Chapter Three
He held back a satisfied smile as he watched the colour rise in her cheeks.
She wasn’t expecting his comment, although he had sensed she was aware of him on a level that surpassed friendship.
He just didn’t know how far that awareness extended.
Thus this convenient trip out of London, away from the scrutiny of others, and to a place where she could drop her worries about her scars and simply be herself.
Perry was nothing if not inventive, and he had every intention of snapping up this property, since a house out of town was becoming a necessity. The heat and stench of summer, the ever-increasing rumble of carriage traffic outside his residence in Mayfair—it was making his peaceful life more of a challenge and he found himself ready to explore the possibilities offered by a country home.
“You are being most ridiculous, Perry.” Grace turned to him with a tranquil smile. “But naturally I appreciate your gentlemanly charm.”
He blinked. “My what?”
“Your charm.” She moved to a chair, urged it a little nearer to the fire, then sat. “That wonderfully natural way you have of making sure everyone around you is comfortable.”
“Is that what you think it is?” He strode to the matching chair and sat, unsure of whether he was angry or amused. Whatever he was, he did not appreciate Grace’s nonchalance in the face of his statement.
“What else could it be?” Her grey eyes met his steadily.
“It might be just what I said, you know,” he kept his eyes on her. “I am attracted to you. You’re a beautiful woman, with a brain to match. I find much pleasure in your company.”
“As I do in yours, dear Perry.” She smiled and nodded. A Dowager Duchess of eighty summers would do no better.
His gaze drifted to her neck and the lace surrounding her gown. There was a flutter; her pulse, it would seem, was giving the lady away.
He smiled. “I’d take even more pleasure in your company if we were naked, dear Grace.”
Her jaw dropped and her simulated composure shattered. He could almost hear it.
“Uh…”
His smile broadened. “As I thought. You do share my interest.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand.
“Don’t even try. Your body betrays you. Your pulse is beating fast at the thought of us, skin to skin, perhaps…” he looked down, “well, not here in front of the fire, since that carpet is full of holes and the floor damned hard. But the couch…or even this chair.” He let his thighs part. “Can you imagine sitting here, on my lap?” He tapped one firm thigh. “Facing me, my sweet. Your legs straddling mine, your body flushed with desire, your bosom…” His gaze deliberately dropped to her breasts.
“Perry,” she gasped. “Stop this insanity at once.”
“Intriguing, isn’t it?” He grinned again, although it was becoming more difficult to maintain, since he had aroused himself with his own damn words.Hoist by my own petard, he thought ruefully.
She rose, flustered, her cheeks rosy, her hands twisting together as if she wasn’t sure where to put them. He rather hoped she might want to put them on him.
But alas, she turned once again to the window. “You mock me, sir.”
“I do not,” he replied most emphatically. “I would never,ever, mock a lady.”
As he stood, he saw her lift a hand and touch her face. Those damn scars. She could not understand that they did not define who she was, or what others thought of her.
Perry made it his mission to change her perspective.
He rose and crossed the room quickly, stepping behind her, touching her shoulders, and noting the slight tremor that traversed her body as he did so. “Grace. Stop worrying about things that don’t matter.” He lifted one hand and stroked her soft cheek, aware that she had leaned back toward him a little. It was a start.
“What really matters,” he continued, “is what’s in your heart. In your mind. What matters is the sort of woman you are—and what sort of man I am. We’re not children; neither of us needs to make decisions based on anything other than what we desire. We have families who are settled, and we’re not scratching empty pantries for food or selling off our ancestor’s jewellry to pay our debts.”
He waited for a response, letting his palm rest on the skin of her neck, gentling her.
