Red Roses Mean Love

moment with a steady expression that made him feel as if his skin was suddenly too small.

He cleared his throat. 'Are you finished?'

She nodded and his gaze dropped to her mouth. She really had the most luscious mouth he'd ever seen. Those full, pouty lips seemed to beckon him, and he imagined himself leaning forward, covering her mouth with his own, touching his tongue to hers. His thoughts were interrupted when he felt her palm touch his now smooth cheek.

'You're extremely handsome,' she whispered. Her fingertips glided gently over his face, like those of a blind person memorizing each feature.

Stephen watched her, entranced. Many women had complimented his looks in the past, but he always brushed off their flattery, knowing it was simply a way to attempt to wrap him around their feminine fingers. Or get something from him. Every touch he'd ever received from a female was practiced and calculated.

Until now.

He knew without a doubt that Hayley wasn't behaving flirtatiously. She had a look of near reverence in her gaze that humbled him. Her touch was sweet, gentle, and unpracticed. He'd noticed how generous she was with touching. The loving way she ruffled the boys' hair even as she scolded them. And the gentle way she brushed Callie's curls back from her forehead. He knew how to react to a sexual caress, but he found her innocent touch decidedly unsettling. She couldn't possibly know what it was doing to him.

Or could she?

Stephen's eyes narrowed. Perhaps Miss Hayley Albright wasn't as innocent as she seemed. Could any woman truly be so totally without guile? Stephen's experience told him such a thing was doubtful.

He broke the spell between them by sitting up and running his hands over his smooth face. 'You find my face appealing?'

'Oh yes, Mr. Barrettson. I believe you're quite the handsomest man I've ever seen.' A blush accompanied the smile tilting the corners of her mouth. 'But I'm sure many people have told you that.'

Stephen's eyes bored into hers, looking for the familiar signs of female deception. He found none. 'Several, I suppose, but I never believed them.'

'I always try to be truthful.'

'Then you're the first person I've ever met who does.'

'How sad for you, Mr. Barrettson. My parents taught us that honesty is extremely important… perhaps the most important quality a person can possess.'

'Indeed? My parents, my father in particular, taught me to trust no one.' A bitter edge crept into his voice. 'And I cannot recall the word honesty ever passing his or my mother's lips.'

Her eyes softened with obvious sympathy. She perched herself on the edge of his chair and touched his hand. 'I'm so sorry. But surely you can see that you do trust people. Your parents' unkind teachings could not overshadow your better nature.'

He attempted to hide the sardonic twist pulling at his lips. 'How on earth did you arrive at that conclusion?'

'You trust your friend Mr. Mallory. And you trust me.'

'I do?'

'Of course.' A teasing gleam lit her eyes. 'If you didn't trust me, would you have allowed me to hold a razor to your throat?'

How had she managed to turn a serious conversation into lighthearted banter? 'That wasn't trust-it was desperation. Those whiskers itched like the devil.' Stephen frowned as he spoke, but he was having a difficult time keeping a straight face.

She planted her hands on her hips and raised her brows. 'So, you're saying you do not trust me?'

Stephen thought about teasing her, but he suddenly realized that in spite of her jesting tone, he detected a serious note in her voice. Did he trust her? Hell no! He didn't trust anyone. Well, except perhaps Justin. And Victoria. But Hayley? Why, he hardly knew her!

He opened his mouth, but immediately snapped his lips back together. She had saved his life. She had no idea who he was-she thought him a mere tutor without wealth or connections. She had no reason to help him other than the kindness and goodness of her heart. Certainly she did not stand to gain anything for herself. What was the word for such a person? He racked his brain and finally came up with the unfamiliar word he sought.

Unselfish.

She was unselfish. And trustworthy.

For the first time in his life, someone other than Justin or Victoria-and a woman in particular-was treating him with sincerity, warmth, and kindness, and expected nothing in return. Something that had never happened to Stephen Alexander Barrett, eighth Marquess of Glenfield. But it has happened to Stephen Barrettson, tutor. The realization hit Stephen like a bolt of lightning, rendering him speechless. How extraordinary that a commoner would have something a marquess didn't.

'Please forgive me, Mr. Barrettson,' she said, her quiet voice breaking into his reverie. 'I was only teasing, but I've clearly made you uncomfortable with my question.' She raised serious round eyes to his. 'I'm sorry.'

'On the contrary, Miss Albright. It is I who should apologize. You've shown me nothing but the utmost kindness. You are obviously most trustworthy.'

He could not help but notice the pleasure that washed over her face at his words. Another blush bloomed on her cheeks.

'Well, now that that is settled,' she said with a nervous-sounding laugh, 'I must take my leave. I have quite a number of chores to attend to before the children return.'

'Of course. Thank you again for shaving me. I feel almost human.' He ran his palms over his smooth cheeks. 'And it appears I'm not bleeding and my ears are quite intact and still attached.'

She flashed him a grin. 'As promised.' She turned and headed toward the door.

'Miss Albright?'

Hayley paused in the doorway and turned. 'Yes?'

Stephen wasn't sure why he'd called her. 'I, er, I will see you at dinner,' he said, feeling foolish.

A dimpled smile lit her face. 'Yes, Mr. Barrettson. At six o'clock. I suggest you rest until then.' She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Damn it all, he couldn't wait until six o'clock.

SHAPE * MERGEFORMAT

Chapter 8

After Hayley left him, Stephen tried to rest, but his mind was too full, his thoughts too active for him to doze off. He attempted to formulate a plan to trap his assassin, but the task proved impossible. His mind was occupied by something else.

Miss Hayley Albright.

Much to his annoyance, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. She was attractive, but he knew many women who were far more beautiful.

And it definitely wasn't her madcap household that drew him. Their behavior stopped just short of appalling, but it certainly would not be in his best interests to point that out to his hostess.

Restless, annoyed, and thoroughly out of sorts, he paced around the room. What the hell was it about her that stirred him so? He irritably recalled how the mere feel of her breasts brushing his arm had made his loins throb to life. He paused, trying to remember the last time he'd had a woman. With an exclamation of disgust, he realized he had last visited his mistress nearly three weeks ago. It was highly unusual for him to abstain for such an extended period. No wonder his body had reacted to Hayley. It was starved for release. The sooner he got back to London and his mistress, the better.

Physical release. Yes, that was all he needed. An extended sexual romp.

Yet even with images of lovemaking swirling in his mind, Stephen could not conjure up his petite blonde