“What can I do?” he asked softly, his callused fingertips drifting over her palm, sending heated frissons across her skin. “It pains me that my presence distresses you so, but I cannot stay away, Pel. Do not ask me to.”
“And if I did?”
“I could not oblige you.”
“Even after tonight’s amusements?”
His fingers stilled, and then he gave a low chuckle. “I should be a good husband, and set your mind at ease, but I have just enough of the rapscallion left in me to want you to suffer a bit, just as I will be suffering.”
“Men who look like you never suffer, Gray,” she retorted with a snort, turning her head to meet his gaze.
“There are men who look like me? How disheartening.”
“See how our relationship alters when you change your role from friend to husband?” she complained. “Lies, evasions, things left unsaid. Why do you want us to live in that manner?”
Gray ran a hand through his hair, and groaned.
“Can you answer me that, Gray? Please help me to understand why you wish to ruin our friendship.”
His eyes met hers, filled with the bleakness she had felt around him yesterday. Her heart swelled with emotion at the sight. “God, Pel.” He set his cheek against her thigh, his dark hair dampening the satin. “I don’t know how to discuss this, and not sound maudlin.”
“Try.”
He stared at her for a long time, his long eyelashes shielding his thoughts and casting shadows upon his cheekbones. The fingers that stroked her palm stopped, and entwined with hers. The simple intimacy was like a physical blow. For a moment, she found it difficult to breathe.
“After Emily died, I despised myself, Isabel. You’ve no notion of how I wronged her-so many ways, so many times. What a waste it was for a woman like her to perish due to a man like me. It took me a long while to accept the self-loathing, and realize that while I could not change the past, I could honor her by changing who I was in the future.”
She tightened her grip on his hand, and he squeezed back. It was then she felt the unrelenting curve of a ring on his finger. Grayson had never worn his wedding band before. That he wore it now gave her a jolt that made her shiver violently.
He nuzzled his face against her, making her gasp at the resulting flare of longing. Misunderstanding her distress, he said, “This is dreadful. I apologize.”
“No…Continue. Please. I want to know everything.”
“It is a miserable task attempting to change one’s character,” he said finally. “I think whole years passed without finding anything worth smiling about. Until you walked into the study yesterday. Then, in that one moment, I saw you and felt a spark.” He lifted their joined hands, and kissed her knuckles. “Then later, in this room, I smiled. And it felt good, Pel. That spark turned into something else, something I have not felt in years.”
“Hunger,” she breathed, her eyes riveted to his impassioned face. She knew the feeling, because it gnawed at her now.
“And desire, and
“Gray…”
His head turned, his hot, open mouth pressing against her upper thigh, burning through the pink satin of her robe and night rail. She tensed all over, her spine arching gently in a silent plea for more.
Tormented, Isabel pushed his head away. “After you have slaked that hunger, what happens to us then? We could not go back to what we had before.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you never found that you can no longer eat a food you used to crave? Once hunger is appeased, the dish you gorged on becomes unappetizing.” She sat up, and slipped past him. Rising to her feet, she began to pace, as was her wont when agitated. “We would be truly estranged then. I would most likely choose a different property in which to reside. Social events where we meet would become uncomfortable.”
He rose to his feet, and followed her with his gaze. A gaze that was tactile in its intensity. “You see your former lovers every day. They are sociable with you, and you with them. What makes me different?”
“I do not look at them over coffee in the morning. I do not rely on them to settle my accounts, and see to my welfare. They do not wear my ring!” She paused, and closed her eyes, shaking her head at the foolishness of her errant mouth.
“Isabel,” he began softly.
She held up her hand, and stared at the portrait on the wall. A golden god stared back at her, forever arrested in his prime. “We will find you a paramour. Sex is sex, and another woman would be far less messy.”
Her husband moved with such grace, she failed to hear him approach. Gray’s encircling arms came as a surprise-one banding her waist, the other crossing her torso so a large hand could cup her breast possessively. She cried out as her feet left the floor, and he buried his face in her neck. The feel of his body was so hot and hard behind her, filled with strength, yet tender in its clasp.
“I do not require your assistance to find sex. I require
Isabel burned at the feel of his erection, and then melted in his embrace when he ground it against her in near desperation. “No.”
“But I can be gentle, Pel. I can love you well.” His grip lightened, his fingertips softly teasing her nipple. She writhed in his arms, the ache between her legs nearly unbearable.
“No…” she moaned, wanting him with every breath in her body.
“See your ring on my finger,” he growled, obviously frustrated. “Know that I am yours. That I am different from the others.” Gray licked the shell of her ear, and then bit the lobe. “Want me, damn you. The way I want you.”
Grayson set her aside with a curse, and left the room, leaving Isabel to the warring halves within her-the part of her that knew an affair with Gray could not last, and the part of her that did not care if it didn’t.
Chapter 5
Gerard stood in his parlor, and silently cursed the crowd that gathered there. The daylight hours were his time to spend with Pel and work on building their rapport. Tonight, he knew she would venture out and dazzle the peerage with her charm and beauty. Isabel was a social creature who enjoyed time spent in the company of others, and until he had acceptable garments he could not escort her. So he had determined to make the most of the time he was afforded, perhaps take her on a picnic. But then the callers had begun to arrive. Now their home swarmed with curious visitors who wanted to see both him, and the state of his scandalous marriage.
Resigned, he watched his wife pour tea for the women around her. Isabel sat in the middle of the settee, surrounded by blondes and brunettes who paled in comparison, her auburn hair striking and distinguishing. She wore a high-waisted gown of cream-colored silk, a shade uniquely suited to her pale skin and radiant tresses. In his parlor, which was decorated in striped blue damask, she was in her element, and he knew that despite the reasons why they had married, Pel had been an excellent choice as a bride. She was charming and gracious. He could find her easily, simply by following the sounds of laughter. People were happy in her presence.
As if she felt the weight of his regard, Isabel lifted her gaze and caught his eye. A soft pink flush swept up her chest to color her cheeks. He winked at her and smiled, just to watch her blush deepen.
How had it ever escaped his notice how she stood apart from all other women?
He could not help but note it now. Simply being in the same room with her made his blood thrum in his veins, a feeling he had once thought to never feel again. Isabel had attempted to keep her distance by moving from room to room, but he followed her, needing the flare of awareness he felt only in proximity to her.
“She is lovely, is she not?”
Gerard turned to the woman at his side. “Indeed, Your Grace.” A smile curved his mouth at the sight of Pel’s
