Deceive Not My Heart by Shirlee Busbee

Author:Shirlee Busbee
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2013-09-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Morgan was working in his office when Leonie finally found him. She was shy about entering what was predominantly masculine territory, and although she had been in the office once, when she had been shown over the grounds of Le Petit, until now there had been no reason to seek him out as he worked.

When Leonie knocked on the door, he was browsing through some account books Matthew had thought would bring him up to date with the affairs the sprawling estate. His mind had not been on the neat columns of figures and concise entries, though, and to glance up and find the object of his thoughts hesitantly pushing open the door in answer to his command to enter came as a distinct surprise.

For a long moment, they stared wordlessly at each other, Leonie very conscious of him as a man—a man who was her husband and a man who had awakened instincts and responses she had never dreamed she possessed. Her original reason for seeking him out had been straightforward, but now that she found herself alone with him, the impact of his blatant masculinity on her newly discovered senses left her curiously tongue-tied and self-conscious.

He was half-sitting, half-lounging on one edge of the big desk, his knee swinging carelessly over the corner while the other long leg was stretched out to the side propping him up. The account books were spread haphazardly at his side, and the one he had been perusing so indifferently rested lightly on the strong thigh of the leg that swung freely from the desk, the lean fingers that held it open appearing very dark against the pale gray binding.

He was dressed much more formally than Leonie had seen him lately, the dark blue coat fitting his broad shoulders expertly, the starched, elegantly arranged cravat of white linen contrasting pleasingly against both the jacket and the darkness of his face. Form-fitting nankeen pantaloons hugged his long, powerful legs, and gleaming, high-topped boots of dark brown Spanish leather were on his feet.

A tense little silence permeated the room as they stared at one another, and assailed by a foreign surge of cowardice, Leonie suddenly wished she had not sought him out in such an isolated, private place. It would have been better, she decided with belated hindsight, to have spoken with him in the company of somebody else or at least at the house where there were others nearby.

Now why that thought should have occurred to her, she didn't know, she only sensed that once again, Morgan had changed personalities on her. There was something about this man that disturbed her. He looked the same, but this morning there was a hardness in the sapphire blue eyes she hadn't seen lately and a forbidding grimness to the full, mobile mouth that she was certain hadn't been there yesterday. A flush crossed her face. No, definitely there had been nothing grim or forbidding about that mouth yesterday afternoon.

Morgan noted the flush and his eyes narrowed.

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