Page 78 of One Dangerous Desire
“Do I need to sign for it?” he asked, looking up from a letter he was crafting to one of his factory managers.
“Think it’s for the missus.” The man tipped his chin toward the adjoining office, separated from Rex’s by a half wall and four panels of artfully cut glass.
Rex stood and approached the open door between the two rooms, smiling at the sight of May bent over a watercolor. “Delivery for you, Mrs. Leighton.”
She offered him a beaming smile that set off a current of frisson, warming him, arousing him, stoking that powerful mix of tenderness and need that she always sparked in him.
“It’s my fabric, I think.” Setting her paintbrush aside, she started toward him, stroking a hand down his arm before crossing the room to direct the workman as to where the bolts of fabric should be stored.
Rex got an inordinate thrill out of watching her work, managing people and activities with effortless ease. He didn’t know if business acumen could be inherited. But whether innate or learned from her father or Mr. Graves, May’s skills were impressive.
When the messenger departed, he came up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist. “Are these fabrics for the hotel, Ashworth’s house, or London Sedgwick’s?” His wife was the busiest woman he knew.
She’d begun making suggestions for the hotel’s décor as soon as they’d moved into their rooms, and the decorator he’d hired seemed willing to entertain her ideas. The redesign of Ashworth’s house had begun soon after they’d wed, and the refurbishment of the Sedgwick property on Oxford Street was well underway. At first, her continual jaunts to the duke’s house, where she might encounter Devenham, set Rex’s teeth on edge. But after one visit to see the changes made based on her designs, he understood the nature of her endeavor. Design was a passion, and her talent for it transformed a room so completely that people seemed to behave differently in it. As if the colors and textures affected their moods and outlook. Lady Emily and her father certainly seemed pleased with the changes.
“For none of those projects, actually. I’ve taken on another.”
He appreciated his wife’s energy and her need to stay busy. He was the last to complain about anyone’s commitment to work, but May sometimes worked more hours than he did. “Do you really wish to juggle so many?”
She tipped back her head to gaze at him. “This one may cause me to step back from the others. Or at least take them at a bit slower pace.”
“Sounds like a big project.” He couldn’t imagine any task being so daunting it could slow her down.
“Perhaps, but I’m hoping for your help.”
For a lady who’d been raised in luxury, served and pampered in every way, Rex had quickly learned May possessed a fiercely independent streak. He loved that she was asking him to help her in any endeavor.
“You can always count me in, love.”
“Excellent.” She smiled back at him. “Though I should warn you that it will involve extensive hours, a good deal of worry, and a long-term investment.”
“Are you going to tell me what this project is, or do I need to seduce it out of you?” He nuzzled her neck, tilting his hips suggestively against her.
She laughed and grasped his hands where they rested at her waist. With a tug, she pulled them down to cover her belly. “I like to call this project Baby Leighton.”
For a lost moment he froze, everything in him tensing, not in fear, not in those terrible hot-cold shivers, but in disbelief. He’d dreamed of having a child with May. They’d even discussed the prospect, but now that the moment was upon him, it seemed almost too great a blessing to take in.
If meeting May again and marrying her was the answer to all he’d been seeking his entire life, this was a reward beyond even his loftiest daydreams.
She turned in his arms and placed a hand on his face. “We have months to plan. When he—or she—arrives, the hotel will be nearly finished.”
He managed a nod while looking into her eyes. “Yes.”
When she offered her sunniest smile, all the tension in his body melted. He embraced her, lifting her in his arms, to kiss her hair, her neck, and then take her lips.
Breathless minutes later, all he could manage was “Thank you.”
May laughed. “I believe we’re equally responsible for this project.”
“We should send a telegram to your father.” A few months before, Rex would have been shocked to hear the words come out of his mouth, but he and May’s father had achieved an unexpectedly congenial peace before the man returned to New York. Returning to the States seemed to have tempered Sedgwick a bit, and he was throwing himself into the improvement of his department stores in New York and Chicago.
Before he’d left London, Rex had joined Sedgwick at his club to discuss business on more than one occasion. Not with any end or gain in mind but simply as an exchange of ideas between two businessman.
“He will be over the moon to hear he’s going to be a grandfather,” May said. Lifting her arms, May clasped her hands behind Rex’s neck. “Speaking of grandfathers, don’t forget that yours is coming for tea this afternoon.”
“Yes, I remember.” Whereas Rex had made peace with Seymour Sedgwick, his relationship with Lord Camford remained tangled. Sedgwick wanted nothing from him, except his promise to love and care for May. That was easy to give.
The baron, however, wanted more. That Rex should be pleased to join in family gatherings and, someday, accept an inheritance he’d set aside for Rex. Neither prospect interested him in the least.
