Page 53 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

Without his noticing, Mrs. Brown had delivered his evening meal. It remained untouched on the table close to the hearth.

At some point, his valet had turned down his bed and stoked the fire.

Still, Damon watched for the woman’s return.

She would return. She must return, he repeated silently.

He glanced at the hearth, the fire waning but still enough to keep the room warm, before glancing back outside to the street below. In the hall outside his study, the tall clock chimed twice.

Two in the morning.

Where had the hours gone? Had Abram fallen asleep? Had Joy awoken to find him gone from her bedside?

And where in the bloody hell had Miss Samuels disappeared to?

He’d stopped himself several times from going to 10 Mill Street. Indeed, that must be where she was. Gambling.

He wondered if it were a habit or an addiction for her. Did she gamble out of necessity or was it merely for the thrill of it?

It didn’t matter why she did it—or even that she gambled at all. It was none of his concern, as she’d pointed out to him quite bluntly when she caught him following her the other night. She was a servant in his household. However, he could not forget the memory of her plunging into the water alongside him. She had been affected by the incident with Joy as much as he had.

If it didn’t matter—if she didn’t matter—why had he settled her debts with the Duke of Catherton? Far more than that, why hadn’t he told her that he’d paid her debts? Payton hadn’t any notion that he knew she was the mysterious, masked woman at this gaming nights. Hell, until the previous week, Damon hadn’t known either.

If it weren’t for his children’s horrid prank and the dye that had stained her arm, he might never have made the connection. Perhaps that would have been better for everyone involved.

Damon pulled the cord, releasing the drapes, and they fell over the window, blocking out the street below. If she didn’t return by morning, it was his own fault.

Kissing his children’s governess.

He tensed, remembering the desire that had coursed through him at the mere touch of skin against skin. He’d forgotten how all-consuming a physical connection could be. Add to that the empathy in her eyes when he spoke of his past, and everything within him craved her—the connection of an honest conversation, the press of her soft body against his, the security of his arms holding another.

What had come over him?

But it hadn’t only been that moment. No, something had drawn him to her even before he learned her secret. He’d known when she stood before him dripping blue-tinted water all over the expensive rug in his study.

He shook his head, clenching his fists at his sides. He stalked toward the hearth, past his waiting meal, and back toward the covered window.

He could never betray Sarah in such a way, yet he knew he’d done precisely that when Miss Samuels had appeared at his door with references in hand. He hadn’t done his due diligence when hiring her to care for his children. Her letter of recommendation and references still resided in Mrs. Brown’s care, and though he’d read them, Damon hadn’t been in a place to be overly fastidious with his selection. He’d neglected his responsibilities where the governess was concerned, similarly to many other aspects in his life. It had been only Payton who applied for the position.

It was little wonder the woman had turned out to have unsavory habits not fit for a governess.

If he dared tell her about paying her debts, she would demand to know why, just as she’d questioned why he followed her to Mill Street. Could he convince her that it was for his children that he’d done it and not for himself? Hell, he wasn’t wholly convinced either way.

No, he couldn’t tell her. Wouldn’t tell her.

If he did, she’d expect an explanation to follow—and he had none.

He slumped into the chair facing the fire and stared into the flames, allowing them to soothe his aching chest and calm his pounding head while begging for sleep. For years, he’d been tortured by nightmares of losing Sarah all over again. But, for some reason, he suspected when he did find sleep, the terrors would be new…and not what he would expect.

His worst nightmare, that of losing one of his children, would roll through his mind over and over again…overshadowed only by his absolutely horrifying lack of sense when he dared kiss Payton.

…and liked it.

No, he more than liked it, he’d been devastated by it. It changed everything, yet nothing.

After all his years with Sarah—their love, their companionship, their joys and heartbreak—this dalliance with Payton was different. It hadn’t held the comfortable familiarity of an intimate moment shared with a woman he knew innately, likely as well as he knew himself, but that did not mean it was any less poignant.

But it had only been a kiss, their bodies pressed close for no more than several breaths.