The Sins of Viscount Sutherland by Samantha James

Author:Samantha James
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2011-06-15T04:57:07.968000+00:00

One month later, Gray sat in the Duke of Braddock’s study. On the corner of the desk was a half-empty, finely etched crystal decanter.

Two lazy curls of smoke drifted to the ceiling. Gray had long ago tugged off his cravat. Both had just had several glasses of Irish whiskey.

Clive guided the rim of the decanter into both glasses. Leather creaked as he leaned back.

“Well, Gray, I do not envy you your predicament.”

Gray flicked the ash from his cigar. “An annulment is not an alternative.”

“No,” agreed his friend. “There’s no question about it.” Clive shook his head. “I still can’t believe this has happened.”

Gray’s mouth twisted. “I thought she was—how shall I say this?—quite experienced, given her marital status.” Well, that wasn’t quite true. A voice in his head intruded. You recall thinking she’d not been wed for long. The other voice argued, Who would have expected a widow to be a virgin?

“She deceived me, Clive. All that time she deceived me.”

“You killed her brother,” Clive pointed out.

“That wasn’t meant to happen. You were there, for pity’s sake.”

“Nonetheless, it did.” Clive studied him. “Have you told her that her brother was the first to fire?”

Self-loathing swelled. Claire had called him a murderer. And he was. He was all that and more. His hands were stained with blood.

Gray gave a tired shake of his head. “For what reason? Would that make it any easier for her? He’s dead. That doesn’t change what happened.”

“And it doesn’t change that she’s expecting your child, Gray. Man, whatever came over you?”

He grimaced. What, indeed. If he’d known she was a virgin, he wouldn’t have . . . He let loose a self-deprecating curse. Controlled himself? It was a lie. Even if he’d known, he wouldn’t have been able to stop. No power on earth could have stopped him.

His mouth tightened. He was a man of utmost discipline. Even in bed. He didn’t like being out of control.

He clenched his teeth. Out of control . . . That was how he’d felt with Claire in his arms. He’d been driven by the blood rushing hot and thick in his veins, desire scalding every part of him. Burned in his memory was the feel of her body beneath him—memories afresh—her belly rubbing against his as he plied her legs wider. He relived the mind-shattering instant he seated himself inside her—as far as he could go—the way her breath dammed in her throat. Christ, he could still feel her!

Clive leaned back in his chair. “You surprised me, Gray, when you said you took her to Brightwood instead of returning to London.”

“I won’t subject her to ridicule. For me, it doesn’t matter.”

“How long has it been since you had been at Brightwood?”

Pale blue eyes glinted. He didn’t appreciate the reminder. “Three years,” he said tersely. Three years since he’d vowed never to return—except in his coffin. “What can I say, except . . . things change.”

Clive watched him closely. “Yes. You can hide her away at Brightwood and resume your life here in London.

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