“Of course not,” she lied.
“Look at me.” He caught her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “I was right yesterday, though you attempted to brazen it out. You’re afraid, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be preposterous,” she snapped, irritated that he had chosen now of all times to become observant for the first time in their union. It was too late for him to be the husband she’d yearned for. Wasn’t it? Yes, of course it was.
“I don’t think I’m being preposterous,” he said slowly, his fingers still lingering on her face. His eyes searched hers. He leaned into her, bending his head so that she was certain he would kiss her. “Not at all.”
And then as if suddenly losing interest, he released her and stepped away, leaving Victoria bereft and disappointed on the path. Had she imagined the heat in his gaze, the suggestion in his touch? The cool man before her seemed very much at odds with the passionate rake who had yanked up her skirts and pleasured her against the wall of the music room.
“I understand you have taken our gardens here under your care,” he said, surprising her with his change of subject. “I must say, the transformations you’ve wrought are incredible.”
She hadn’t expected that he would care enough to ask the servants about her. She certainly hadn’t expected that he would praise her efforts. Warmth unfurled within her belly, in spite of herself. “Thank you.”
“I have it from the Head Gardener himself that you put an admirable amount of effort into restoring the grounds to their former splendor.” His back was to her as he sniffed a luscious red bloom. “I expect the gardens hadn’t been properly looked after since the times of the Tudors at least.”
He turned to face her once more, a teasing grin on his lips, a rose in his hand. She wondered how he’d picked it without being pricked by a thorn. But then, he was Pembroke, beautiful and sleek and rife with charm. If anyone could fall into a rosebush without getting a single scratch, it would be him.
“Not the Tudors, I’m sure,” she murmured, nervous to be at the center of his attention and compliments. Wasn’t this precisely what she’d sought to avoid?
“Perhaps I exaggerate.” He winked and closed the distance between them, holding the rose for her to smell.
She inhaled deeply of its glorious scent, never removing her gaze from his. “Roses possess the loveliest aroma, do you not think?”
“Not the loveliest.” His expression sobered. “I prefer your scent.”
Her heart took up a gallop. He had noticed her scent? Or was he merely continuing his aggressive campaign of wooing her? She decided to put him to the test. She was no longer as easily won as she once was. He’d seen to that himself.
“And what is my scent?”
“Orris root,” he answered without hesitation. He dragged the silken petals of the rose down her bare throat. “I never realized before just how desirable I find it.”
He’d known. She licked her suddenly dry lips. He was doing wicked things to her senses, making her want what she’d be better off not wanting. “Desirable?”
He nodded. “Almost as desirable as you.”
His mouth brushed hers ever so softly, his lower lip slipping between hers. Just a whisper of touch, and yet it held so much fiery promise. This was different than the kisses they’d shared before. This kiss gave more than it took.
He caught her full upper lip between his teeth. She sighed and the kiss deepened, his tongue slipping inside to tease hers. He smelled like rich shaving soap. She locked her arms around his neck, leaning into his hard frame. It didn’t seem fair that he could weaken her resolve with a few kind words and a kiss, but that didn’t make it any less true.
Pembroke tore his lips from hers. “I don’t want you to leave, Victoria,” he murmured.
“I didn’t want you to leave either,” she reminded him, her voice breathless. “But you did.”
“I’m here now.” He gave her another slow, maddening kiss, his tongue dipping into her mouth and then retreating when she longed for more. “Come, let’s go for a walk and enjoy the fruits of your labor.”
She accepted the arm he proffered, and they began a leisurely stroll. It occurred to her that he was leading her farther away from the main house, out of sight of prying eyes. Pembroke hadn’t walked with her like this since the days of their courtship, and it sent a wave of bittersweet nostalgia over her.
She cast him a sidelong glance. “I haven’t been on a stroll about the gardens with a man in quite some time.”
“I daresay.” He cleared his throat, looking pensive. “I must thank you for the work you’ve done here in my absence, Victoria. I understand you’ve done a great deal more than just oversee the gardens. I’m afraid I’ve often been remiss in all my duties, not just one.”
She had, and she was quite stunned he would even bother himself to find out what she’d done at Carrington House over the last few months. She nodded to stanch the flow of pleasure surging through her. He could tempt her with persuasive kisses and with flattery both, but five months of abandonment hardened a woman’s resolve as few other things could.
“Thank you, my lord. My mother saw to it that I had a fair head for running a smooth household. Keeping ledgers has always been an odd hobby of mine anyway.”
“Nevertheless, you needn’t have. I didn’t expect it of you.”
His gratitude left her bemused. She’d expected to encounter the brazen seducer or the arrogant lord. But he was ever a man of many faces. She didn’t know what to do with a Pembroke who wasn’t disappearing and causing scandal. A Pembroke who was admiring and appreciative. A Pembroke who somehow wanted to win her back. Heavens, was that even possible? She couldn’t think it. Wouldn’t think it. The warmth of the sun had invaded her mind.
