From behind her delicate porcelain cup, she muttered, “Not particularly.” She took a sip of her tea and made a face. She’d let the tea steep far too long, and it was dreadfully bitter.
He laughed. “Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. I’m to leave the day after tomorrow for San Francisco.”
Lexie blanched, putting her cup down far harder than she intended to, and it clanked loudly against the table, tea sloshing onto the saucer and spilling onto the tablecloth. She flinched, grabbed several squares of linen, and tried to mop up the liquid. The way things were going, she’d be lucky if she didn’t set something on fire. Worried she’d fractured his delicate porcelain cup, she picked it up and examined it. At least this gave her something to look at other than Nicholas’s face.
“So soon?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Indeed.”
“When will you be back?”
He shrugged. “Depends. A month. Maybe two.”
“So long?”
His lips curved into a self-satisfied smile. “I guess I should be flattered you sound so disappointed.” Her heart sank as Nicholas picked up his cup and took a sip. He blinked once, then again, set the cup down, and poured in some milk and put in several lumps of sugar.
“I’m not disappointed,” Lexie said, blushing furiously not only at her clumsiness and their conversation, but also at the fact that she had managed to ruin tea, of all things. Who ruined tea, anyway? “I just...It’s just...”
He cocked his head to the side and studied her. “Just what?” he asked, picking up his cup and setting it back down without taking a single sip. She didn’t blame him. When she remained silent, he prompted, “Just what?”
She sighed, warring with herself over whether to keep her heart safe and maintain her dignity or tell him how she felt and go ahead with her plan. In truth, when she had decided to seduce Nicholas, she had thought he would make it easy on her, that he would take the lead and do the work for her. All she would have to do was acquiesce. Now, instead of the rake she knew him to be, he was being a perfect gentleman, and she would either have to tell him about her change of heart or let him go. Neither option appealed to her.
But she was no weak-willed ninny. She had always been a strong woman with a strong mind, though, she thought ruefully, one wouldn’t know it from her present predicament. She was better than this. Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she said, “Well, it seems I would miss you if you left.”
“It seems you would miss me?” he asked with a laugh. “Is this your way of saying you actually would miss me, Miss Markland?”
Oh, he was making this hard for her, and enjoying it, too, judging from the look in his eyes. He moved his chair closer to hers, the familiar roguish gleam back in his eyes. Try as he might, the scoundrel in him wouldn’t be suppressed for too long, and she had to smile at it. “It seems I am,” she replied, keeping her gaze steady as she ignored the pounding of her heart and the heat rising to her face.
“Well, Miss Markland, when you have a change of heart, you really have a change of heart, don’t you?” he asked with a low, rumbling chuckle. He moved his chair closer to hers, so close the sturdy cloth of his day jacket brushed against the skin of her arm. She swallowed against the dryness of her throat. To combat it, she reached for her teacup and saw her hands were shaking. She dropped them back into her lap.
Taking one of her hands in his, he gently stroked the palm of her hand with his thumb. It felt intimate somehow, as if he cared for her, and she let herself get swept into the fantasy of this beautiful, remarkable man falling madly in love with her. Swallowing hard, she said, “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Wetherby.”
“Nicholas,” he corrected, his thumb continuing its exploration of her palm, tracing lazy circles. “Now you’re being coy, Lexie. It doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m not being coy,” she protested, taking a deep breath to calm her raging heart. “I just can’t think when you’re doing that.”
“Doing what?” he asked, his face a mask of innocence.
She gave a snort of laughter—hardly ladylike, she had to admit to herself. “Now who’s being coy?”
He laughed. “Not I,” he responded, running his fingertips up her arm to her sleeve.
Her heart raced, her skin tingled beneath his fingers, her stomach somersaulted, her entire being singing with awareness of Nicholas’s touch. A simple touch, nothing that hadn’t happened to her before, but nothing she had ever experienced prepared her for it. When he touched her, she felt like the only woman in the world, some rare prize he couldn’t get enough of. He’d done this kind of thing before, and she wondered how often it worked, because, beneath his gaze and his touch, she felt positively treasured. For so long, she had been a commodity, to be bought and sold at a moment’s notice, and while Nicholas had surely paid for her, when she was with him, she never felt like another acquisition. She felt like a woman, and she loved Nicholas for that.
Turning in her seat, she looked up at his handsome face, her eyes fixing on the sensual curves of his lips, wanting them on her skin again, admitting she wanted them on her breasts even now. Raising her eyes to his, she nervously licked her lips.
And was instantly aware when his gaze dropped to her mouth, his face tensing. When he lifted his gaze back to her eyes, she did it again. “Lexie, you do that again and I might think you are trying to seduce me,” he said with a laugh.
So she did it again.
“You are tormenting me,” he groaned, leaning down to kiss her.
She had been prepared for his kiss and for the rush of passion it always evoked. But even knowing this, her heart hammered in her chest, butterflies took to wing in her stomach, and her lower belly clenched. Her skin, where she touched him, tingled so intensely she burned. He cupped her face in his hands, encouraging her to open her mouth. As his tongue coupled with hers, desire sparked a fire in her blood that in seconds became a wildfire, burning out of control. His kiss was passion, and lust, and so damn intoxicating her head spun. He was so different from her: his skin was not like hers, it was tanned and roughened; his arms were strong and hard and roped with muscle. He approached the world in a manner completely different from the way she did. He’d never be caught in a situation like hers. She was astonished he would want someone like her.
When he broke the kiss, she opened her eyes to find him gazing at her intently. “I wonder, Miss Markland, what game you’re playing,” he said.
She leaned into him and kissed him, taking his lower lip between her teeth. Heart pounding in her chest, she said, “No games. I’m trying to seduce you, Mr. Wetherby.” She squared her shoulders, defiant and unashamed.
He gave a wry breath of laughter, as if he didn’t believe her. “Really.”
Looking him straight in the eye, she notched her chin and said evenly, “Yes.”
He gaped at her, and a crease formed between his brows. “You’re seducing me?”
“Well, trying to,” she stammered, her face flaming, and she wondered about the wisdom of attempting this. She was an idiot, a fool. Why she would entertain the idea that she could seduce a man like him was beyond her. She had no experience with such matters. Before she had come into Nicholas’s household, she had never even had occasion to flirt with a man, let alone tempt one. Sudden tears pricked her eyes and she moved her chair away from him.
The humor disappeared from his eyes, replaced by something blatantly more carnal. The corner of his lips lifted into a smile of pure male satisfaction. “Well, that does change things a bit, doesn’t it?”
Her heart fluttered so rapidly she thought she might faint, and she fought to catch her breath, but she could no more control that than she could stop blushing. Dropping her eyes to the tabletop, she said, “I suppose it does, Mr. Wetherby.” With shaking hands, she picked up her cup and took a sip, trying to hide her trembling lips. She didn’t even flinch at the bitterness. She wouldn’t let him see the havoc he wreaked on her emotions.
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He took the cup from her clenched fist. “You don’t need to pretend it’s drinkable,” he said with a smile, placing the cup on the table.
“It really is quite awful isn’t it?” she asked, her mouth twisting into a disappointed frown. “I’ve made a muck of things today, haven’t I?”
He graced her with a gentle smile. “No, Lex, you haven’t,” he said softly, taking her hands in his. “Why don’t you come with me?”
“What? Where?”
The gentle stroke of his thumb against the delicate skin of her wrist distracted her, and the way he looked at her, his face serious, set her blood on fire. “Come with me to San Francisco.”
Her breath caught in her throat, her heart slamming against her ribs with such force she worried they might break. Since meeting him, her body had been out of her control. She had so little control over her response to him, over the way her breathing quickened whenever he touched her or the way lust uncoiled in her belly when he kissed her.
Breathless, she asked, “As what? Your servant?”
The desire in his eyes dissipated, and his gaze was cool as he regarded her. She had pricked his pride. “I had not intended to take my staff with me to San Francisco,” he responded. Then the chill melted and he said, “No, Lexie, come with me as my friend.”
Was she able to do that? Was she brave enough to pack her bags and go with him? She had been prepared to allow herself to be seduced, but was she so bold as to go away with him? Was she tough enough to not only allow herself be seduced, but to be an active participant in her own seduction?
Of course she was. Buchanan was here, in Sacramento. She’d leave her father and her fiancé behind and go with Nicholas and just be with him for however long they had. Once they returned to Sacramento, she would ask to be released from her contract with him and they would part ways. She knew he would release her, and would do so now if she asked.
But there was another complication: could she do this to her heart? Would it not be easier, in the long run, to part ways now?
“Nicholas...” she said weakly.
“Say yes, Lexie. Just say yes. No more of this staying in the servants’ quarters, no more games. Say yes and come with me.”
“I...” she faltered, stalling for time. Her heart leapt at the notion of running away with him, while her logical mind reasoned she should be running away from him. Her honor was not the only thing at stake. Her heart clenched as she thought of her father, a man she loved as much as she despised everything he had become. “Where would I be staying?”
He continued to stroke her hand, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her wrist, and she was unable to focus on anything else. “I’d been planning on staying in a hotel, but I’ll rent us a house.” His gaze intense, he said, “I would do nothing to jeopardize your reputation, and I won’t ask you for anything you aren’t prepared to give me. You’ll have your own room, your own space.”
His thoughtfulness did something funny to her heart, and she had the strangest inclination to weep. Nicholas was full of firsts for her: he inflamed her, he vexed her, he wanted her, and he cared for her.
The thought took her breath away. Nicholas could have any woman he wanted, and yet he wanted her. If she meant nothing to him, he wouldn’t go to such lengths. He would have simply gone ahead with his original plan and stayed in a hotel. Being honest with herself, she would have been willing to stay with him even then, and taken her place as his companion, his lover.
Taking a breath, she made the decision that would change her life forever. “All right.”
The smile he gave her could have lit the heavens. Leaning in, he gave her a gentle kiss on the mouth, his lips pressed lightly against hers, a kiss so tender and filled with longing her heart ached. What on Earth had she just done? Would she be able to let him go when the time came?
She supposed it didn’t matter: she wasn’t certain she could let him go now. Though she would be forced to leave him eventually, her heart would never be the same now that Nicholas had laid claim to it.
He gave her a gentle pat on the knee. Standing up, he said seriously, “Like I said, we’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow.” His gaze swept over her, a smile quirking those sensuous lips. “I suspect you will need to pack. Do you need to stop by your father’s house and gather some additional items?”
She closed her eyes against the idea. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
He knelt down in front of her chair, his eyes meeting hers. “I would accompany you, if you wish.”
The smile rose unbidden to her lips. “No. I don’t need anything else. I brought everything I had with me.”
“Really?”
Her lips tightened against sudden shame. “Mr. Wetherby. Not everyone is made of money. I assumed you understood that, given my present living situation,” she said stiffly. She neither needed nor wanted his pity, and she wasn’t in this for the money.
He cupped her face in his large hands, and the intimacy in his touch startled her. “I meant no insult,” he said softly, the remorse evident in his voice, and her heart melted. “We’ll bring the gowns I bought for you earlier, and have arrangements made for more once we’re in San Francisco.”
The thought concerned her. “What do you think we’ll be doing, Nicholas? I’m fine with the dresses I have.”
“Not where I plan on taking you,” he said with a smile. “You’re coming with me as my friend and my companion. I’ve got business to attend to in San Francisco, and I hope you will allow me to escort you to a variety of business functions. You’ll need to dress accordingly.” As he walked to the door, he said, “We’ll make it work, don’t worry.” He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over her appreciatively. “Since my plans have changed, if you’ll excuse me, I need to change my living arrangements. Good day, Alexandra.”
She watched as he walked away from her and covered his mane of tawny blond hair with a top hat. “Goodbye, Nicholas,” she whispered.
If she had known that the next time she said those same words her heart would lay splintered on the floor, she never would have gotten on that train.
Chapter 11
Until the day they climbed aboard the train bound for San Francisco, Nicholas hadn’t seen her for more than a few minutes at a time, and a part of him was relieved.
He had never wanted anyone with the intensity he wanted Lexie. From the moment he learned she wasn’t impervious to his charms, when he discovered she was open to being seduced, it was all he could do to stop himself from scooping her up in his arms, taking her to his room, and having his way with her. But she needed to do this her way, and giving her space to come to terms with the change in their relationship seemed important to her and, in a way, it was important to him, too. He needed her to understand just what such a change would mean for her, for him, and their future.
The idea made him nervous. From the first time he had kissed her, he knew one touch, one taste, would never be enough, not where Lexie was concerned. A future with a woman—any woman, even one as perfect as Lexie—was out of the question. He charmed women, he seduced them, but love them? That kind of happiness wasn’t in the cards for him. He’d never wanted it, and once he did, he harbored little hope of finding it.
Not for the first time since they had made their arrangement, he cursed Lady Luck. He wanted Lexie with a desire painful in its intensity. That she wanted him in return had been a stroke of good fortune unlike any other. If he had been planning on staying in Sacramento for the summer, he would have jumped at the opportunity, but that wasn’t the case.
Taking her to San Francisco had never been part of the plan. He hadn’t been back since the death of his brother, and hadn’t wanted to. For almost a year, he had avoided it. He had hoped to handle all business from Sacramento, but James had impressed upon him that he was needed in San Francisco, and he couldn’t shirk his duties any longer. James planned to return to the Orient and attend to the business partnerships they had formed and to foster allian
ces with new trading companies as well as determining the safest shipping lanes for their ships. Lately, pirates had been attacking his company’s ships in the Straits of Malacca, and James intended to meet with captains in the various navies patrolling the waters in order to determine which passages to avoid and which ones were the safest. But first, they needed to make the necessary arrangements, determine which contracts to pursue, both here and abroad, and foster relationships with powerful men both in the major ports of the west and in the Orient. Their operation had grown to such a size no single individual would be able to manage the entire business on his own, not even someone as capable as James's brother-in-law.
Nicholas needed to once again establish a presence inside the company.
He should have sold his partnership in the company when he had the chance.
When he’d left San Francisco, intent on never returning, he had sold everything he owned. Originally, he had planned to stay in a hotel near the wharf, well away from his old neighborhood or his brother’s house. But with Lexie joining him, a hotel simply wasn’t an option. He could hardly hope to spare her reputation—and still seduce her the way he intended—if they stayed in such a public venue.
God, he hated San Francisco. Now, unable to drown his ghosts, unable to bury them in reckless living and casual affairs, he was forced to face them with the last person he wanted to share them.
He sighed, raked his hair with his hands, and glanced over at Lexie, who sat ramrod straight across from him in their private car. When his eyes met hers, she said, “You’ve been quiet all day.”
He wasn’t sure if he heard quiet reproach in her words, but he took in her posture, the way she twisted her hands in her lap, and her face, filled with concern. He shook his head and gave her what he hoped was a jovial smile. Holding his hand out to her, he said, “I’m sorry, love. I’m just distracted.”
She studied him, her beautiful mouth twisting into a small frown of concern or disbelief. “Business?” she asked.
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