The Desires of a Countess (8 page)

He couldn’t let her, not when her pain
was so palpable that he could have touched it. He caught her
shoulders gently and was shocked that she flinched under his hands
like she was awaiting punishment.

“
Look at me.”

She shook her head as she labored to hold back
tears.

“
Please?” He put a finger
beneath her chin to lift her face to his. She held his gaze, though
she blinked a few times to keep the water from flowing down her
cheeks. He had to smile at her ability to stay strong even when her
pain was so obvious. “I would never take your son. I’ve been given
the responsibility of helping you raise him, and I take that very
seriously. I only wanted to meet him.”

“
You should have respected
my wishes. You should have waited,” she choked out, but the heat
was long gone from her voice.

He nodded. “Yes, I see now that this
was far more important to you than I’d understood. I
should
have waited for your
approval, but the fact that I didn’t doesn’t mean I was trying to
steal the boy away.” He tilted his face closer to hers. “You know
that, don’t you? You know me well enough to understand
that.”

She held steady in his arms as she
searched his face. For a brief moment he glimpsed the vulnerability
she tried so hard to hide beneath a tough exterior. Then she shook
free of his grip and turned away.

“
I don’t know you. I
don’t
want
to know
you.”

The sting of her words cut him as
deeply as a dagger, and he turned his face. When he spoke again, it
was with words designed to cut her just as deep. “Then why did you
kiss me?”

Her spine stiffened as she slowly
turned to look at him. She opened and shut her mouth.
“I-I-”

He smiled at the desire that flickered
in her eyes. Even if she denied it, it was clear his presence moved
her as much as she moved him. He wasn’t about to let her refute
that.

“
I think you’re afraid.
Afraid of me, but not because of your son or the will or the
estate.”

She swallowed and took a short step
back. “I-”

“
That was the cause of your
fear at first.” He shoved off from the stable door to take a few
predatory steps toward her. Her response to him was undeniable,
from the slight glaze of her eyes to the way her skin darkened with
a telling, sensual flush. Perhaps it was madness to continue to
press her, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “But now it’s for another
reason.”

In just two more steps he stood before
her. With aching slowness, he wrapped his hands around her upper
arms and pulled her closer, just as he had a few nights before. The
press of her full length against him was enough have him uttering a
quiet moan before he caught her lips for a slow, hot
kiss.

She responded as fervently as she had
the first time their lips had touched, deepening the kiss before he
could take the lead. Molding her body against his, she gripped the
planes of his back with smooth hands that sent fire searing through
him.

He pulled away, though it physically
pained him to do so. “Now you’re afraid because you want me and you
think that makes you guilty. Guilty of not mourning your husband.
Guilty for wanting to feel like a woman so soon after his
death.”

He dipped his head again to catch her
lips, but this time her response was more measured, as if she were
allowing his accusation to sink in. To his dismay, she flattened
her palms against his chest and pushed back with all her
might.

Her eyes flickered and her chin
stiffened. Once again, she’d erected a wall so high he had no
chance of climbing over it. At least not today. “You don’t know
anything about me, Simon Webber. Nothing at all.”

With that, she rushed out of the
stable into the spring day. As she disappeared from his sight,
Simon touched his lips, which still throbbed from the intimate
contact. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand the woman at
all. But instead of discouraging him, that fact only drove him to
delve even deeper into who Virginia Blanchard was and why she was
trying so desperately to push him away.

***

Ginny reached the crest of the hill
and looked down at the valley below. Westdale rose up in the
distance, as beautiful and regal as it had been the first time
she’d seen it. Maintaining the magnificent house had been one of
the only things to keep her sane during her years with
Henry.

That and Jack.

Her gaze drifted to the stable where
she’d left Simon. He probably wondered what was wrong with her, but
there was no way to explain to him what kinds of feelings he
inspired in her. Or that guilt was the last thing she felt when she
tasted his lips.

With a shiver, she turned to look at
Henry’s grave. She sniffled and blinked back the tears she’d barely
managed keep at bay when Simon had spoken so kindly to
her.

With a glare, she stared at the large
slab of marble that marked her husband’s grave. “I won’t cry, not
in front of you. I haven’t since that night, and I will not start
now.”

A gust of cool air burst over the hill
and blew tendrils of hair into her eyes. She pushed them back and
tried not to remember that it was Simon’s hands that had loosened
them from her chignon. Being around him made it so hard to remember
that she couldn’t let her guard down. Especially when his eyes
spoke of honesty and gentleness. Things she’d almost forgotten
could exist in a man.

“
I still hate you, you
know,” she whispered as she crouched down to wipe a splatter of mud
away from Henry’s name. “But Simon is wrong. I haven’t felt guilty
for one moment since that night.” With a glare, she rose to her
feet and turned her back on her husband’s grave. “Not
once.”

Again, her eyes trailed to the stable,
then down in the direction of the cottage. Places that now reminded
her of Simon more than Henry. His presence had erased some of the
unhappy emotions she’d once felt here.

“
I just don’t understand
your plan, Henry.” She shook her head. “Because I know in my heart
you must have had one. Was it simply that I’d be controlled by your
family? That someone would hold the key to our son’s future as you
once held the key to mine?”

She stared at the stone again and
barely resisted the urge to kick it. “Well, it won’t work. Even if
Simon isn’t the cold, calculating man I believed he might be, I
would never let anyone hurt my son. You learned that, didn’t
you?”

She folded her arms as she began a
slow, meandering walk back to the house. If she didn’t want Jack to
see her upset, she needed to take her time.

Jack.

Her little boy had to come first.
Before her hatred for his father. Before her… whatever she felt for
Simon. No matter what it took, whatever lies she’d have to tell or
weaknesses she had to exploit, she’d keep her child from harm. But
Simon only had one weakness that she could determine.

He wanted her.

Chapter Six

Simon grunted as he threw a large chunk of wood over
his shoulder and on to the growing pile outside the cottage window.
In the past two days he and Adam, along with a few men they’d hired
in the village, had nearly finished patching the roof and fixing
the walls. The place still wasn’t pretty, but at least it would be
livable.

Doing physical labor brought Simon
comfort. He’d never had much use for the stuffy goings on in
offices and clubs. He much preferred the ache of working his
muscles to the false laughter of closing a deal. Besides, it helped
him forget Ginny.

He’d hardly seen her since their last
sweltering kiss in the stable. When she ran away, he hadn’t
followed. The pain in her eyes had been so palpable, he was
reticent to find out the cause. After all, he already knew she was
the kind of woman he could easily care for. Pursuing her would only
cause more problems.

Apparently, she concurred, for she’d
avoided him ever since. Food and drink appeared from the house
every morning, noon and night, as well as bathwater and other items
to make him and his first mate more comfortable. But Ginny had been
pointedly absent.

He hated to admit it, but he missed
her. In just a short week, he’d become accustomed to her presence.
Now that it was gone, he wished he could see her face or hear her
voice.

With a shake of his head, he put all
his might into wrenching another section of wet wall down. He was
so focused on his task that he didn’t notice someone come into the
room until the sound of a throat clearing behind him made him look
up.

“
Simon?”

Releasing the section, he spun on his
heel and found himself face to face with the woman he’d been
thinking about just a moment before. Ginny wore a dark green dress
with a low cut bodice. Though a soft layer of pale green gauze
covered her exposed skin, he still found himself wishing he could
pull that layer away and touch the soft pink space right above her
breasts.

“
Bugger.”

Her eyes widened at his curse, and he
noticed she wasn’t looking at his face, but staring at his chest.
He’d nearly forgotten he’d taken off his shirt. Now blood pumped
hot in his veins as she stared at his partly exposed
body.

“
I beg y-your pardon?” she
asked, slowly tearing her eyes away from his body and up to his
face. “Did you just curse at me?”

“
No, I’m sorry. Just
frustrated.”

That was more than true. The
frustration was actually painful. And only one thing would make it
go away. Laying Ginny down on the nearest flat surface and making
love to her. Somehow he didn’t think that was an option.

He wiped the sweat from his brow with
his forearm and grabbed for the shirt that hung over a chair back.
She drew in a short breath in response and with a wicked grin, he
pulled it over his shoulders, but left it unbuttoned. Let her look.
If he had to throb with need, why shouldn’t she?

“
Do you require something?”
he asked.

“
No, I hadn’t seen you for a
few days, and I wanted to make sure you were finding everything you
needed. I thought you’d be going over the books more.” She glanced
around the room with wide, disbelieving eyes. “I never thought
you’d repair the cottage. You’ve done so much.”

He smiled at the awe in her voice.
“Well, I thought fixing this place up would help as much as
anything else. I’ll look at the books in greater detail, but for
now I’m content to finish with the cottage while the weather
holds.”

She frowned and drew a small section
of her lip between her teeth. “But you must want to get back to
your ship very much. This cottage isn’t that important, I never use
it. I hate to keep you from your real duties here.”

Now it was his turn to frown. “So
anxious to see me gone, are you?”

Ginny’s dark eyes flew to his face and
she flushed. “I-”

“
You want to get rid of me.”
Simon shrugged, though that fact was more important to him than he
cared to admit. “I don’t think you’ve ever made that a secret. You
don’t have to deny it now.”

She drew in a breath, and he could see
the fight about the come before she even uttered a word. He set his
shoulders in preparation for the battle, but before she could start
in on him, Adam breezed through the door with a crooked smile on
his face.

“
I got that boy Henderson to
gather up the wood that could be salvaged and-” He broke off when
he saw Ginny and scrambled to remove his dusty hat. “I beg your
pardon, my lady. I didn’t realize Simon had a visitor.”

“
It’s no matter,” Simon said
with a shrug. He was just as happy not to argue with her at the
moment. He didn’t think he had the energy after so many sleepless
nights. “You haven’t met her ladyship, have you?” He nodded toward
her. “Virginia Blanchard meet Adam Scott. My first mate and thorn
in my side on more than one occasion.”

To his surprise, the anger and
mistrust Ginny had shown him wasn’t evident as she held out her
hand with a friendly smile. It was the first real expression of
welcome or pleasure he’d seen on her face.

“
Mr. Scott, Mr. Webber has
told me so much about you. I’m very pleased to make your
acquaintance.”

Adam shook her hand with wary,
questioning glance toward Simon. “It’s very nice to meet you, as
well, my lady. Your home is quite beautiful.”

“
Thank you.” She turned her
back on Simon and her attention fully on Adam. “Mr. Webber tells me
you’re a Pall Mall player.”

Again, Adam’s eyes widened, and Simon
flinched. He’d all but forgotten that little lie. He’d only told it
to prove to Ginny that she didn’t really know him, and to get a
chance to challenge her in an arena where emotions wouldn’t be at
stake. He hoped if she saw him as a fair player on the field,
perhaps she might begin to see him as a fair man in
life.

All of which he’d neglected to mention
to Adam, who thought games of any kind were best left to little old
women and fools.