Proof By Seduction by Courtney Milan

Author:Courtney Milan [Milan, Courtney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-08-16T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

JENNY KEEBLE.

Gareth held on to the promise of her name all through the oppressing drive back to the more fashionable Mayfair. Ned sat sullenly on the seat across from him, arms folded.

Gareth repeated her name in his mind when his cousin left the carriage with a wordless nod. And when he sent his driver home, alone, to warm stables, he whispered the syllables in staccato counterpoint to the rhythm of his stride.

Jenny. Jenny.

In these dark hours after midnight, the streets lapsed into a silvery silence. The coppery light of gas trickled through London’s dense fog. As he approached her door for the third time that evening, the swirling mist roiled down the steps that led to basement rooms. The dense vapor stifled the sound of his shoes into muffled clops as he descended the stairs.

He knocked.

The mist swallowed the sullen squeak of hinges. Flat orange illumination from the streetlamps dribbled through the crack of the door as it opened. The edges of the light gilded her features into an unforgiving mask. She appeared to be a goddess cast from bronze, a statue draped in white muslin and black shadow. Gareth sucked in a lungful of cold fog.

She swallowed and looked up into his eyes. “You’re here.”

Gareth’s tongue seemed dry in his mouth. “Well, Jenny.” His voice creaked out, thick and husky. It was the first time he’d spoken her real name aloud.

For moments neither moved. Then she curled her fingers about his elbow and drew him into the dark cavern of her room. Her fingertips rested on his arm as the door swung shut behind him. Slowly, he brought his hand up to her face. He could feel the tension in the solid set of her jawbone. He traced the line of her chin, found her mouth with his thumb.

He’d wanted once to conquer her. Now he had. He’d won everything. Her admission of fraud; Ned’s surrender. She’d even given him her respect. This should have been his moment. Rationality had triumphed over illogic.

But his fingers found the secret, sad downward curve of her lips in the darkness. No wet tracks down her cheeks. Just a stubborn, sorrowful desperation as she yielded to his touch.

Gareth hadn’t wanted vindication after all. He’d wanted her.

“Don’t stop.” Her hand covered his. She pressed his palm into the warmth of her face. Her fingers trembled.

Gareth would shake his head over this inconvenient decision the next morning, but—“You’re not under any obligation because I won our little wager.” He couldn’t resist tracing her lips again.

She stilled under his caress. “You won?” His palm swayed gently side to side as she shook her head. “No. You lost. Ned lost. You were correct, but that isn’t winning.”

Her other hand came between them to rest against his coat. But instead of pushing him away, she leaned into him.

Unbidden, his hand found the dark silk of her hair. “Why, then, if not obligation?”

“I lost, too.”

The truth seared into him. In the darkness of the night, they could pretend they had not stolen victory from each other.

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