Page 45 of The Baron Takes a Bet
“No, you can’t.”
He smirked.
“But I’m a sight more pleasant than her, aren’t I?”
Holly smiled back at him and let out a soft laugh.
“Yes, you are.”
The pair stared at each other for a moment longer, and Gavin opened his mouth just as Katrina and Violet entered the room, followed by a young woman with bright red hair dressed in a grey gown with a white apron tied around her waist.
“Oh Holly, have you seen this place? It’s marvelous!” Katrina said, before turning to the woman behind her. “This is Anne. She said she’ll be seeing to us while we’re here.”
The maid stepped forward and curtsied.
“My lady.”
“Hello,” Holly replied.
“This house is rather strangely styled, isn’t it?” Violet asked as her eyes drifted up. Her head tilted to the side. “My word…”
“Ah yes, it’s certainly something,” Holly said, standing up. Arms outstretched; she herded the girls out. “Why don’t we go have Anne show us to our rooms, shall we?”
“Did you hear all that howling?” Katrina asked over her shoulder to Gavin. “I wonder if it was the cat making all that noise.”
“Ah, yes. I forgot about her bad back,” Gavin said to himself before speaking up. “Her name is Miss Marnie Winscombe. She is my aunt and unfortunately she’s invited herself to stay here for an undisclosed amount of time.”
“Really?” Katrina said, looking at Holly. “I thought John’s sister had died.”
“She is very much alive,” Holly said, shooing the girls towards the door. “Now, let’s go find our rooms,” she said as they reached the doorway. She turned. “Goodnight.”
“Good night, Holly,” he said, raising his glass as if to toast her as she left.
Chapter Ten
That night Gavinsuffered one of the most restless periods of sleep he had ever experienced. Nothing could make him relax, and as the night wore on, the only thing he could think about was waking the previous morning in bed next to Holly.
It had been a titillating experience, waking up next to her. Her inquisitive, yet still drowsy blue eyes had shined with curiosity. Her soft, walnut-colored hair fell around her shoulders, with pieces framing her face like a picture. He had considered her a beauty since the first time he saw her, but the way she had looked in the privacy of their room, in the early morning light, had made him feel like he was witnessing some sacred thing. He had reached for her on instinct, wanted to kiss and command her, but he had hesitated.
When she had brushed her mouth against his, nipping at his lip, all senses left his body. He was a man possessed, desperate to touch, taste, and learn every inch of her body with his own. He had nearly spent himself when he pulled her soft body against his—and he likely would have if not for being interrupted.
Gad, it was almost embarrassing how affected by her he was. Gavin had experienced waking up naked to a fair number of women before. He had even been somewhat experimental in his younger years. The wide range of sexual activities he had done would make most men blush, but waking up next to a nightgown-covered Holly had been infinitely more erotic thananything else he had ever experienced. It was utterly foreign to him, waking up next to someone he cared for.
The realization that he cared about Holly had become the singular thought in his mind. When and where it had happened was a mystery, but ithadhappened. He cared for her, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.
He had managed his whole life without the care or concern of another person. Of course, there were his friends and the like, but he had never once entertained the idea of having someone rely on him. He had always been too busy with work or his travels. Whenever his old, bitter feelings about life would surface, Gavin would throw himself into something new to drown it out. If he was being honest with himself, he had felt that way about his last trip. Was that why he was so charmed by Holly? Because she was a distraction?
He needed time to consider that.
Unable to remain in bed, Gavin got up and began dressing, glancing at a stack of black leather ledgers that were stacked against the far wall in several towering piles. These were undoubtedly his uncle’s journals that had been left to him, though Gavin didn’t understand why the former baron had wanted him to read them. He hoped they weren’t the stories that had been rumored to be written by his uncle—erotic stories involving all sorts of members of the ton. Gavin wasn’t terribly interested in reading something he would later regret. He ignored them as he moved about the room.
Dressed in grey trousers, a matching waistcoat, and a black wool jacket, Gavin exited the lavish bedchambers into the hallway and headed down the opulent, gold-inlay wooden staircase. It was almost painful for the eyes to behold such a garish living space. The dining room wasn’t decorated much better, with royal blue walls, forest green curtains, and threecrystal chandeliers hovering above a dark wood table ladened with hundreds of pieces of brass and crystal dinnerware.
Three large vases sat directly beneath the chandeliers and were filled with dozens of purple tulips, each petal striped delicately with a faded slash of green as if they had just barely finished blooming. The entire room had seemingly been prepared as though they were expecting royalty to visit, a vast difference from the simple breakfast that Gavin had expected.
Turning, he saw two footmen stationed at the entryway. He needed to speak to someone about all this.
“Where’s Mr. Spieth?” Gavin asked the footmen.
