by Diana Palmer
“It would behoove us both to be.” He noticed, belatedly, the small glass in her hands. “Have I driven you to drink?” he asked, with sudden amusement.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied. “I thought…if it was strong enough to ease your pain, it might make me sleep.”
He smiled mockingly. “Unused as you are to it, you might not wake until noon.”
She smiled back, a little shyly. His eyes traced her long auburn hair over her shoulders. It reached to her waist, and it looked like silk in the light.
“I’ve never seen you with your hair down,” he remarked.
“I only loosen it to sleep,” she said. She touched a strand of it nervously.
“I’ve wondered how it would look hanging down your back like that.”
She dropped her eyes to the glass in her hand. “Was Miss Doyle very upset?”
“No.” He didn’t mention his treatment of her, which had caused her some difficulty. “Nevertheless, you should have been more circumspect with your remarks.”
“Yes.”
He stepped away from the door and moved closer. Her breath increased with each step, and when he was just in front of her, she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the opening of his robe. The garment was long enough to reach to his ankles, and she wondered recklessly if he wore anything beneath it. She didn’t dare ask. He was intimidating enough in the folds of the robe.
“Why did you insult her, Noelle?”
Her fingers had gone white gripping the shot glass. “She insulted me first. Besides, we’ve already agreed that I’m uncivilized. Jared, I must go upstairs now. This is—this is very unconventional.”
“You really are afraid of me, aren’t you?” he asked softly, reading her thoughts. “Don’t you know that I’d never hurt you, in any way?”
She lifted her eyes to his. “Of course I know it,” she said heavily. “But, Jared…”
“Were you jealous of Amanda Doyle?” he asked quietly.
Her indrawn breath was audible. “Why—what a question!”
“Do you know why I took her to the dance?”
“Of—of course,” she stammered. “To show me that I was of no consequence in your life.”
He nodded solemnly. “That was what I meant to do. It didn’t occur to me that she might attack you. It must have ruined the evening for you.”
“It didn’t matter. Those are hardly the sort of folk I’m used to,” she confessed. “Jared, is it really so bad that I wear overalls and dig in the garden?” she asked miserably, looking up into his eyes.
“Of course not,” he said. “I don’t mind wagging tongues any more than you do. But Andrew and my grandmother are more circumspect than we are, and it disturbs them. It’s best that you leave the gardening to Henry.”
She sighed. “Oh, very well. It’s just that I have so few pleasures.” She smiled with sad memories. “My mother always kept a kitchen garden and a rose garden. My earliest memories are of working in it with her. It brings me peace, because it’s like being with her again.”
“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. He touched her cheek lightly, reaching past it to grasp a strand of her hair and smooth it through his fingers. “Your hair feels like silk, Noelle. And you carry the scent of roses about your body.”
She felt her heartbeat increase and grow erratic. “I have a milled soap…that smells like roses.” He was too close. Her eyes glanced off his bare chest where the robe parted, flickering nervously up to his face.
He laughed shortly, without humor. One lean hand came up to take the shot glass out of her hand. He put it on the table beside them and caught her by the shoulders, gently pulling her to him.
“Jared, no,” she whispered, pushing at him. But her hand slipped into his robe, against the thick hair over his heart, and she froze in position.
His own breath caught. He grasped her hand and pushed it closer, holding it to his bare flesh, so that she could feel the thunder of his heart. He moved it down to the hard nipple and pressed her damp, warm palm to it; his heartbeat began to race.
“This is unwise,” she whispered shakily.
“Of course it is.” His own hand went to the soft collar of her robe, held precariously in place by her free hand. “Let go,” he said softly.
“Why?”
His mouth brushed over her eyelids. “So that I can do something ungentlemanly to you.”
She bit her lower lip, but his caressing fingers traced up and down her throat until they made her blood run hot. Inevitably, she released her stranglehold on the fabric; he smiled faintly at her temple as his hand went inside, underneath her gown, to the soft, rose-petal skin just above her collarbone, and began to trace it lightly.
She began to tremble then. His arm went around her, holding her upright. He drew her against him so that his arm supported her, and while he looked into her eyes, his fingers slowly moved down until they touched her naked breast.
She moaned in shock and anguish and pleasure. His warm, strong hand covered her firm breast completely. His thumb worked its way over the nipple and made it peak and ache. He caught his breath at the exquisite softness of her skin, at her headlong response. She slumped a little, and his arm contracted to hold her while his hand moved on her soft body.
And still his eyes looked into hers, held them, caressed them. But then he bent and kissed her eyelids until they closed. She shivered with each new caress, and she leaned against him helplessly as his mouth fitted itself slowly to hers and the magic worked a spell on her.
Her hand smoothed slowly over his chest, her fingers tangling in the thick hair, testing its wiriness, loving the hard, warm muscles under it.
He groaned suddenly and lifted his mouth from hers. His eyes fixed on hers; she saw him fight for the control he’d almost lost.
“What do you do to me?” he whispered half angrily. “I had no intention of…” He looked down at his hand inside her robe, inside her gown. He made a sound deep in his throat and suddenly pulled the fabric down, baring her taut breast to his eyes. He caught his breath, ignoring her frantic haste to cover herself.
He was paler, his face rigid, his eyes blazing with desire. He stared, entranced, at the perfect contours of the breast he’d revealed as she trembled. “My God,” he breathed huskily. “No!” he snapped when she tried to pull the edges together. He stayed her hand. “No. Let me look, Noelle,” he said roughly. He traced, softly, around the ruby red nipple, onto the milky white flesh with a tiny scattering of freckles. The nipple went erect. She gasped, and he laughed, deep in his throat.
“You mustn’t!” she choked, fighting him.
He let go of the gown and robe so that she could pull them back in place. She flushed, trembling.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed by this,” he said gently. “You’re lovely, Noelle—a sight to grace a man’s memory until he goes down into the dark.”
She stopped clawing at the gown and stared at him, transfixed.
“Can you bear so much honesty?” he asked quietly as he released her. “I find you exquisite. And it flatters me beyond bearing that you allowed me to touch you, to look at you, in such a way.”
She caught the robe tight. She should be embarrassed, ashamed, frightened, outraged. But she couldn’t focus on any one emotion.
He smiled, and it was the most tender smile she ever remembered seeing on his face. “Your skin is like milk,” he said gently. “But even your breasts are freckled, like your pretty nose.”
She flushed to her hairline. “I should never have permitted—” she began.
He put his forefinger to her lips, stilling them. “No one will ever know it happened, except the two of us, Noelle,” he promised quietly. “You should know by now that I keep secrets well.”
She felt a little more secure. He was hardly a goss
ip. But she was shy with him now, having given him a view of her body that no one else had ever had.
He reached for the shot of whiskey and handed it to her. “Let me see you drink it.”
She lifted it to her lips and threw her head back, downing it in one gulp. It made her deathly ill and started her coughing. She thought she would choke, and then her body felt as if it were on fire, starting with her throat.
He laughed deep in his own throat as he calmed her. Then the warmth raced through her veins and she felt hot, burning inside. She blinked, swaying a little, and took a deep breath.
“Shall I carry you upstairs?” he asked mockingly.
She found her voice, but with difficulty. “That would be interesting. We should both go pitching down headfirst, with your gimpy leg to hold us up.”
He grinned at the mischief in her face. “Possibly so.”
She put a hand to her mouth. “Forgive me. The alcohol has loosened my tongue beyond repair.”
“You speak as if I were a lifelong cripple. It’s a temporary injury,” he said lightly. “Didn’t you know?”
She shook her head.
“All the same, if I carried you into your bedroom, I might lose my head.”
“As you just did?” she asked demurely.
He smiled. “Noelle, what happened was very innocent, although you’re probably too green to realize it.” He leaned down. “And if you hope to remain that way, you’d better leave. Now.”
There was a sensual threat in his deep voice that made her legs move. She tugged the robe closer and looked back at him from the door, her eyes huge in her face.
“Did you touch her like that?” she asked abruptly.
He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have occurred to me to try,” he said, with genuine surprise. “I don’t feel that sort of attraction to her.”
She had to fight down a smile. “I see.” She averted her gaze.
“Do you?” He put his hands in the pockets of his robe. “I’m seventeen years your senior. It’s a great gap. And there are still too many secrets between us.”
Her eyes ran over him with new knowledge, new familiarity. He was devastating to her, handsome and virile and constantly surprising. “If you told me those secrets, there wouldn’t be any more to keep.”
He smiled. “You tempt me. But trust comes hard. It comes very hard.”
“A woman betrayed you, is that what happened?”
Her words brought back the pain and grief of the past; all the hunger she’d kindled was suddenly quelled. He walked to the door and opened it for her.
“You said that you’d always be honest with me,” she reminded him.
“As honest as I can be,” he said agreeably. He searched her wide eyes; his face softened magically. “Will you sleep now?”
“I’ll try.” She hesitated. “Does your leg hurt?”
He smiled dryly. “A little.”
“Whiskey kills pain and dulls the brain.”
“Is that why you let me touch you?” he teased softly. “Because of the whiskey?”
“Certainly.”
“Liar.” He made the word a caress.
She only smiled, making her way quickly to the staircase. Fortunately the rest of the household was asleep. She had enough on her conscience already without adding a new scandal to it. She didn’t dare look back. But she felt Jared’s eyes all the way to the top of the staircase, and when she lay down, she went to sleep at once…with tingling memories of his lean hands and his hard mouth.
But with the morning, instead of the sweet memories, regret hit her in the stomach. She woke with stark anguish as her behavior of the night before paraded itself in her sober mind.
Chapter Nine
NOELLE WASN’T CERTAIN that she could sit at the breakfast table with Jared without blushing. And he was there when she went downstairs, sitting lazily at the head of the table. He didn’t glower at her. In fact, his gaze was speculative and curious. She sat down uncomfortably, feeling naked and shy.
Andrew came in, talking to Mrs. Dunn. “Ah, there you are,” he said to Noelle, smiling rakishly. “Did you sleep well?”
“Very well,” she said, and didn’t dare look in Jared’s direction.
Andrew laughed deep in his throat, remembering the kisses he’d exchanged with her at the door. He looked at her with intimacy. And Jared saw it and felt his blood begin to rise.
Noelle glanced at Andrew and blushed, and that ignited something in Jared that he hadn’t felt since his youth.
Unaware of it, Noelle reached for a biscuit and smiled at Andrew. “Did you enjoy the rest of the dance?” she asked.
“I would have enjoyed it more had you remained,” he said gallantly. “You dance divinely, Noelle. Where did you learn?”
“Indeed,” Jared added as he spooned scrambled eggs onto his china plate, his pale eyes on the plate. “Where did you learn?”
“I was tutored,” Noelle said carefully. “By a relative,” she added quickly.
“He taught you very well,” Andrew said obliviously, and with a smile.
“He’s very experienced,” Noelle replied. She glanced angrily at Jared.
“A relative, you say?” Andrew said, thinking. “Do I know him?”
“No,” she said flatly. It was no lie. Andrew knew as little about Jared as most strangers.
“Well, you’re very light on your feet, and your gown was the envy of several young ladies,” he added, with a grimace. “If only Miss Doyle had not—”
Jared looked up. “Miss Doyle will not be mentioned,” he said firmly.
“She was very unkind to Noelle,” Andrew replied sadly. “She’s jealous of you, of course, even of a distant relation—”
“I said,” Jared repeated levelly, unblinking, “that we will not discuss her.”
Now the words were a threat. Andrew laughed nervously and buttered a biscuit. “If you please. Noelle, what did you think of the music?”
“It was very nice,” she replied. She ate a mouthful of egg, furious at Jared. How could he be so two-faced, she wondered angrily, as to hang on Miss Doyle and then come home and make passionate love to Noelle right in the living room!
“Noelle, you look disturbed,” Mrs. Dunn commented.
She looked up, red in the face. “Oh…I was merely thinking about…well…” She looked straight at Jared. “About gossip.”
“Hardly surprising,” Jared said, without hesitation. “Since you seem to have a penchant for attracting it.”
“I know someone else who does, too.”
His pale blue eyes narrowed. “You have no sense of propriety.”
“And you have no manners!”
“If I had them, madam, they would be wasted on a termagant like you!”
“How dare you call me names!”
His eyes were flashing like blue lightning, and her own were greener than bottle glass. She clutched her napkin angrily.
“Noelle!” Mrs. Dunn laughed nervously, looking from one to the other. “Jared! Please!”
He didn’t look away. Neither did Noelle. They glared at each other.
“The theater is tonight,” Andrew interrupted quickly. “Noelle, we should leave this afternoon by six o’clock. We can have dinner at Monaco’s.”
She had to drag her angry eyes away from Jared’s face. She looked at Andrew and smiled sweetly. “I should like that.”
“Have you another new dress to dazzle me with?” he teased.
“Oh, yes. A lovely green one,” she replied—and then remembered that Jared had paid for it and suffered twinges of guilt for her behavior. She hadn’t meant to trade insults with him so hotly that it drew attention to them. Amazing that only last night they had been nearly as close as lovers, and now they seeme
d to be bitter enemies without any visible cause.
Jared put down his napkin and got to his feet. He didn’t say a word, except to nod to his grandmother before he left the room. His half-eaten breakfast was still on his plate.
“Why are you and Jared so violent with each other?” Andrew asked.
“He doesn’t like me,” she muttered. “He thinks that I’m too outrageous.”
“That isn’t true,” Mrs. Dunn said gently. “Noelle, he’s very fond of you. Not that it was very evident just now…”
“It was my fault, and I apologize,” Andrew said gallantly. “I should never have said that about Amanda Doyle.” He chuckled. “Perhaps Jared is in a bad mood because Miss Doyle didn’t kiss him good night. She’s very circumspect, and her parents are quite protective, they say, although they seem to approve of Jared.”
Jared was courting the woman? Noelle’s heart felt leaden. Well, what had she expected? But it seemed so horrible for Jared to court Miss Doyle and make love to Noelle behind her back.
“You will enjoy this comedy at the theater,” Andrew assured Noelle. “We’ll forget the unpleasantness of this morning.”
“Of course we shall,” she agreed.
* * *
BUT IT PLAYED on her mind all day. She hated being at loggerheads with Jared, who had been kinder to her than anyone. But she didn’t know how to apologize. She didn’t even know who started it. Jared was unhappy with her, and she didn’t know why.
She played with the kitten in the kitchen and looked out the back window at the garden. Henry was pottering among the vegetables, but without any care for the small seedlings. It was like letting an ax murderer loose among them. She glowered at him. If only she didn’t have to be decorous! In some ways, it was better when she was living in poverty in Galveston. At least there, nosy neighbors didn’t watch her every move with malice.
Mrs. Hardy was on her back porch, watering her leafy plants. The woman had nothing that flowered, and Noelle thought wickedly that they probably shriveled from the woman’s malignant presence. She probably curdled milk, too.
“Oh, I am wicked,” she told the kitten, and went back to dragging the string for him.