by Shayla Black
She looked up to find James standing before her. With a smile, he bowed over her hand.
With a cautious glance, Kira stared over his shoulder, relieved—and disappointed at once—to see that Gavin had not followed his cousin.
“Hello, Mr. Howland,” she greeted.
“It is good to see you.”
Kira saw right away that James meant the remark. She bowed to him as well. “It is good to see you. I fear I should go, however. Lady Westland tells me I’ve incited your cousin’s anger, and I’ve no wish—”
“You misunderstand. I have brought on his current temper.”
“You?” Kira shot a confused glance to her former fiancé.
“Indeed. When Lady Litchfield inquired about the ending of our recent engagement, I fear I said a few things that she misunderstood.”
She swallowed. James, though sweet, was often too naïve about how the ton would interpret such words, particularly Gavin’s fiancée. She must be very unhappy indeed.
“Is that so?”
James nodded, his soft face looking both frustrated and confounded. “I merely indicated that I knew your affection belonged to my cousin and that you had, at least at one time, hoped to wed him.”
And naturally, Lady Litchfield and the rest of the ton believed the worst of her and assumed she had pursued Gavin relentlessly, like a gold-digging whore. It was neither a flattering picture, nor an accurate one.
“I most humbly apologize,” he said into her silence. “I came to beg your forgiveness.”
“Mr. Howland, you could not have known everyone would twist your words about. There is nothing to forgive.”
“Well, perhaps I ought not have mentioned that I discovered the two of you kissing.” He grimaced.
This entire evening simply kept getting worse. Kira sighed. What else could happen now?
“It was simply a mistake,” James said.
Poor boy. He really had no clue how cruel people could be. He had honestly answered a lady’s question, with little notion his words would be maliciously misconstrued. And likely on purpose. She hardly blamed James. Besides, the ton’s opinion of her had never been sterling. What did it matter if they thought her a whore? There was really nothing new in that.
“I’m certain I shall survive,” she assured him. “Let us speak of something more amiable. Tell me of your plans now.”
He sent her a grateful smile. “I will go to Tunbridge Wells in two days to begin work at my new parish. I’m quite excited, as I recently received letters from several members of the community expressing their joy at my arrival. I think I shall truly be needed there.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“What will you do now?” he asked.
“Well—”
“Say nothing, Miss Melbourne, until you and I have had a chance to speak,” whispered a woman in her ear.
Kira turned to find Lady Litchfield hovering close behind, looking both regal and collected—even slightly haughty. Kira faced the woman who had spread lies about her tonight, but found she could scarcely look upon Gavin’s bride-to-be without her heart constricting in pain. While Kira no longer aspired to be the perfect English rose, Cordelia Darrow had everything else she wanted, the only thing she wanted—Gavin.
“I doubt we have anything to say, my lady.”
The cool blonde smiled. “Well, just as I can stir up a bit of gossip to incite hesitant suitors, I can also change or stop it for the benefit of their brides with a simply placed word or two.”
Frowning, Kira stared at her rival. What did the woman mean? “It is admirable that you would want to stop such gossip for your—” she swallowed, forcing herself to say the word— “your fiancé’s sake, I doubt any particular concern for me would motivate you to—”
“You are correct. I hope to change the gossip for Gavin’s benefit and to compel him to act.” Then she whispered, “But he is no longer my fiancé.”
No longer… Shock blasted Kira. Lady Litchfield’s words washed over her again and again until she wondered if she’d heard them correctly at all. Another glance at the stately blonde told Kira nothing. The woman’s face conveyed only amusement. Still, Kira felt certain she had misheard Lady Litchfield. Gavin had, by his own admission, planned to marry her for some years.
“But… He said—”
“Whatever he said was foolish. Gavin came to me a week past and, by mutual agreement, we ended our engagement.”
Still stunned, Kira could do nothing but stare and blink. Thoughts whirled in her head faster than a cyclone. Gavin was no longer engaged? Why had he not wed Lady Litchfield? And if he was no longer honor bound to wed the lady, why hadn’t he come to her?
He had. More than once, in fact. Kira had turned him away every time.
Excitement and hope fluttered in her stomach. Was it possible? Perhaps, but she had no facts. Still hope rushed in, suddenly impossible to suppress. Had Gavin merely come to apologize or chat about the weather or… something more? Who knew? Kira mustn’t assume that because Gavin no longer planned to marry Lady Litchfield that he intended to take her as his bride instead. She mustn’t assume that he loved her.
“In fact,” Lady Litchfield drawled. “I decided that I did not wish to marry a man whose affections were engaged elsewhere.”
At the woman’s words, Kira’s heart leapt into her throat. Gavin felt an attachment to her; Kira was nearly certain of it. But he would not allow himself to wed her, not while he believed in the Daggett curse. “I think you misunderstand.”
She shrugged. “I doubt it. Gavin thought of me as a friend, not a romantic interest. In fact, he could not even bring himself to kiss me. I daresay, the same is not true for you. In fact,” she smiled, “the manner in which he is looking at you even now tells me he is very intent on you.”
Looking at her now? Kira whisked her gaze over her shoulder to follow the path of Lady Litchfield’s stare across the room.
Gavin stood not ten feet away, his dark eyes singularly focused on her. Intent described his stare well. It contained heat and purpose. She could not decipher the cause of his expression. Anger? Desire? Kira’s heart beat wildly.
He began to walk toward her in slow, measured steps. As if he were Moses, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. Around them, the party had become eerily quiet. Everyone stopped to watch the unfolding spectacle, and Kira drew in a ragged breath. Would Gavin disregard her in public, God forbid? Or had he merely paused to greet her? What was the purpose apparent on his face?
Kira felt faint. She did not care for everyone else’s opinion anymore. But Gavin… As foolish as it was, she still wanted his good opinion—and his love—more than anything else in the world.
And at this moment, she had little hope that she would ever have it.
* * * *
Gavin walked toward Kira. He forced himself to do it slowly, despite the fact he wanted to charge at her like a bull. But her expression was that of a skittish horse ready to bolt.
One foot in front of the other, he told himself. Slow. Cautious. She stood still and watched his approach with wide blue eyes, gloved hands clasped tightly in front of her.
Behind Kira, Cordelia stood smiling, as if she had a secret. Later—much later—he’d have to discern what it might be.
At the moment, he hovered between fury and anticipation. He’d arrived at the party, anxious as hell to find Kira, apologize, talk to her. Minutes before Kira’s arrival, Brock and Maddie told him all about the ugly gossip swirling through the room. Everyone assumed that she’d used James to ingrain herself into a duke’s life, that she had plied her womanly wiles on him in a scheme to become the next duchess. They gave her no credit for having a heart, for possessing honor or loyalty, for understanding the treasure of the love between them.
Indeed, the ton assumed she was an ambitious money-hungry tramp—and a foreign one at that. Gavin knew well that Kira had been listening to these slurs in some form or fashion all her life.
Tonight that would st
op. He no longer gave a damn how badly he had to scandalize his name to do it.
Gavin reached Kira finally, stopping a handful of feet from her. He could see the pulse pound in her throat. The next breath he drew was tinged with the scents of moonlight and vanilla. Damn it, that quickly he ached to hold her again.
“Miss Melbourne,” he greeted, reaching for her.
Kira extended her gloved hand to him. He noticed then that she shook.
“Your grace.” She bowed.
He performed a similar gesture. When she tried to extract her hand from his, he held it tightly and drew her closer. All around him, people began to murmur.
“I have come to apologize,” he said loudly.
Gavin wanted the entire room to hear this—every last word.
Kira flushed furiously. “Th—that is not necessary.”
“Oh, I disagree.” He smiled. “I’ve heard any number of misleading rumors about you tonight, and I feel it is my duty to apologize to you and set them straight.”
She looked furiously at their audience. “But…but I—”
“Contrary to popular opinion, you were most eager to wed my fine cousin when we first met. In fact, shortly after James introduced us, you did your very best to avoid me. Is that not so?”
Kira looked around the room, her anxious gaze traveling from whispering matrons to curious bucks. “You disliked me.”
“That is where you are wrong.”
Gavin squeezed her hand, then released it. He came closer, circling behind her. She cast him an apprehensive glance over her shoulder. When their gazes met, Kira quickly looked away. But he knew he had her attention.
“I did not dislike you,” he corrected her. “I wanted you.”
Around them, women gasped. Fans fluttered faster. Men peered at the tableau with interest. Gavin pressed on, striding in front of her once more.
“In fact, I did not merely want you; I wanted you all to myself.”
A ruckus to his left dragged Gavin’s gaze from Kira. Darius burst through the crowd a moment later, wearing a snarl.
“I warned you to leave my sister alone. Damn you! I doubt you have any honor at all, but if you do, follow me outside so I can beat you again.”
Another chorus of gasps echoed through the room. Gavin repressed a smile.
“I have been chasing your sister for quite some time.”
Darius leaned aggressively close, fists clenched. “And using every underhanded method possible to take her. I’ll not have you drag her name—”
“Shut up for ten minutes. Then I will happily oblige you, if you wish. And this time, I’ll fight back.”
More gasps met his words. The crowd inched closer, collective breath held as they awaited Darius’s response.
To their shock, the hero of the evening backed away with a cautious nod.
“What is going on?” Kira questioned, her gaze zinging back and forth between the two men, her face a mask of confusion.
Darius did not turn to face his sister. Instead, he murmured, “Proceed.”
Gavin acknowledged him with a bow of his head.
Then he zipped his gaze to Kira again, who had turned nearly pale as a ghost.
“I pursued you, Miss Melbourne, with the single-minded intent to separate you from my cousin.”
She looked around at the crowd, her indigo eyes distressed, clearly wondering why he sought to tell everyone about their relationship. Soon, he hoped his intent would be clear.
“I know,” she whispered.
He smiled. “And I pursued you relentlessly until I wooed you away from my own cousin, did I not?”
At that, more gasps ensued, followed by a quiet rush of chatter.
Nodding, Kira peered at him in confusion. Could the girl not guess what he was about? Or, after the hell he had put her through, was she simply too afraid to have hope?
The thought humbled Gavin, filled him with shame. “I pursued you until I outran you. I tried every devious trick in creation to win you. I made the foolish assumption that a woman of Persian descent would be an easy mark for a practiced seduction.”
Kira clapped a hand over her trembling mouth. She looked near tears. “You’re a cad!”
“I am,” he agreed. “For a long time, I didn’t know if it was your English blood that cleverly discovered me a wolf in sheep’s clothing and your Persian nature that allowed you to give your heart so wholly. I wondered if, perhaps, it was the reverse.”
“What does it matter? You’ve made your contempt perfectly clear in the past.”
With her shaky words, Kira turned and darted toward the crowd. Gavin lunged forward and took her by the arm. He pulled her closer, thrilled by her scent, her very nearness.
“I disagree, for I recently discovered I had been wrong. It was not your English side that was clever or your Persian side that was passionate. It was simply you.”
“Oh, Gavin…” She bit her lip, uncertainty finally mingling with hope. “Do you mean…?”
He merely smiled. Love; he saw it in the sparkle of her eyes. And it gave him the courage to go on, even when he knew she had every right to refuse him.
“The day we met, James said he hoped very much I would come to love you. And I do, Kira Melbourne, I swear. With every single beat of my heart.”
She gasped along with the crowd. Shock tumbled across her face. She blinked once, twice. Then her eyes filled with tears.
“But—but you…” She swallowed. “You said—”
He lay a finger across her lips, aching to put his mouth there instead. “I have something very particular to ask you now.”
Gavin didn’t think it was possible, but her eyes widened further.
Then at her feet, he knelt, with her brother, his family—and the rest of the ton as witness.
He wanted Kira, forever. Damn the consequences. He might lead them both to scandal, his family might abhor them, the ton might shun the two of them. As long as this empty abyss in his chest that gaped open at the thought of Kira leaving forever would no longer plague him, he would take any risk.
A tremulous smile lit up her face as one silvery tear slid down her cheek, followed by another. Lord, she was the most beautiful woman, both inside and out, he had ever known. She stunned him with her love, her giving nature, her seeming fragility coupled with her incredible strength. Kira was like no other woman.
“Would you do me the very great honor, Miss Melbourne, of becoming my wife?”
She stood silent so long that Gavin began to worry. With her heart in her eyes, she stared at him, tears chasing one another down her face. He feared he had put Kira through too much, worried she would refuse him. And he likely deserved it.
Around him, the crowd was hushed, waiting, waiting… Gavin heard his heart pounding against his chest. Beads of sweat broke out across his back.
Please God, let her accept.
“Kira?” he whispered softly.
With a sob, she threw herself toward him. Gavin barely stood in time to wrap his arms around her. He held her close, reveling in the feel of her, knowing that with one word from her, he could do this every day for the rest of his life.
Lord, let her say that one word.
“Does this mean yes?” he asked.
Again she sobbed. But this time she nodded, too.
“Yes.” She hugged him tightly. “Yes!”
Someone clapped. Gavin looked up to find Brock Taylor slowly putting his hands together. He cast a loving gaze at his wife, who soon followed suit. Nearby, James, Aunt Caroline, Darius, and even Cordelia all joined. Within moments, the entire room clapped, and the hearty sound swallowed his fears for their future.
“They approve,” he whispered. “Even if they didn’t, I would not care. I love you. I put you through so much before I realized that, and I’m terribly sorry. Please forgive me.”
“What about the Daggett curse?”
He shook his head. “There is no such thing. I see that now. The way I want you is motivated only by l
ove. So if you say that you love me too, we can be married tomorrow so I might prove to you again how much.”
“Gavin!” She flushed.
His face turned serious. “Do you? Love me, I mean?”
She nodded. “With my Persian half, my English half… Every bit of me belongs to you.”
“I cannot think of anything else that makes me happier,” he murmured.
Then he claimed her mouth in a kiss ripe with the promise of the future, laced with the everlasting love in his heart. And she met him, measure for measure, in every way his equal—and the woman of his dreams.
Shayla Black (aka Shelley Bradley) is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of sizzling contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances in print, electronic, and audio formats. Her books have also been translated into nearly a dozen languages. A writing risk-taker, Shayla enjoys tackling new writing challenges with every book. In her “spare” time, she lives in Texas with her husband, munchkin, and one very spoiled cat. She enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.
Shayla has won or placed in over a dozen writing contests, including Passionate Ink's Passionate Plume, The Holt Medallion, Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence, and the National Reader's Choice Awards. Romantic Times has awarded her Top Picks, a KISS Hero Award, and a nomination for Best Erotic Romance.
A writing risk-taker, Shayla enjoys tackling writing challenges with every book.
Connect with me online:
Shayla Black:
Website: www.shaylablack.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/ShaylaBlackAuthor
Twitter: www.twitter.com/@shayla_black
Smashwords: www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ShaylaBlack
Also from Shayla Black/Shelley Bradley:
EROTIC ROMANCE
The Wicked Lovers
Wicked Ties
Decadent
Delicious
Surrender To Me
Belong To Me
“Wicked to Love” (e-novella)
Mine To Hold
Coming Soon:
“Wicked All The Way” (e-novella)
Ours To Love