Chapter Twenty-Four
Grace paused by the window that looked over the rear garden and lowered Claude to the ground. “Be a good boy,” she ordered.
She opened the door swiftly and shut it behind her before the cat could follow. Claude had settled in once he had been offered some cold slices of meat and a comfy spot by the fire, but he would still try to escape if he could.
She did not much blame him.
Being in the same house as these three men was an odd experience. She’d never been privy to so much masculinity. They all stalked around as though danger was around the corner, despite the fact they constantly reassured her there was no danger of her being found here. Russell and Guy were what she considered brooding types. Guy, in particular, was not prone to smiling and though Russell had a more relaxed manner to him, she was never certain how to engage him.
She would be glad when it was over.
Except she wouldn’t.
It seemed mightily unfair she would have to return to a normal life after this. How could she read and play cards with her aunt and adopt more stray cats when she had been through so much with him? It hardly seemed fair that life should throw all of this at her then expect her to hide away and live a humble, dull life.
She wrinkled her nose. How much had changed in such a short time. Her previous ambitions no longer filled her with anticipation.
She strode up the garden path to where Nash was standing. His shoulders were silhouetted against the afternoon sun, making her itch to spread her palms over them and press herself against his back in an attempt to absorb whatever he could offer her.
She had concluded there was no understanding why there was a pull between them, one that was certainly about more than procreation, and for once, she had stopped trying to understand. All she wanted from Nash was to feel. No more thinking or even overthinking. Just feeling.
But he’d left her after that kiss, that moment. A kiss that still made her toes curl. A kiss she was certain he’d felt to his very bones, just like her. Yet he had been able to leave her as though it was nothing. And then she had not seen him until now.
She needed answers.
He turned when she was nearly upon him. His jaw tensed. “Grace.”
Lord, just him saying her name made her blood run hot. She wanted to hear him say it more except she wanted him to utter the word against her bare skin.
“What are you doing?”
He glanced at his feet. “Keeping watch.”
“But I’m not in danger.”
“No, you are not,” he confirmed. “But it does not hurt to be cautious.”
“I suppose not.” She laced her fingers together. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“You should go inside.” He nodded toward the door. “It’s getting cold.”
“Are you avoiding me?”
“Grace, I’m keeping watch,” he said, turning back to look out over the valley rising up away from the building.
She moved around to stand in front of him and folded her arms. “I’m not leaving until we talk.”
“Go inside,” he said tightly.
“No.”
He shook his head. “Why do women have to be so stubborn?”
“Probably because we are fed up with being told what to do.”
“All I’m asking is that you go inside.”
“And avoid talking, of course. Such a masculine thing to do.” She pursed her lips. “You know there is research to suggest a man’s inclination to wish to remain silent can do quite a lot of damage to their brain function.”
“Of course there is.” His lips tilted. “Very well, what did you wish to speak of?”
“Yesterday evening.”
He groaned. “Grace, there is nothing to say about it.”
“I think there is.”
“It was a very nice evening, is that what you were after?”
“It was,” she agreed. “So why did you run away from me?”
“I did not run away.”
“You certainly did. You nearly tripped over Claude in the process.”
His jaw tensed and she saw the muscles there work.
“Why did you run away?” she pressed.
“I did not run away,” he bit out. “I was simply trying to be a gentleman.”
She lifted a brow. “I think it is a bit late for that.”
“Don’t I know it,” he muttered.
“Pardon?”
“Damn it, Grace. I tried so hard to resist you but you’re impossible with your big eyes and even bigger brain and your little notes and the way you say whatever is on your mind.”
She blinked several times.
“I failed at being a gentleman once and I’m trying not to fail again.”
“What if I do not wish you to be a gentleman?”
He gave her a sad smile. “Grace, just go inside. I do not think these circumstances are right to discuss this.”
“I’ll be going home before long. Will we ever get to discuss this?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps not.”
Grace shook her head. “I never really understood why men make women angry, but I can see why now. We have the reputation for being the silly, stubborn sex, but it is men who are the ones who are mule-headed and foolish.”
“Grace—”
“You have made it clear now, that you desire me. That you like me, I think. You would not say such things about my person and how I behave if you did not like me, yet you are willing to deny us both something we need because of some notion that society has put upon us.”
“Damn it, Grace, that is not—”
She swiveled on her heel and marched back inside before he could finish his sentence. For the first time in her life, she was angry. It flowed through her, all hot and spiky.
She smiled to herself.
Oddly enough, she rather liked it.
She had spoken up for herself, for her sex, and this was about the strongest she had ever felt in her life.
FINGERS LACED BEHIND his head, Nash peered up at the bare ceiling above. There was nothing of interest apart from a cobweb that kept dancing in the draught that seeped in around the edge of the window. Unlike home, there was no cornicing or interesting wood canopies to study.
He damn well wished there was. Anything to distract him. A damned cobweb wasn’t going to do the job unfortunately.
Not when he knew Grace was in the bedroom next door and she was angry with him.
He’d never seen anything like it. She was damned impressive when angry. And not really wrong. The horse had bolted, and he was trying to close the gate. Doing a terrible job of it too. Making love to her then running away and trying to dismiss her. He was making one big, awful mess of this whole thing and he had no idea how to fix that.
He could confess to all his past for one. The thought made his blood run cold. She would most certainly be angry at him for that. Then he could confess to Guy all that had occurred between them.
Easier said than done. Guy wasn’t known for being the understanding, calm sort. The Kidnap Club would be over for him.
He blew out a breath. It had to happen, he supposed. Tomorrow he’d tell Guy he’d messed up and he understood if he wanted nothing more to do with him. Then he’d tell Grace that he had also messed up his past—that he really wasn’t a gentleman. That he was no better than her greedy uncle, taking all he could and throwing it away on cards and caring little for the impact his greed had.
Lord, how bloody awful that all sounded. Yet it was the right thing to do. Come clean about everything and take it all on the chin. No more hiding from his past and pretending he had been the one wronged and no hiding from his current mistakes either.
Not that he could think of Grace as a mistake. Without her, he’d be walking around like a damned fool still, blaming his father for his own failings.
A floorboard outside squeaked. He froze, forcing his breaths to become shallow.
It couldn’t be her. She was still ang
ry with him.
He didn’t want it to be either. Then he’d have to tell her everything sooner. And yet again try to resist her. It was too damned exhausting not being near her and taking her into his arms.
Light, padding footsteps went past his door then stopped. It couldn’t be Russell or Guy. Far too delicate. It had to be her.
God, he wanted it to be.
The footsteps padded past again then light slipped under the crack of the door. He pushed himself up in bed. He didn’t want her here.
But he did.
Every muscle, every fiber of him needed it to be her.
The door eased open and warm candlelight filled the room. He held his breath as Grace slipped in and eased the door shut behind her. “Are you alone?” she whispered.
He nodded, his tongue thick, his throat refusing to work. She’d come to him, despite his behavior, and he couldn’t be more damned grateful.
“Were you sleeping?”
He shook his head.
She moved slowly over to his bed like some ethereal creature, her footsteps hardly making a sound. The scent of soap followed her, and he longed to reach out for her, but he was frozen. Every breath he took hurt and he knew that wouldn’t cease until she was in his arms. Lowering the candle onto the table at the side of the bed, she came to stand beside the bed, her hands twined together in front of her. The warm light drew his attention to her wide eyes, her soft cheeks, her delicate mouth, and the fragileness of her frame.
Yet there was nothing fragile about her tonight. She exuded strength and confidence with her lifted chin and determined stance. He imagined she might even be able to take the truth about his past.
“We do not need to make love if you do not wish.”
He offered out a hand and she slipped her fingers into his. Then he lifted back the blankets and she slid in beside him. His voice refused so work still. No charming words of apology or even confessions would escape him. She had him frozen with desire, paralyzed by his feelings for her. All he could do was slip an arm around her and draw her to him.
“I just needed to feel your touch,” she confessed.
It was all sorts of wrong. He should send her away. Tell her he couldn’t break his promise to Guy again. Or own up to his past and see if she still wanted him after that.
He didn’t have the strength that she did to be so courageous. She made him so weak with need that all he could do was move to press her down into the bed and stare at her for a few heartbeats before bringing his mouth to hers. She moaned against his lips and he tasted her deeply, feeling the pain in his chest and muscles ease, every inch of him softening now that he had what he craved.
Nash was condemning himself and he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nash glanced at Guy’s expression as he stepped into the kitchen and his blood turned cold. “What is it?” he demanded. “What’s happened? Is Grace safe?” He turned on his heel.
Russell grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt, forcing him to face both men.
Guy folded his arms and Nash tugged away from Russell’s hold. “What’s going on?” He recognized the steely look on Guy’s face and it never meant anything good.
“I saw her last night,” Guy said, after several beats of silence.
Nash stilled. “Saw what exactly?” he forced himself to ask lightly.
They exchanged a look and Guy pushed away from where he was leaning against the table. “Damn it, Nash, have you really been bedding her?”
He let his shoulders drop. He could lie. Maybe Guy even wanted him to. But of all the things he’d been, a liar wasn’t one of them. He nodded slowly.
“God damn it,” Guy muttered. He shoved both hands through his hair. “You were meant to protect her, not bloody ruin her.”
“I do know that, Guy,” Nash said tightly. He sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t want this to happen, didn’t mean for it to, but asking him to stay away from Grace was like asking him not to take his next painful breath.
It was impossible.
“Told you he liked her.” Russell gnawed on the end of a thumb.
Guy shook his head. “I figured you cared for her, but I didn’t realize you’d go this far. I should have known bringing you on board was a mistake.”
Nash straightened. “It wasn’t. I’ve always done my job and done it well. Those women wanted for nothing and I might not have felt for them like I do Grace, but I would have done whatever was necessary to keep them safe.”
“It’s true,” Russell said. “He always did a fine job with the women—especially those who wouldn’t stop weeping. Lord knows I wouldn’t have known what to do with them.”
“I had one rule, Nash.” Guy held up a finger. “One bloody rule.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Nash bit out. “I tried my damnedest but Grace...she’s different. She got under my skin, made me question everything.”
“Made you question your vows?” Guy gave him a look. “When I came to you, you were the one muttering about how your father betrayed you and you needed the coin.”
“I know.” Nash glanced at the floor.
There were no excuses. He’d gone back on a promise, something he said he would never do. Betraying Guy’s trust hurt—deeply—but he wasn’t certain he could have ever done anything differently. He needed Grace and she had woken him up. He felt like a man who’d been asleep for the past five years and she had opened his eyes to the world. Her kindness, her cleverness, her odd way of looking at things had taught him so much.
“I don’t know how we’re going to continue from here.” Guy pinched the bridge of his nose.
“It’s going to be bloody hard to trust you from now on.”
“To be fair to Nash, he’s never slipped up before,” Russell said.
Nash was grateful for Russell’s support, but he wasn’t certain he deserved it. He knew he was breaking his promise, but he couldn’t help himself.
“I should have known,” Guy muttered. “That’s what happens when you trust a gambler.”
Nash scowled. “Now wait a minute. I made a mistake, but I’ve always been loyal, and I haven’t touched a card in years.”
“I know.” Guy sighed. “I know, damn it, and we’ve been through a lot together. I considered you a friend even when you were in the thick of it and I consider you one now. But what sort of man would I be if I put people’s lives in your hands, knowing you might well have a fling with one of them?”
“It’s not a bloody fling!” Russell and Guy stared at him. He unfurled his hands and straightened. “It’s not a fling,” Nash repeated. “I love her.”
Russell lifted his brows. “You love her?”
He nodded.
“In truth?” Guy asked.
He nodded again. “Believe me, Guy, if I wanted to just bed someone, you think I’d be so foolish to do it in front of you? And let’s face it, she’s making a fool out of me for certain, and I can’t help but go along for the ride. I love her.”
He’d known it for a while perhaps. It had been eating away inside of him, killing him in this sweet, silent way. To say the words aloud and admit the truth felt like he’d lifted a mountain off his shoulders.
Russell’s lips quirked. “Never thought you had the ability to fall in love, Nash, but didn’t I say, Guy?” He turned to Guy. “I said there was something different about her.”
Guy leaned back against the kitchen table. “You love her?”
“Yes.”
He lifted his hands. “I suppose...this makes things different.”
“Even if they didn’t, I could not help how I feel,” Nash said firmly.
“What are you going to do about it?” Russell said.
Nash shrugged. “I’m still trying to figure that bit out.”
Russell folded his arms. “Does she love you?”
“It’s hard to say. Grace usually says what she is thinking so...”
“She hasn’t said she loves you?”
Russell leaned in. “That’s not good.”
“Besides which I haven’t told her about my past properly yet.”
Guy rubbed his jaw. “Most men have a past.”
“Not one riddled with debt and gambling and recklessness.”
Russell snorted. “That sounds like half the gentry.”
“It goes against everything she believes in,” Nash explained, “and I’ve been too cowardly to tell her I’ve been lying to her the whole time.”
“Well, I think you might have your chance.” Russell glanced behind him.
GRACE SWUNG HER gaze between all three men. She really needed to cease listening in on their conversations. They all shuffled their feet and stared at the ground or the ceiling or anywhere apart from her.
But if she had not come into the room, she would not have heard what Nash had said. She tilted her head. “You have been lying to me?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he glanced at the other men then stepped forward and took her arm. “Let us talk.”
She nodded, taking a deep, stifled breath. There was no sense in jumping to conclusions until she had all the facts laid out in front of her. It didn’t make her stomach tighten any less, however.
Nash led her into the parlor room, where a hearty fire roared, keeping the damp, dull day at bay. He shut the door behind them and strode over to the fire, giving it an aggressive prod with the poker before setting it back on its hook. Finally, he looked at her.
“I wanted to tell you many times.” He frowned and straightened. “It didn’t seem any great thing at first but as time went on, I realized I had been keeping it from you deliberately.”
“Keeping what from me?” She scowled and took a few paces forward. “Is this about my uncle? Or Worthington? Or about who betrayed us?” She closed her mouth and motioned for him to continue.
“You are safe,” he reminded her. “But there are some things you should know about me.”
Capturing the Bride (The Kidnap Club Book 1) Page 16