Page 52 of Unmasked By a Captivating Lady
“An Arabian?” Ara squeaked. “But they cost a fortune!”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, but I did not care about that, not in the least.” His dark eyes burnt brightly as he gazed at her. His voice dropped lower, so that she had to bend her head, to hear him. “I love you, Ara. What I told you on the night of the ball is true. Please, let me make it up to you…”
Ara gazed at him steadily, feeling her knees suddenly turn to water. It took all of her effort not to sink to the ground. She felt her hand tremble slightly, and she gripped the rag tighter to stop it from falling.
She simply could not believe this. He was doing it to heragain.
He looked so sincere, gazing up at her with his burning eyes. And her heart was already automatically responding to him. How could it not, when he was so ardent? After he had travelled all this way to see her, with an Arabian stallion as a gift to try to win her approval again?
She bit her lip in an agony of confusion. He had journeyed to Dorset to see her and in doing so had become the victim of a highway robbery. He had been shot. He had a bullet lodged in his arm.
Her blood ran cold. He could have been killed.
But then she remembered everything that had happened. How he had calculatingly tricked her. How he had pushed his advantage over her in the garden, knowing that the only way that he would get her to respond to him was through sensual passion. And then, when she had told him to leave her alone, he had pursued her through his brother’s house, causing her to become so mad that a public scene had ensued.
She took a deep breath. This man had proved himself a liar and a cold blooded sensualist. Yes, he claimed to love her, but how could she really believe it? How could shetrusthim, after all that he had done?
“I am happy that you escaped the robbery alive,” she said carefully. “I do not wish to see you injured, or dead, my Lord.” She hesitated. “But this is so very sudden, and unexpected. I do not know if I can commit myself to a relationship with a person who has lied to me…”
A flash of pain came over his face. “I know it is unexpected,” he whispered. “I know that I have taken you by surprise, but I did not know what else to do, to show you how I truly feel.” He paused. “Will you at least consider what I am saying? You do not have to make up your mind straight away, Ara. I will wait…”
She took a deep, ragged breath. Slowly, she kept dabbing at his wound, clearing the blood. Her eyes drifted over the smooth, slightly brown skin of his upper arm, and she shuddered. The physical attraction that she felt for him burnt as strongly as it ever had.
Her heart, and her body, were telling her one thing. But her mind was telling her quite another, and she knew that she ignored it at her peril. Look at what had happened the last time she had let him sway her with his touch and his sweet words.
She took another deep breath. She must be vigilant, and guard herself against the lure of him. She felt like she was a snake, being charmed by a flute, becoming dangerously mesmerised into submission.
With difficulty she stood up, giving the rag back to Mrs. Dinsmore.
“You can take over, now,” she said, in as steady a voice as she could muster. “Dress his wound. As soon as my father has returned, inform him what has happened. He must decide what is next to be done…”
“Yes, miss,” said the housekeeper.
“Ara…” He stared at her beseechingly, his dark eyes burning.
She didn’t look at him. Without another word she walked out of the kitchen, back down the hallway. It was only when she had reached the bottom of the staircase that she stumbled, gripping the balustrade for support.
Chapter 26
Miles gazed at the flame of the candle, which was sputtering in its holder. It was slightly mesmerising, staring at it. It was as if all his thoughts were draining away, second by second.
He blinked rapidly, staring around the room that the housekeeper had led him to, after the local doctor had ministered to his bullet wound. It was medium sized, located on the ground floor of the house, and adequately furnished. However, he knew that if circumstances had been different he would have been given a bigger, more elaborate room, upstairs.
He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the throbbing in his arm. He was just grateful that Mr. Moses Nott had made the decision that he could stay in their home after his surgery. The fact that the man had not turfed him out, which he must surely have been tempted to do after everything that had happened in London, was a miracle indeed.
But the Notts were obviously good, decent people at heart, and they had taken the doctor’s advice seriously. He had told them that the patient should not be moved yet, even the five miles to his own home. They had let him stay in their home, probably against their better judgement. Yes, he should be very grateful.
He squirmed in the bed. He was so very weary that he could barely keep his eyes open, but conversely, a strange restlessness was consuming him. He kept gazing around the room, knowing that there was simply no chance that he would fall asleep now. Probably not for hours.
She is here,he thought feverishly.Somewhere, in this house, she is lying in her bed…
He groaned softly, picturing her. Her dark golden hair loose and spread over the pillow. Her nightgown, clinging to the curves of her body. Those full, creamy breasts. Her secret place, down below, that always opened so eagerly to him…
He squirmed in the bed, in an agony of arousal, which almost smothered the lingering pain in his arm. Why was he doing this to himself? It was like torture, knowing that she was so close but he could not be with her. Knowing that she didn’twantto be with him.
He sighed, turning over in the bed. He had not seen her since she had tended his wound in the kitchen, after he had first arrived so unexpectedly on her doorstep. He had waited for her, his heart jumping every time a door opened, but she had stayed away.
His heart sank. She had made up her mind, then. It didn’t matter that he had journeyed here especially to see her, and that he had brought an Arabian stallion as a gift. It didn’t matter how much he told her that he loved her, and that he was sorry for what he had done.
