Deborah Simmons - Tempting Kate by Tempting Kate

Author:Tempting Kate [Kate, Tempting]
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-12-24T00:08:04.575000+00:00

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Chapter Eleven

Gray was disappointed. He was not sure what he had expected from Kate at the news of her sister's nuptials, but not this calm acceptance. Hell, he received more admiration from his political opponents! Even the most dim-witted of them could not deny his intelligence, his negotiating skills and his expert juggling of finances. And rarely did his efforts touch their personal lives. Yet he had just found a husband for Lucy, salvaging both her reputation and her romantic notions of love, and what thanks did he get?

Although Gray kept his face carefully composed, he felt the slow burn of annoyance. He did not want Kate to fall at his feet, prostrate with gratitude, but, at the very least, she could pretend to be impressed by his clever deductions. He had come to respect her opinion. It mattered to him, in some inexplicable way, yet she had remained silent and sullen through supper, giving him only a brief nod of acknowledgment, as if to say, "Fine work, my lord. Now be off with you."

Gray's nostrils flared at the thought. Oh, no, his little poppet would not be rid of him so easily, whether she willed it or not. His irritation grew. It was one thing for him to consider leaving, quite another for her to push him away. Gray was unaccustomed to such behavior, and rebellion surged through him in a most startling fashion. He had always taken what he wanted. He was Wroth, and none dared gainsay him.

The doubts that had plagued him for the past few days disappeared in a rush of covetousness. He wanted this woman, not only physically, but to share with him her thoughts, her laughter, her passion, never retreating. It was a hunger, surprising in its intensity, and when he saw her turn to go, Gray was seized by the unheard-of desire to throw her over his shoulder like some primitive and carry her off to his hut. Or at least his hunting box.

"My lord, if I could have a word with you?"

Tom's voice broke through the uncivilized urges that had overtaken his thoughts. Blowing out a slow breath, Gray turned his attention to the coachman, who was eyeing him with a thoughtful expression.

"What?" Gray asked.

"A walk in the garden, if you would?" Gray's mouth tightened. The last person he wanted to stroll around the grounds with was Tom. Normally, he would think the feeling mutual, so the coachman's unusually friendly behavior roused all his senses to alertness. Now that he had outlived his usefulness, did Tom plan to waylay him? Hardly. He doubted that even Kate would be able to get the best of him again. Still, he flexed his arm to test the strength of his bad shoulder and, with a swift nod to Tom, strode toward the doors. It would not hurt to stay awake on every suit, and although he did not expect another bullet, Gray believed in being prepared for any eventuality.

The evening was warm and delicious, the air heavy with scents, the sky brimming with stars.

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