Secrets by Brenda Joyce

Author:Brenda Joyce
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 1993-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

He didn’t come. He wasn’t going to come. Regina knew that now.

It was almost midnight. Regina had been waiting for him since supper had ended three hours ago. She wore the thin ivory silk nightgown that he had been so fascinated with the one time he had seen her in it, when he had entered her room to wake her up. High-necked and long-sleeved, the fabric was nevertheless so fine that it skimmed every curve of her body. It was scandalous, but she wore nothing beneath it at all. The silk was unbearably exquisite upon her body.

She had bathed, perfumed herself, and spent an inordinate amount of time on her long, honey-blonde hair. She had carefully arranged herself in the bed, the sheets around her waist, her position enticing, alluring. But he hadn’t come and by now she knew that he wasn’t coming at all.

She was upset.

He had married her for her money and he had been open about it. Yet Regina had expected him to be a husband to her in every sense of the word. Had she been a fool? She could not help thinking that he hadn’t wanted a wife, he had only wanted an heiress. It was she, Regina, who had wanted a husband—who had wanted Slade as her husband.

Regina slid her bare feet to the floor, tears of hurt and anger filling her eyes. Tonight she had left one of her bedroom doors invitingly open and she looked outside. There was no fog. The sky was ink-blue, lit brilliantly by an incandescent full moon. Her gaze lowered. In his room across the courtyard the lights were on.

He was also awake.

In an instant she made a decision, one she dared not dwell on. She hurled herself from the room. A quick glance around showed her that the rest of the house was cloaked in darkness. As she passed the fountain, her steps slowed.

He had both doors fully open, the screens closed. Regina’s heart began to pound too fast and too hard. Her chest felt heavy. The night was cool, but she was too warm, even in her thin nightgown. What she was doing was unbelievably daring, unbelievably aggressive. Most ladies would be thankful to be spared their husbands’ attentions. Regina almost paused. She had never acted so impulsively before, or so decisively. Yet she could not stop, not even to wonder at herself. Regina moved into the full glow of the room’s lights. She gazed through the screen doors.

About to knock, her hand froze. Her heart slammed. Slade was sitting up in his bed wearing only a pair of short summer drawers. There was a glass of brandy on the table by his bedside, the same table that held the small lamp he had left on. He wasn’t reading or smoking or doing anything that she could discern. He was just sitting there, awake and alone.

She trembled. As far as she was concerned, he was naked. She should not look, but she could no more look away than will her heart to cease beating so madly.

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