Damien studied the enigma that was his wife through an alcoholic haze and wondered why he had no interest in plying her with questions. What had happened out at The Grange two years ago when she disappeared? Where had she been for the past few years, and how in the world did she end up as a governess to a merchant class family like the Brauns?
“How long will we have to wait here?” Isabella’s gently asked question broke into the earl’s thoughts.
“As long as necessary,” he replied obscurely. “I have not come all this way to be denied.” Damien set his empty glass down on the mahogany table next to his chair and propped up his chin with one hand. He suddenly felt a restless urgency to examine Emmeline more closely. “Turn around.”
The earl spoke softly, but something in his voice set Isabella’s teeth on edge. Yet, she obeyed him and gracefully pivoted on her heel.
No lamps or candles had been lit in the red salon, and the lack of afternoon sun produced a gray light in the room. During his previous encounters with Isabella, Damien had focused almost exclusively on her unique violet eyes. Yet in this fading light, he could not clearly see the shade of her eyes, and she looked different to him somehow. She did not look like the wife he remembered. It disturbed him.
“Remove your bonnet.”
Isabella’s dark brows drew together at the earl’s strange command, but she lifted her arms and took off her hat.
“Now take down your hair.”
“Really, sir!” Isabella sounded outraged.
“Just do it.” The earl’s voice was impatient.
A flicker of emotion passed over Isabella’s lovely face, but she did not refuse his odd request. Slowly she removed the pins securing her rich chestnut hair. Once freed, it fell in long, thick waves down past her waist.
When the earl saw her unbound hair, he rose quickly from his chair, almost knocking it over. He looked very surprised. He was certain the deep chestnut color was different from what he remembered, as were the luscious length and curls. Color could be changed and curls added—Damien knew that much about a female’s hair. But the length? In all the years of their marriage Damien had never seen Emmeline’s hair reach any farther than the tops of her shoulders. Was it possible for a woman’s hair to grow that long in two years?
“Your hair is different,” Damien stated, his tone genuinely puzzled. “What have you done to it?”
“I have done nothing to my hair,” Isabella replied steadily. “It is precisely as it has always been.”
Damien took several steps toward the center of the room to gain a better view.
“You must have changed your hair,” Damien protested. “I have never seen it as it is now.”
The earl advanced a few steps farther until he stood only inches away. He reached out a long arm and grabbed a fistful of Isabella’s hair. It felt like heavy silk. He brought the rich chestnut curls up close to his face to examine them, and he could see the threads of gold intertwined with the red and brown.
He tugged on the silken mass, using her hair to draw her closer to him. Positioned a scant few inches away, Isabella could not help but notice the almost terrifyingly powerful muscles of his chest and arms, the glint of determination darkening his gray eyes. He was a strong man, both physically and mentally. An immovable force.
Isabella felt the strange tension that seemed to emanate from the earl’s solidly built body the minute she drew near him. She watched him closely with questioning eyes, unsure of what was going to happen next. Despite her inner qualms, she never moved, forcing herself to remain perfectly still.
Damien put his free arm around her waist and pulled her against his hard body, effectively making her his prisoner. Frightened and startled by the unexpected move, Isabella tried to twist away, but he held her hair tightly and her scalp tingled with pain.
“You are hurting me, my lord,” she cried out softly. She stared up into his darkly handsome face, her eyes beseeching him to release her hair.
Damien saw the tears gathering in her eyes, and he let the shimmering mass escape his fingers. He moved his strong hand along her jawline and took her chin firmly in his fingers, tilting it upward. Then he increased the pressure of his other arm around her waist.
Isabella could feel the long, hard muscular length of him pressing closer against her body and it made her feel dizzy. Her breathing became unsteady as she stood transfixed, staring into his steely gray eyes for a timeless instant. And then, without warning, he bent his dark head and brought his mouth down on hers in a crushing kiss.
Isabella went rigid with shock. Yet the firm, insistent pressure of the earl’s surprisingly soft lips against her own made her quickly forget every rule of female modesty she had ever been taught. Her shock gave way to fascination and she found herself relaxing against him, eager to experience the mysterious pleasure he so effortlessly brought forth.
His tongue moved delicately along the seam of her lips and Isabella heard herself whimper. Lost in her first real embrace, she felt the tide of passion sweep over her entire body as the earl’s mouth moved more insistently, more demandingly on her own. Isabella was unaware that her hands moved upward to rest on his broad chest in a subtle sign of encouragement as the glittering excitement raced through her.
Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined a kiss could be so all encompassing. This heady mix of emotion and excitement nearly overwhelmed her.
With a low groan, Damien broke off the kiss. He raised his head and looked down at the woman he held in his arms. Her eyes were closed and her whole body felt limp with sensation. He strongly suspected she would fall if he did not continue to hold her securely in his arms.
More than anything, Damien felt the need to kiss her again. And again. Kiss her more deeply, caress her more passionately with his mouth and his hands.
Her response had been genuine and passionate. She had returned his kisses with true ardor, but there had been a sweet innocence about her lips, a sort of wonder and awe in her response. She was obviously very inexperienced in making love. Her kisses had proven that.
They also proved beyond a doubt that she was not his wife.
