Page 50 of The Duke and the Lady in Red
“I also saw to the lease on your residence,” he continued.
Relief swamped her, a weight lifted that until that moment she hadn’t realized had been so incredibly heavy. They had lodgings that no one could take away from them, at least for a time. “Seems you were quite busy.”
“I even found time for something more pleasant.”
With long even strides he crossed over to her. Indulging, she inhaled his magnificent masculine scent, almost took things a step further and leaned into him. She wanted her head on that broad chest, his strong arms around her. Ridiculous to want so badly what she would only hold for a little while. Perhaps that was what made it so appealing. If she knew she would have him for the remainder of her days, surely she would grow as bored with him as he would with her. It was the circumstance, the finite hours that were ticking by far too quickly. Why were they still down here anyway? Why hadn’t he carried her up to bed already? Why were they still clothed when she longed for silken flesh over slick skin?
Leisurely, as though he had the power to stop the clocks, and minutes weren’t passing that could never be regained, he slipped his hand inside his jacket and like a magician she’d once seen, he pulled forth a black velvet box that appeared too large to have been hidden so effectively inside a coat pocket. He held it toward her. “For you.”
Now she was the one moving as though time had stopped, as though nothing was to be gained in hurrying. Slowly she opened the box and stared in wonder at the most beautiful set of rubies interspersed with tiny diamonds that she’d ever seen. She imagined the necklace around her throat, draped across her collarbone. Shaking her head, she closed the velvet lid and extended the box toward him. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” he asked, his brow furrowing so deeply that it had to be painful.
“It’s as though you’re rewarding me for being in your bed. To accept it would make me feel like a whore.”
“You do recall that I’m giving you five thousand pounds. Not to mention paying off your damned debt.”
She’d angered him, not at all the mood she wanted for tonight. She didn’t want drama. She simply wanted ... peace. She wanted what had passed between them in the dark of the night. “I haven’t forgotten, but this feels different. I can’t explain.”
He dropped into a nearby chair and stared up at her. “You are the most confounding person I’ve ever met. I’ve given jewelry to countless women. It doesn’t mean anything.”
His words stung, tiny barbs pricking at her heart. She’d thought she was special, had attributed some meaning to the gorgeous item, placed more value on it because it was coming from him. “I suppose that’s it. You rain jewelry down on women who visit your bed. It makes me like all the others.”
“Trust me, Rose, you are nothing at all like any of the others.”
Slowly she sank into a chair. “Why?”
His jaw tightened. “Why what?”
“How am I different?”
Narrowing his eyes, he drummed his fingers on the arms of the chair, one at a time, rolling them along, over and over. “For one thing, you’re not falling over yourself striving to please me at every turn. You prick my temper. You’re argumentative. You challenge me. You—”
“You want it easy?” she asked. “Life, Your Grace, is not easy for everyone.”
“You think my life is easy?”
“What else am I to think when you don’t share anything of significance with me?”
“What you should think is that you should be damned grateful I don’t burden you with the troubles in my life.” Abruptly he stood and tossed the velvet case back into her lap. “You don’t have to accept it but you will wear it while you’re here.”
She shot up, not reaching out to save the velvet when it plopped to the floor. “The terms of our agreement do not take away my choices. I agreed to be with you for a week, but I will not be controlled. What I wear during our time together is my decision.”
“Fine, do as you please. We’re going to the club this evening. I was going to ask you to wear the red you wore the night we met. But wear whatever pleases you as I no longer give a damn.”
As he stormed from the room, tears stung her eyes. What the devil had just happened?
Chapter 11
Within his library, Avendale splashed scotch carelessly into a glass and downed it in one long swallow. He welcomed the burn, the heat, anything to counter the anger coursing through him. Anger at himself because sharp disappointment had gouged him when she rejected his gift. It felt like a rejection of him. Especially as he’d spent nearly an hour striving to find the perfect necklace for her. The red had to be the right shade, the diamonds not too many. The piece itself could not be overwhelming and yet it needed to be noticeable. Barely.
He poured more scotch, tossed it back. Generally when he selected jewelry for a lady, he purchased the first piece he saw. He didn’t care if it was gaudy or too small. He didn’t care how it would fall just below her neck. He didn’t give any thought as to whether she would like it or it was suited to her.
He’d agonized over his decision today. Fretted over it, wanting so much to please her. Now it irritated the devil out of him that he’d given so much weight to his decision.
She was with him because of five thousand quid and she drew the line at sparkling stones? He’d never understand her, and damn it all to hell but he’d never wanted anything as desperately as he wanted that. To know her thoughts, to not doubt that when she was with him she was his true Rose and not the swindler.
He wanted something real between them and that made him an utter fool.
