for a moment outside her door, William expelled a breath that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He’d hoped his outward display of sympathy and consideration would have chipped away at her barriers enough to grant him the opportunity to win a little more of her confidence—a confidence that had become essential to discovering her true motive for marrying him. But the determination to keep whatever secrets she had bottled up inside of her was all too apparent.
Time, he reasoned, coupled with patience and persistence would serve him far better than any display of the anger he felt coursing through his veins. It took every ounce of his willpower to stop his jaw from clenching and to stop the harsh words sitting on the tip of his tongue from spilling forth. And she made it no easier for him as she gazed back at him with a pair of big round eyes that effectively concealed her true, meddlesome nature.
As she’d sat there in bed, her slim figure propped slightly up against her pillow and her red hair fanned out behind her, she’d looked as innocent as a newborn babe. When it came to the art of deception, William knew that he had met his match, yet it made him only more determined to discover the truth about her.
Crossing the floor with heavy steps, he shrugged out of his jacket, undid his cravat, and began rolling up his shirt sleeves. He needed a drink to calm his mood. Truth was, he’d never been more confused in all his life. Considering how much he liked having a situation under his command, he hated feeling as though he’d lost all control of his own life. He thought of Lucy. Nobody had ever confounded him more, and while he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, he also felt it prudent to tread with caution. He wasn’t about to risk having his heart broken. He scoffed at the notion, no chance of that happening as long as he didn’t love her. And the way things were between them right now, it seemed unlikely that he ever would.
Forcing himself to ignore the ache in his chest, he went to the tray that always sat upon his dresser and reached for the crystal carafe that beckoned. He’d just curled his fingers around the neck of it when a loud clatter reached his ears—it had come from Lucy’s room.
Without pause, he ran across to the door and yanked it open, his eyes roaming the darkness that greeted him. “Lucy?”
“I’m quite all right,” she replied. She sounded moderately embarrassed if he wasn’t mistaken. “Sort of, at least.”
Sort of?
Returning to his own room momentarily, he grabbed an oil lamp and marched back into Lucy’s room, instantly catching his breath. “What on earth happened?” he asked, making a stoic attempt at keeping his voice level. It was damn near impossible though when his wife was standing there before him in nothing but her nightgown—her very translucent nightgown. He swallowed hard and tried to focus, but the more he did, the more aware he became of the slow heat that slid over him before settling in his groin, stirring him more vigorously than ever before.
Her body was that of a goddess—slim hips below a curvy waistline and above that…his mouth grew dry and he swallowed again. Heaven help him if those weren’t the sort of breasts that every man fantasized about—plump and perky as they strutted against the flimsy fabric in a seemingly eager attempt to escape. Well, there was a part of him that was growing more and more eager for escape by the second. He hoped she wouldn’t notice.
“I was trying to go back to sleep but felt restless, so I thought I’d go for a midnight stroll in the garden, but when I tried to find my dressing gown and shawl, I stubbed my toe against the table over there, knocking over the vase.”
“You were planning to go for a walk in the garden, dressed in nothing but your dressing gown? Did it occur to you that any number of our guests could have happened upon you? It would have been highly inappropriate to say the
Time, he reasoned, coupled with patience and persistence would serve him far better than any display of the anger he felt coursing through his veins. It took every ounce of his willpower to stop his jaw from clenching and to stop the harsh words sitting on the tip of his tongue from spilling forth. And she made it no easier for him as she gazed back at him with a pair of big round eyes that effectively concealed her true, meddlesome nature.
As she’d sat there in bed, her slim figure propped slightly up against her pillow and her red hair fanned out behind her, she’d looked as innocent as a newborn babe. When it came to the art of deception, William knew that he had met his match, yet it made him only more determined to discover the truth about her.
Crossing the floor with heavy steps, he shrugged out of his jacket, undid his cravat, and began rolling up his shirt sleeves. He needed a drink to calm his mood. Truth was, he’d never been more confused in all his life. Considering how much he liked having a situation under his command, he hated feeling as though he’d lost all control of his own life. He thought of Lucy. Nobody had ever confounded him more, and while he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, he also felt it prudent to tread with caution. He wasn’t about to risk having his heart broken. He scoffed at the notion, no chance of that happening as long as he didn’t love her. And the way things were between them right now, it seemed unlikely that he ever would.
Forcing himself to ignore the ache in his chest, he went to the tray that always sat upon his dresser and reached for the crystal carafe that beckoned. He’d just curled his fingers around the neck of it when a loud clatter reached his ears—it had come from Lucy’s room.
Without pause, he ran across to the door and yanked it open, his eyes roaming the darkness that greeted him. “Lucy?”
“I’m quite all right,” she replied. She sounded moderately embarrassed if he wasn’t mistaken. “Sort of, at least.”
Sort of?
Returning to his own room momentarily, he grabbed an oil lamp and marched back into Lucy’s room, instantly catching his breath. “What on earth happened?” he asked, making a stoic attempt at keeping his voice level. It was damn near impossible though when his wife was standing there before him in nothing but her nightgown—her very translucent nightgown. He swallowed hard and tried to focus, but the more he did, the more aware he became of the slow heat that slid over him before settling in his groin, stirring him more vigorously than ever before.
Her body was that of a goddess—slim hips below a curvy waistline and above that…his mouth grew dry and he swallowed again. Heaven help him if those weren’t the sort of breasts that every man fantasized about—plump and perky as they strutted against the flimsy fabric in a seemingly eager attempt to escape. Well, there was a part of him that was growing more and more eager for escape by the second. He hoped she wouldn’t notice.
“I was trying to go back to sleep but felt restless, so I thought I’d go for a midnight stroll in the garden, but when I tried to find my dressing gown and shawl, I stubbed my toe against the table over there, knocking over the vase.”
“You were planning to go for a walk in the garden, dressed in nothing but your dressing gown? Did it occur to you that any number of our guests could have happened upon you? It would have been highly inappropriate to say the
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