How dare he ruin her life! How dare he make her think that kissing and touching should be more than merely pleasant. How dare he make her hope for more than a simple marriage!
“Grace,” Alex said softly.
Grace bit back her groan of frustration. For the briefest of moments, she closed her eyes and prayed he’d leave her be. She couldn’t see him now. Not when her soul cried out for her to touch him. Not when her heart slammed wildly in her chest as if attempting to break free merely to be closer to him.
“Grace, we must talk.”
Angry, she spun around to face him, but he wasn’t looking directly at her, no, he was staring at an Italian painting, attempting to protect her reputation, most likely, by not making eye contact.
She had the sudden and spiteful desire to slap him, or kiss him. To do something ridiculous to draw attention to them, society be damned.
“I meant no offense,” he whispered, his voice catching in some odd, emotional way that gave her pause, made her almost annoyed. How could she be angry with him?
She glanced up and down the corridor. No one was looking their way. No, the guests were interested in either the art or the latest gossip. Over the many tophats and bonnets, Grace could see Patience speaking with Lady Maxwell. Lady Maxwell, a woman who understood the need to visit Lady Lavender’s.
Would Lady Maxwell acknowledge Lady Lavender should they happen upon each other? Doubtful. So much secrecy, so many lies. She didn’t understand this world any longer.
“Surely you must realize …” His voice broke, the emotion startling her so that she looked directly at him, not caring who noticed their communication.
His jaw was clenched tight, his gaze focused unrelentingly on that painting of Mary and Child. She knew, in that moment, whatever he had to say would change everything. Grace shifted, unsure if she should step away from him, or step closer.
“What?” she whispered desperately.
He turned his head ever so slightly, a mere tilt so he could meet her gaze. “Surely you must know how I think about you.”
She tore her gaze from him, worried the emotion she felt welling within might be visible in her eyes. “How do I know you’re not using your charm on me even now? Lady Lavender wouldn’t want to offend and lose a client, would she?”
She didn’t miss the way his hand lifted slightly, then fell back to his side, his fingers curling against his trousers as if he resisted the urge to touch her. “You know you are no client to me, Gracie. You are more, so much more.”
Her chest felt tight as her heart and soul warred with each other. He would break her heart, but her soul didn’t care… her soul craved the man. A sob of desperation clogged her throat.
Lord, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t be friends with Alex, not knowing he was kissing…touching…sleeping with other women. She couldn’t do it, knowing she’d never have him for her own. Yet, how could she possibly be without him? When he was near the world changed. The sun was brighter, the day warmer, life seemed full of possibilities.
“Walk with me?” The words burst from her lips before she could take them back.
He closed his eyes, knowing what she offered with that simple demand. “We can’t. Your reputation will be destroyed.”
“I don’t care.” She was being reckless, but need consumed any rationality.
He lifted his thick lashes, determination glinting in those blue orbs. “I care.”
At an impasse they were silent for one long moment, but she wasn’t one to give in easily. Even if it was for the briefest of moments, she had to be with him, to know if his feelings were true. “Come, follow me.”
She started forward, weaving her way around guests, knowing he followed for she could feel his very presence. Desperately she searched for her sister. Patience still stood next to Lady Maxwell. As if sensing her attention, the older woman looked up. Her gaze went to Alex, then Grace and an unspoken acknowledgment moved between them. She would look after Patience. There was no damnation, no judgment. Still Grace looked away, flushing.
She’d talked to the curators often enough to know which rooms were open to the public. Over the thundering of her heart, she heard the tap of Alex’s footsteps, quick and steady. Her pulse swelled with every step closer he got. She turned down a dark hall, the crowds gone. The silence was overwhelming. Only the soft tap of her footsteps…his…the swoosh of her skirts, the pant of her breath bounced off the walls and echoing down the corridor. They could be caught. Her reputation ruined. Rodrick would never marry her…
Yet, she didn’t stop. Didn’t turn back. She knew Alex followed, could sense his presence. The wooden door was there, at the end of the hall…coming closer… closer. She reached out. Even through her glove, the porcelain knob was cold. For one brief moment she paused. Alex’s broad chest pressed to her back as he leaned forward, enveloping her in his spicy scent. She savored the feel of his warm breath whispering against her temple. He settled his hand atop hers and twisted the handle. The door swung open easily.
The room had recently been added and was in a state of dishevel with unpainted walls and dusty floors, although no workers were here now. The curtains of two large windows were thrown wide, allowing the brilliant light of day to enter. Although they faced the back of the property, anyone could walk by and see them. She didn’t pause until she made it to the middle of the large room. She was highly aware of the door closing softly behind her. Highly aware that she was alone with Alex and this time it was different. This time Lady Lavender had not given her approval. This time she had not paid for his attentions.
Alone. They were alone…again. Somehow they always managed to find each other. Alex’s footsteps were slow and unhurried as they tapped against the wooden floorboards. Grace felt his nearness like a caress, as if he touched her even now, pulling her closer…closer. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t. Yet she was and all because…blast it, he cared. But were his feelings merely a ruse?
She could stand it no longer. The desperate need to hear the truth overwhelmed her good sense. Grace spun around. “Alex, I…”
But he wasn’t looking at her. No, he was focused on something behind her. Confused, Grace turned. There was a settee and three Oriental paintings against the far wall. And there…in the middle of the white space was a narrow case holding a variety of artifacts. Alex moved slowly, as if in a trance toward that tall case. His back was taut through the fitted length of his dark brown overcoat. His hands fisted around the rim of his beaver hat.
“Alex,” she said softly, stepping closer.
He paused at that case and lifted his hand, his fingers pressed to the glass. Mesmerized, he merely stared at the case as if he hadn’t heard her, didn’t even know she was there. Bemused, Grace paused next to him. A sword, a tiara of some sort and other objects that looked decidedly Old World. Pretty things, although not necessarily worth much. The large lock on the case would deter desperate thieves.
“What is it, Alex?”
“Russian,” he whispered.
She glanced toward the case again. Royal artifacts, most likely. She stepped closer, focusing on the card in the case. “Czar Nicholas the Second,” she read.
He turned away, the spell broken. “The sword was his uncle’s, not the Czar’s.”
Startled, her gaze jumped to him. She didn’t question how Alex knew. No, she remembered him speaking Russian at the antiquities shop. “You know about antiquities then?”
He released a harsh laugh. “No. No, I don’t.”
No other explanation. He moved toward the settee and settled down, his elbows on his knees his head in his hands. He looked so destitute, so unlike himself that her heart lurched and all her harsh thoughts toward the man were momentarily forgotten. She had the insane desire to comfort him, to save him, but she didn’t know how.
Grace hesitated, then went to him, kneeling and resting her hand on his thigh. “Alex?”
He didn’t stir. She reached out and rested her hand gently against the side of his face, those dark curls at his temple clinging to her fingers. Dear, lost, Alex. She smoothed the locks back, a motherly touch, a caring touch. He was not the man who had taught her seduction. Not the man she wanted in her bed. But the man she ached for.
He lifted his head, turning his face into her touch. The bristle on his cheek rubbed erotically against her sensitive palm. “What is it?”
“You can’t possibly understand,” his lips whispered against the inside of her wrist, sending shivers over her skin.
She swallowed her retort. Perhaps she didn’t understand. Everyone had their own, unique problems in life. But she could try to understand, if only he’d let her in. If only he’d trust her enough. Whatever his demons were, they were draining him. He could no longer continue the charming pretense, the social façade of normalcy.
“I apologize,” he stood, his body trembling slightly.
She stumbled to her feet, stepping back from him. His words were curt, that wall slammed back into place around his heart. His face was hard, blank, the emotions hidden deep within. Grace felt his withdrawal as if he’d physically moved away.
He looked everywhere but at her. “We should return before we’re missed.”
He started forward. Grace reached out, boldly grasping onto his arm. “No.”
He froze, as if the touch of her hand was poison.
“Please,” she whispered.
Finally he lifted his gaze. Those beautiful eyes held hers for one long, breathless moment. There was something there in the blue depths that haunted her, that tore through her very being…a pleading look as if he was searching for answers and she was his salvation. He needed something…something…but she didn’t know what he needed, nor did she know if she was capable of saving him. Yet, she couldn’t let him go, not now, perhaps not ever.
“Alex…I…” Giving into temptation, she stepped close, pressing her body to his and wrapping her arms around his neck. She rested the side of her face against his shoulder and squeezed him tightly. She held him, not expecting anything in return, merely held him as she’d hug a family member or a friend. He was stiff for a moment, but ever so slowly his body relaxed into hers as his hands inched up her back, pulling her closer. Alex pressed his face into her hair, breathing softly.
Their hearts pounded together, slowly, steady. One.
Grace closed her eyes, her hands fisting against the lapels of his overcoat, the material warm from his body. She didn’t want to let go and had no bloody idea why. Somehow, Alex had burrowed into her heart, her soul.
She breathed deep his scent… man, leather and spice. A scent that stirred her longing like no other. She had a feeling she’d never tire of Alex. She lifted her head, pressing the side of her face to his, her breath stirring the dark strands of hair that curled close to his ear.
“I want you, Alex,” she whispered. She knew the words were bold, but they had slipped from her lips before she could stop them. Not words meant to encourage his amorous desires, but more a plea… a cry for help.
Her hands whispered up his muscled arms, over his broad shoulders, lingering at the sides of his face. She played with those strands of hair at his temples, entwining the locks around her fingers, savoring the feel of the smooth texture.
Alex’s breath grew harsh against her cheek, a warm caress that seeped through her body, down into her very being. A feeling she had never had with Rodrick. A feeling she worried she’d never have with him. But no, she wouldn’t think of Rodrick now. Her time with Alex was precious. Grace stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to the shell of his ear. She wanted to forget her problems, needed to think of nothing other than the warm, aching sensations that swirled deep within her gut whenever she thought of Alex.
He didn’t move, merely stood still, his arms wrapped stiffly around her, as if he feared any movement. Emboldened, Grace turned her head, pressing kisses along his jawline… unassuming, gentle kisses. Kisses that bespoke of affection. Of care. Of hope.
When she’d left that garden last night, she hadn’t expected to see him again. She’d felt his absence like a death. Now he was here and she was alive once more. She worked her way up, pressing her mouth to the corner of his lips. Still he didn’t move, barely breathed. Did he wish her to stop? His eyes were closed, his body stiff under her touch. She could read nothing in his features. But it didn’t matter what his feelings were, the need within her was too great to resist. How she couldn’t get enough of him!
Grace tilted her head and pressed her mouth fully to his. Alex groaned. Reputation be damned! Her tongue darted out, drawing a soft line against his lips. Alex sighed, opening his mouth to her. What was it about this man that made her forget her reputation?
Alex tightened his hold, his hands cupping her bottom and drawing her closer. Even through the layers of skirts and petticoats she could feel his erection, thick and hard. His tongue stroked hers, quick passionate strokes that sent shivers down her spine. As he kissed her, the world fell away. The universe revolved around them. Nothing mattered but him.
“How I want you,” he whispered against her mouth.
One moment she was pressed to his body, the next she was in his arms, cradled against his hard chest. Grace’s skirts crinkled and bunched under his touch, trailing behind him as he swept toward the settee. Against the side of her breast, she could feel his heart slamming erratically. His gaze was hard, his jaw set stubbornly.