She watched, transfixed, as he slowly lowered himself until his head was almost touching the hard wood then pushed back up until he was straight once more. He did several various exercises like this, and then he allowed his legs to touch the floor before he jumped up and grasped the top of one of the wooden bookcases, where he proceeded to lift himself up and down.
His methods were so methodical and precise that Constance didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until it came out in a rush when his feet touched the floor once again. He turned in her direction and she realized that he must have heard her. Instead of running away, since he’d already caught sight of her staring quite brazenly at him, she pushed open the door a bit further and acted as though it was perfectly normal to spy on one’s house guest.
He offered her a curt nod and an equally cool, “Good day,” before he returned his attention to the settee.
For a moment, she was surprised. Until now he’d always said something in an attempt to scandalize her. Or at the very least, he would offer her a heated glance.
But—nothing.
Curious, not only about what sort of act he was performing, but about his sudden change in demeanor toward her, she asked, “What are you doing?”
He paused in what he was about to do and walked over to a nearby table. Picking up a book, he gently tossed it to her. She caught it rather awkwardly, and then turned it over to read the title, “‘Treatise on Gymnasticks’ by Friedrich Ludwig Jahn.”
She glanced up again and saw that Devin was using the settee to hold himself up. His legs were straight behind him as he used the arm of the loveseat to carry his weight with the strength of his forearms.
And what fine appendages they were…
“Do you perform such… stunts often?” she wondered somewhat breathlessly.
After a brief pause, he lowered himself to his feet and finally paused to face her directly. She was both relieved and unnerved by his sudden regard, as the fire in his eyes was still carefully banked while the slight sheen of sweat that covered his body was particularly… distracting to her peace of mind. “I’ve only taken it up recently. I found that book and decided to utilize what was around me, since I don’t have a false horse at my disposal.” He shrugged. “And I thought it would assist in the healing process by making me stronger.”
He rolled his shoulders and her mouth went dry. Her gaze was abruptly drawn to every single movement. He truly was the most well-built man she’d ever met. But as he reached over and grabbed his discarded shirt that had gone unnoticed before now, she nearly regretted it, as covering such a virile form was surely a criminal act.
Thankfully, he didn’t button the front right away, but kept it partially open as he walked over to her. Bringing his arm up, he leaned it against the wall so that she could gain an even better view of his chiseled torso. If it wasn’t for the slightly pink, puckered scar there that reminded her of what Granelli had done to him, he would almost be perfect. Even that light smattering of dark hair on his chest that turned into an enticing trail that disappeared just beneath his trousers was enticing in the extreme.
“Did you need anything else?” he murmured.
“I…er…” Blast! She couldn’t think properly when he was this close and so… undressed.
“If you recall anything, you know where to find me. I should wash up before lunch is served.” His gaze swept over her face and then he pushed off of the wall. Constance stiffened, both eager and reluctant for him to come near, however, he moved past her. At the doorway, he offered her a slight wink. “By the way, you employed a wonderful cook.”
Devin climbed the stairs to his chamber, but it wasn’t until he was safely ensconced inside that he allowed his frustration to escape. He clenched his fists and barely resisted the urge to pound his head against the hard oak of the bed post.
How was he going to survive days, let alone the possibility of weeks, under the same roof with his angel without touching her soft skin and kissing those delightful lips?
How could he not pleasure her until she was moaning his name?
He knew what Luke would say, of course. That he should just go and visit a brothel to satisfy his needs, but that was only a temporary release. What Devin felt for Constance went far deeper than anything he might find in the arms of a willing whore. There were very few women who possessed the red-gold hair that Constance had, nor did they carry themselves with the confidence of a woman who had seen the world and understood how it worked. She was a treasure, the pearl in the oyster, and the brightest star in the heavens.
And just as unattainable.
Devin tore off his shirt and tossed it carelessly on a chair as he walked over to the washstand in the corner of the room. He gathered some of the cool water and splashed some on his face, hoping that it would cool his ardor, though he doubted it would. However, what Luke had said last night had been quite effective. He might desire Constance to the point of distraction and with a threat to his own sanity, but he truly did care about her enough not to put her future in jeopardy through associating with him.
She deserved a man who could protect her from men like Granelli, who could afford to spirit her away to Paris and ensure she was dressed in the best fashions that money could buy.
She needed someone like Sir Isaacson, but Devin would rot in hell before he allowed Brooks anywhere near her. He would not lose his angel to that demon. Annalise had already suffered that fate, but where he had failed with her, he would ensure that Constance didn’t meet the same end.
He paused for a moment to think about his former mistress. He hadn’t allowed himself a moment to grieve for her loss, not wishing Brooks to have any more satisfaction at his expense. It was bad enough that Devin had allowed him to steal five years of his life away in Van Diemen’s Land.
But it wouldn’t happen again.
No matter what might occur between Devin and Constance, Brooks would never catch him off guard again. He was made a fool of once, but there wouldn’t be a chance for a second opportunity.
If the baronet attempted to send him back to hell, this time, he would be ready.
Chapter 13
“Ah. The loveliest woman in London has arrived.”
