Alex had first told him about his heart condition, but for a long while he had refused to believe anything could possibly be wrong with the man who had raised him. Wisely, Alex had not belligerently forced him to face the pain of that reality, but that kindness did not make the sorrow Raven felt now any easier to bear. Every step of the way he had fought coming to terms with the fact Alex would never grow old, but he had not expected the last time he had seen him to be the last. He wished now that he had not insisted that Alex tell Eden the truth, but there was no way to take back their final conversation, nor the disastrous elopement to which it had led.
    Raven had gotten only a few hours’ sleep the previous night, and soon the warmth of the brandy and the solitude of the early evening combined to make him so drowsy he gave up his maudlin reverie in favor of going to bed. Not finding his valise in the room he always used, he wondered where Peter had taken it. He would not need clean clothes and his razor until morning, but he did not want to have to roam the halls looking disheveled then. After all, he was now an earl, and surely an earl did not greet a new day by prowling about his mansion searching for his clothes.
    Thinking it possible Peter might have mistakenly put the valise in Alex’s room, he went there first. The door was unlocked, a lamp burning on the chest of drawers illuminated the room, and just as he had supposed, his valise sat on the floor at the end of the bed. It was not the scuffed leather satchel that immediately caught his eye, however, for the fact that Eden was sound asleep in the magnificent mahogany bed shook him clear to the marrow.
    He closed the door quietly behind him, and as he approached the bed, the thick Aubusson carpet muffled the sound of his footsteps. Eden was smiling slightly, obviously lost in the sweetness of her dreams, and Raven could not help but wonder what she was doing in her late husband’s bed. Then a truly wicked thought occurred to him. The bed no longer belonged to Alex; it was now his.
    Was that Eden’s plan, to welcome him to Briarcliff as no one else could? Considering that likely, he brushed her long curls aside and leaned down to peer at her closely. He was not surprised to find her complexion was as flawless as it appeared from a few steps away, but there was no sign of tears on her lashes or cheeks. Plainly she was no heartbroken widow who had cried herself to sleep in her late husband’s bed. She was a clever vixen lying in wait for the next man to come along.
    Raven went back to the door, locked it, and secured the one leading to the adjoining bedroom as well. He then began to undress with deliberate care, slowly peeling off the fine clothes he had worn for Alex’s funeral. He wanted Eden to open her eyes and watch him, but she continued to sleep as though her conscience were as pure as her snowy white nightgown.
    Wanting to be able to watch her expression when she did awaken, Raven left the lamp burning low. Now nude, he raised the covers and joined Eden in the comfortable bed. She shifted her position slightly, but continued to sleep as he slipped his left arm beneath her shoulders to pull her into an easy embrace. Her hair again fell across her face, and as he combed it through his fingers, he could not help but marvel at its softness. She was the most alluring of women but now he