She often worked in the garden alongside the gardener. Not quite the same things Alex seemed to do but, all the same, she enjoyed getting her hands dirty. Something she had often been reprimanded for.
Daphne had not met anyone from the upperclass who did not turn their noses up at the mere mention of physical labor. Even Lady Chesterfield had cautioned her to refrain from, as she liked to call it, playing in the garden during the house party. She was always quite vocal about her dislike of Daphne's gardening and maintained her stance that it was most unbecoming of a lady.
Alex strolled beside Daphne as he spoke. "I often work alongside my tenants repairing their cottages, digging irrigation trenches, planting or harvesting crops. Repairing fences seems a never-ending task, and then there are disputes to hear and settle as well as working on my estate books. Even in London, I usually have some sort of estate business to manage along with my house there." He grinned. "Of course, I find an ample amount of time for pleasure as well." He punctuated his words with a devilish wink.
She could well imagine what pleasure he referred to. Her cheeks warmed once more, her belly tightening. She averted her gaze to the fountain they were approaching, choosing to ignore his inappropriate comment.
She paused in front of the intricately carved marble fountain, her eyes drinking in the sight of its delicate curlicues and thick clusters of roses. She inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of the fountain as it mingled with the perfume of blooming jasmine. The sound of water flowing over rock had an ethereal beauty that made her sigh with appreciation. "Lord Chesterfield commissioned the fountain for his wife and presented it to her on their wedding day." Daphne pointed at a spot near the top where to roses were carved in an interlocking pattern. "See there," she said, "He had it inscribed with their names and wedding date."
Alex stepped closer to the immense fountain, his gaze following its lines. His hands were clasped behind his back as he admired the intricately carved stone and tiles that decorated the basin in dazzling detail. He turned to her, green eyes sparkling with expectant curiosity. “What do you see when you look at it?” he asked.
She arched a brow in confusion. "A fountain, of course. Or more specifically, vines and roses wound together to form a heart over a pool of water."
“Humm…” He turned his attention back to the fountain.
Curiosity brought her closer to his side. “What do you see?”
He trailed his fingers over the fountains carved vines, small and twining as they arched toward each other. As they reached the apex of their embrace, one pulled away and formed a perfect heart. "I see lovers. The vines are tangled together like two people swept away with passion. When they separate to form the heart they are reaching toward the top where they find their mutual release," He said, his voice low and melodic. He turned his head toward her, his eyes burning with passion. "I could showed you. Demonstrate my meaning."
Daphne notched her chin, fighting the images forming in her mind. Pushing back against the desire his words elicited deep within her. Anger bubbled up in her, anger at herself. Anger at him. How dare he say such outlandish things to her? The man had no scruples - no boundaries. “I should like to return to the party,” she said.
“You are forgetting something?” Alex stepped closer until they were only a breath apart, his voice low and velvety, each word dripping with confidence.
Daphne took an involuntary step back, her chest tightening as she processed his question. “Am I.” She narrowed her gaze.
“Did you wish to kiss me in front of the guests?” he asked.
How could she have forgotten the wager. The kiss? She nervously licked her lips as her gaze met his, her heart beat wildly.
"Of course, if that is your wish, who am I to deny you?" Alex said, his tone teasing.
She snapped back to her senses, waving a dismissive hand. “Do not be daft. I’ve no wish to be ruined.” She took a step, then hesitated as she stared at his full lips.
“Perhaps I should sit so you can reach my lips easier?”
His deep voice rumbled through her, and the sunlight warmed her face as it caught the sharp line of his jaw and glinted in his eyes. Her throat went dry as she drew nearer to him, looking down into his upturned face.
He propped himself against the edge of the fountain with slow deliberation, then pinned his gaze to hers. Daphne hesitated for another moment before stepping forward into the space between his spread thighs. "Close your eyes," She ordered softly, her heart hammering in anticipation.
“I would rather not,” he said, his gaze growing more intense as it lingered on her. “But you are welcome to close yours.”
The devil she would.
Her pulse raced as she leaned toward him, closing the space between them and pressing her lips to his. She pulled back abruptly, her lips tingling.
“Is that all?” He leaned forward. “I have kissed my mother with more fervor.”
Daphne shook her head. “That is all you deserve.” She turned and started down the path, finding herself more than a little unsettled from their chaste kiss. Had he experienced the same spark of desire?
More importantly, how many of his kisses could she endure before she gave in to his true wish and joined him beneath the sheets? Or worse, gave him her heart?
Perhaps their bargain had been a foolish endeavor. She should put an end to it before things went too far. No. She could not do that. He would be gone before long, certainly by summer’s end.
She could remain strong.
She had to for Henry.
She'd simply keep reminding herself that Alex was a rogue—treat their kisses like the unpleasant tasks they were and remember that, in the end, he would fund Henry's education.
