'Twas the Night After Christmas by Sabrina Jeffries Page A

woman she apparently adored.
    But she wouldn’t believe him. Mother had spent the last six months persuading Camilla that everything was his fault. He wasn’t going to overturn that just by giving her a few facts. And that rankled. Because Camilla seemed to be a sensible woman who ought not to be taken in by such machinations. It bothered him that she was. That he might be missing something in all this.
    Missing something? Not bloody likely.
    No, Camilla was naive, that’s all. Charming and pretty, but a babe in the woods when it came to the sort of manipulative woman Mother was. Given a bit more time seeing him and Mother together, she would recognize the truth. That she’d been wrong about him and Mother and his blame in all this.
    Then there would be no more reckless letters summoning him to Montcliff.
    •  •  •
    In the hall, Camilla leaned against the wall to catch her breath and steady her racing pulse. He was staying for another day, anotherdinner with her and the countess. Earlier, she would have exulted at a second chance to convince him that his mother deserved his attention.
    Now she wasn’t so sure. Because the way he’d kissed her . . .
    Oh, heavens, the man knew exactly how to kiss. There was no hesitation or awkwardness. He just seized a woman and ravished her mouth like a marauding Viking. Thoroughly. Repeatedly. With great enthusiasm.
    But he’d promised not to do it again. Could she trust that? She’d never had a man desire her so intently before. And his attraction to her had not been feigned. She’d felt his arousal when he’d held her.
    Sadly, she shared the attraction. She wasn’t sure why. Yes, he had an interesting face and brooding eyes and a mouth that could turn any woman wanton, but he was also childish and arrogant. Such men generally annoyed her.
    It was just that he seemed so very . . . lost. Tonight, his nonchalant mask had slipped long enough to reveal the bravado beneath. He was like the orphan boys who told everyone they didn’t need parents, so they could hide how very desperately they did.
    But he had a mother who loved him. Somehow Camilla had to make him see how precious that was. For the good of everyone.
    Right. Selfless altruism is your only motive.
    She pushed away from the wall. All right, so there was more to it than that. She wanted not to be at odds with him. She wanted another chance at feeling that warm mouth on hers and those knowing hands kneading her flesh . . .
    Sweet heaven, she must be losing her mind! The last thing sheneeded was to make a lover out of her employer. Once an affair with him ended—and it always did with men like him—she’d lose both a lover and a good position. She couldn’t afford that.
    Especially when she and Jasper had finally found a family for the first time in their lives. Kenneth had been exactly as Pierce described him. He’d spent all his time in Spitalfields helping the poor, sick, and wicked. She’d run herself ragged to help him with his work and make a home for him and Jasper and rarely received thanks for her trouble. Their home together had been mostly a prison for her. Whereas here . . .
    She sighed. Montcliff was a haven. Here she got not only thanks but warmth and kindness and the closest thing she’d ever had to a mother. Here Jasper was flourishing. And she wouldn’t ruin that.
    Thoughts of her son made her quicken her steps. She paused outside his room to check her reflection in the glass of the case clock and groaned. She looked disheveled and unsettled. Wanton. She couldn’t let Maisie see her like this.
    Swiftly, she repaired her hair and straightened her bodice, hoping she didn’t look as if she’d just been thoroughly kissed by her employer. Her handsome, incredibly virile employer, who’d asked her to read a naughty book and then been horrified to realize it had pictures.
    The thought made her smile, then curse herself for being so charmed by it.
    Heading resolutely to her room, she