The Rake's Enticing Proposal by Lara Temple

Author:Lara Temple
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2019-04-08T18:46:12+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Ellie slowed outside the door of the yellow salon—the voices were low but recognisable and Ellie smiled. She could not hear what was being said, but it was clear Henry and Dru were, for once, in accord. She gave a little sigh and moved on towards the small drawing room, hoping her quarry had not yet retired for the night.

She eased open the drawing-room door and glanced inside. He was seated with his back to her, a glass of dark liquid in his hand, his boots stretched out to the fire. She sighed in relief even as her nerves leapt to attention. He turned and rose in a swift motion that reminded her again how different he was from the men she knew. For a moment she stood in silence, trying to read his expression, but the fire behind him cast him into shadow.

‘Miss Walsh. Did you forget another shawl?’

Ellie shook her head, closing the study door behind her.

‘No. I was curious. About Mr Ambleside. You brought him, didn’t you?’

‘I thought you would see through our little charade immediately.’

‘So who is he? A friend of yours? He was most convincing.’

His mouth softened at her enthusiasm.

‘I shall tell him so. He is my secretary, Mr Barker. I sent for him so we could discuss some business of mine and I thought he could be useful prodding some sense into Henry. It was far more effective than I imagined.’

‘It was. They are in the yellow salon even now. I tiptoed past.’

He swirled the contents of his glass and she waited for him to offer her some, but he just watched her.

‘It does not bother you?’

‘Of course not. I am happy for Henry. But what is truly fortuitous is that we might not have heard about the package the late Lord Huxley sent to Egypt with Mr Mallory if not for Mr Amb—Mr Barker’s questions. At least it solves the mystery of the missing notebooks.’

‘Does it?’

‘Well, only their possible whereabouts, not why he sent them or what he wished of you. What shall you do now?’

He indicated the armchair with the glass he held and she shivered at the memory of the other evening—his arms around her, his thighs firm and warm beneath hers.

‘Sit. Have some.’

She hesitated.

‘I don’t think...’

‘Good. Don’t. It is not whisky this time, but port. A rather gentler path to perdition.’

She sat, barely resisting the urge to burrow into the warmth left by his body. Time was slowly melting from the hourglass and she wanted to cherish every moment in his company.

‘Try it.’

He pulled a chair close to hers and held out the shimmering crystal. The thought of drinking again from the same glass his lips had touched sent a shiver through her, followed immediately by a wave of warmth, as if the spirits were already swirling through her.

Carefully she took it, touching her lips to the cool rim, allowing the scent to reach her first, full and earthy, making colours swirl in her mind. She tilted the cup

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