My Reckless Surrender - Page 87

Because his thoughts were elsewhere, he answered before he remembered he never talked of those dark days. “They almost did fail. Before I reached my majority, my uncle’s mismanagement brought me to the brink of bankruptcy. And with me, the rest of the family.”

She stiffened and turned to study him. “You’re rich now.”

Her gaze was troubled. As usual, he wasn’t sure what perturbed her. She was such a bundle of mysteries. It drove him insane.

He adjusted her stance so he could finish lacing her up. “Now.”

“You’re not what I expected,” she said softly as if she continued a long conversation with herself. She didn’t sound particularly pleased. “You must have worked like a demon to get everything back on an even keel.”

“Stand still, or I’ll never get this done,” he said absently.

Silence fell as he concentrated on getting her into her clothes. Ironic really when all he wanted was to get her out of them.

“Ashcroft?”

He finished and looked up as she turned to face him.

“You did work hard, didn’t you? And you still take responsibility for the Vales, although they nearly ruined you.”

He frowned, not liking the direction of the conversation. It always niggled that she found it so easy to unveil his secrets while she was so stingy with her own. “That makes me sound rather lily-livered, my love.” The endearment tripped easily off his tongue now and felt as familiar as the touch of her silken skin.

She smiled, although shadows lurked in her eyes. “You’re a man of surpassing grit. And generosity. Even if you do operate under false pretenses.”

She cupped his face. Like calling her his love, the gesture was familiar. It never ceased to stop his heart. She brushed her thumb across the sensitive corner of his lip. “You need a shave.”

Undoubtedly he did. He’d shaved before she arrived this morning, but it was now late afternoon. The hours in between had been perfect happiness, which worried him. Usually, he found himself wishing a lover gone once the interesting stuff was over. He’d never felt like that with Diana.

He forced his muzzy mind to follow what she said. “Pretenses how?”

She hesitated as if searching for words. “You pretend not to care about anything. You pretend so well that the world believes it.” She bit her lip and looked uncomfortable. “You’re far from the heartless, selfish rake I expected to seduce.”

This made no sense, the way so much between them made no sense. “Why would you want to seduce a heartless, selfish rake?”

Abruptly she straightened and retreated a shaky step. Her rosy color faded, leaving her ashen. Something that looked like fear flashed in her eyes. “Only a figure of speech.”

Every nerve tautened to alertness. She’d revealed something important. He just wished to Hades he knew what it was. “I don’t think so.”

She shrugged and laughed. Unfortunately for her, he knew the sound of her real laughter. This wouldn’t have convinced the biggest fool in England, and nobody had ever called him that.

“You make too much of this.” Her voice was pitched higher than normal.

With artificial insouciance, she faced the cheval mirror and began to pile her hair up. Her actions were no different than usual. Except this afternoon, her hands shook, and her reflection

revealed lips flattened with distress and eyes shining pewter with emotion.

He settled against the headboard with studied relaxation, even as his contentment evaporated, leaving a sick feeling in his gut. “Do I?”

“Yes.” Her hair refused to cooperate. Perhaps because her fingers were so unsteady. “What is wrong with me today?”

He wanted to know that himself but didn’t push it. He forced a lightness he didn’t feel, not when his belly clenched in suspicion. “You suffer a surfeit of passion.”

The tense line of her shoulders eased at his mocking answer. “That must be it,” she said with equal lightness, and her laugh didn’t sound so unnatural. She turned, having finally tamed her hair into an untidy chignon. “I must go.”

Did she indeed? Why?

His imagination ran amok as he rose and approached her. He stopped just behind her. She glanced up quickly, then as quickly looked away, blushing.

He brushed away the strands that escaped her disheveled hair and pressed a kiss to her sweetly scented nape. He breathed deeply. Her essence was strong here. The scent of heaven. The scent of Diana.

Tags: Anna Campbell Historical
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