Page 5 of The Miracle of Love
This gorgeous beast of a man had kissed her.
Stars were still bursting behind her eyeballs.
Heat shot into her cheeks as she tried to stammer out an explanation and only made things worse. “He did not realize I was already tucked in there when he fell onto the bed atop me.”
His mother gasped. “Atop you?”
“What? Oh, no…well, yes. Purely by accident, and he immediately apologized and put his clothes back on because–”
“He took his clothes off?” His aunt scowled at him. “Wretched boy.”
He merely arched an eyebrow.
Grace coughed. “He cannot be blamed for the manner in which he sleeps. But he wasn’t looking at me, and I was not looking at him. Well, not on purpose. That is, how could I close my eyes when I had no idea who he was or what he was doing in my bed…um, bedchamber?”
She took a deep breath and continued because everyone was looking at her and not saying a word, not even this man who was having far too much fun watching her struggle. Obviously, it was as he had told her. He had no delicate sensibilities whatsoever and did not care if the entire household knew he slept naked.
Or had accidentally fallen into bed with her.
But she cared.
How would she survive another scandal?
She wished someone would say something and let her out of her misery. But the air remained thick and charged, the older ladies still staring at this magnificent form of a man while they awaited his explanation.
He obviously had no intention of giving one, no matter how reproving their looks.
Grace hated the silence, so she tried to fill it. “But I do hope you will forget this unfortunate mishap ever occurred and not breathe a word to anyone…please. This will destroy my reputation if so much as a hint of it gets out. Although I suppose it is already shattered beyond repair and cannot possibly get any worse.”
She turned to Deklan Quinton, melting under the force of his stare. He had leopard eyes. Perhaps this is why she was thinking of him as a beast, but he was not an ungainly sort of animal. No, he was the sleek, lithe sort who moved with the graceful power of a predator.
His eyes were beautiful, an enrapturing, icy blue with hints of amber. Dangerously seductive. She could swear he looked upon her as prey and wanted to eat her.
Devour her if that hot look was any indication.
But in a deliciously enticing way.
Goodness, how did women keep their clothes on when he looked at them with that hunger in his eyes? Well, she supposed goodness had nothing to do with it.
He was still staring at her, his body now taut.
He resembled a leopard about to pounce.
She had seen one once in a royal menagerie and had been enthralled as well as frightened.
She blinked to banish the vision of him savaging her body in a highly improper and yet thoroughly delightful way. “You see, Mr. Quinton, I am considered unfit for good society. But kindly wipe that grin off your face, for I have done nothing wicked myself. Nor will I ever do anything wicked with you.”
He arched a dark eyebrow once again. “Did I ask you to?”
“Well, no. But on the chance you were thinking it…the answer is no. Nor will you want to have anything to do with me once you know who my family is. Your aunt will tell you.”
She hoped Lady Miranda would now take over the explanation, for she felt tears well in her eyes again and did not want to be seen crying. Indeed, she had done nothing but cry these past few months while every possession had been stripped from her parents, her siblings, and herself. Now, her father and brother were held somewhere within the walls of old London. She did not know where, and those in authority who did know refused to tell her or allow her to visit them.
Mr. Quinton caught her arm when she tried to return to her bedchamber. “Grace, it is all right.”
She shook her head. “No, how can I make you understand? It isn’t all right. It can never be.”
He frowned thoughtfully. “Who in blazes are you?”
