For the Love of a Soldier (19 page)

So much for distracting herself.

She removed the pins holding her wig in place. Slipping it off, she dispensed with the rest of the clips tying up her hair and threaded her fingers through the freed strands. She untied her cravat and yanked it off as well. When she unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt, she breathed freely for the first time in hours.

A noise nearby made her jump.

She froze, straining to hear. Another sound carried to her, a dull thud as if something had fallen on the floor. Her eyes searched the room and found a second door beside the armoire. Without thinking, she stormed over to it, yanked it open, and gasped.

Garrett.

He stood in the middle of what appeared to be the spacious
master suite. Her feet sank into a thick Aubusson carpet, and her eyes strayed to the inviting spool bed piled high with pillows. She noticed Garrett’s jacket tossed onto the comforter and quickly averted her gaze, her heart thudding.

Garrett grinned. He had removed his boots, thus explaining the noise she had heard earlier. His cravat was untied and the top buttons of his shirt were open, his shirttails untucked and hanging loose. Independent and arrogant, it was so like the man to not wait for a valet to disrobe.

It was of no relevance to her who undressed him. She clenched her jaw. Again, that had not sounded right. She shouldn’t be wondering about his valet but more important, she shouldn’t be thinking about Garrett undressing.

She needed to focus on his presence in the master suite in the room next to hers. If this door connected his room to hers, that made her bedchamber the…She braced a hand against the doorframe and lifted her chin. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

He cocked his brow, leisurely stripping off his cravat and tossing it onto his bed.

After a tantalizing peek at the naked skin through the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, she kept her eyes fastened on his face, which was also a mistake.

He looked amused. “I’m getting undressed. You’re welcome to join me.”

“This has to stop!” She resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “We had an agreement.”

Laughing, he crossed to a side table to lift the crystal decanter sitting there. He filled a glass and crossed to Alex’s side. His lips pursed when she pressed back against the doorframe as if seeking refuge.

Without a word, he caught her hand, placed the glass in it, and curled her fingers around its solid surface. “Drink that.” He nodded to the swirling liquid. “It’s brandy. It will relax you.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he pressed his fingers against her lips, silencing her with the intimate gesture.

“I do remember our agreement and I’m sticking to it.” His hand dropped. “But part of our arrangement is protecting you. You forget, someone wants me dead. I refuse to let you be a casualty in their plot. As safe as I believe this estate is, I have
no guarantees. Your welfare is my concern, so for now, I’m keeping you close.” In a quicksilver mood change, his intensity vanished and he grinned, a gleam in his eyes as he leaned close. “If I can’t have you in my bed, next door is the safest alternative.” He pressed his fingers to the bottom of her glass and lifted it to her. “Drink.”

She slapped his hand away and took a sip. Like liquid fire, the brandy burned her throat and made her eyes water. She blinked furiously and coughed, Garrett’s laughter rumbling through her.

“And Alexandra,” he said, his voice lowered, her name like a whispered endearment on his lips. “I’m not partial to unwilling bedmates. I’ve never forced a woman. You don’t need a house wing separating us, nor this door, locked or otherwise. All you need is one word—‘no.’” He flashed a devilish grin and leaned closer still, one hand braced on the doorframe above her head, the other reaching out to capture a lock of her hair.

She caught her breath as his knuckles brushed the pulse beating in her throat before he moved his hand away and the long strand slid through his fingers.

“But I prefer ‘absolutely,’” he breathed.

Alex was mesmerized by the slow, seductive smile curving his lips and lighting his eyes. This conversation had not gone in the direction she intended. Once again, Garrett had steered her off course.

But he was right. He had never forced her, and if the man was bent on ravishing her, he could have done it six times over by now. He might be a rake, but he was a gentleman rake. All she had to do was say no. She would do so next time.

And there would be a next time.

A rake, gentleman or not, was still a rake, and stealing kisses is what they did, some better than others. Garrett had perfected the practice.

“Yes, you’re right. You’re absolut…” Her words trailed off. She stepped back into her room and gripped the doorknob. “I just needed that clarified. It’s, ah…it’s good we understand each other.” She jumped when Garrett reached toward her.

He removed the glass from her hand.

His fingers were warm, his touch sending a shiver down her body. “Good night, Garrett.”

“Alexandra?” She was about to close the door, but Garrett’s hand blocked it. “I’ll teach you the proper use of a revolver. You need to be comfortable with it.”

She moistened her lips to respond. “Yes, that might be wise if I’m going to be near you.” She liked his look of surprise. “Good night.”

When his hand dropped from the door, she closed it firmly and slumped back against it, her heart galloping.

She heard his laughter through the door and her smile grew. She hadn’t fully regained her footing, but she was finding it.

Her parting salvo was a start.

G
ARRETT
leaned forward in his office chair, nodding his head as his secretary reviewed the accounts, updating him on the needs of his tenants and sundry other estate matters.

He listened attentively or rather, presented the appearance of doing so. His secretary, David Stewart, was young and new to the job. In his eagerness, he got bogged down in details. Garrett should have expected it, for Stewart used to be his artillery sergeant. Precision was a valued asset in the man’s former profession.

With his secretary’s head bent over his papers, Garrett removed his pocket watch under cover of the desk and read the time. Good Lord, they had been at it for over two hours. This would not do. Besides, Garrett needed to assess the grounds for himself and speak to his men about patrolling the area. On Garrett’s turf now, the bastard wanting him dead would be trespassing. If he dared to do so, Garrett would be ready. A tic vibrated in his cheek as he clenched his jaw.

His eyes narrowed on Stewart. He’d give him a few more minutes, and then he’d intercede. He had other plans. He also
had a woman to seduce, and he had yet to strategize this second, although far more pleasurable, battle plan.

The tension in him eased as his thoughts drifted to Alex, warm and responsive in his arms. Stewart wasn’t the only one who had a memory for details. He recalled the taste of her mouth, the pliant arch of her body against his, and the feel of her fingers threading through his hair. He crossed his legs, struggling to maintain an attentive expression. When he felt his lips curve, he knew he was losing the fight.

Before Stewart caught him looking like a besotted fool, Garrett cleared his throat and slid his chair back. “Thank you, Stewart. Clearly, I have the right man in this position.” Garrett circled the desk to meet his surprised secretary, who jumped to his feet. He squeezed Stewart’s shoulder and steered him to the door.

“Ah, thank you, my lord. But I had a few more matters—”

“I’m sure you do. Why don’t we tour the grounds, and you can continue your report along the way.”

Stewart nodded, looking chastened. “You’re quite right, sir. I should have anticipated you would want to see things for yourself. That was remiss of me.”

“On the contrary. I have every confidence that you have missed nothing. Your attention to detail is beyond reproach.”

His secretary beamed. “Thank you, sir. The vicar assisted me.”

“The vicar?” Garrett raised a brow, his hand on the door.

Stewart shifted his feet, before giving a curt nod.

Garrett studied his secretary, aware for the first time of the shadows underlining the man’s blue eyes. “Very wise of you. I’m sure the vicar is a great help in many areas.”

Stewart’s relief was visible. “Yes, sir. He has been.”

“Good.” Garrett nodded. After a pause, he added, “And he does have a lovely daughter.”

A flush stole over the younger man’s fair features. Garrett smiled as he entered the front hallway. But his smile froze and he stopped short at the sight greeting him at the bottom of the stairs. He blinked at the vision standing before him.
Alexandra.

Her blonde locks were tucked into a neat chignon. She wore a deep, royal blue gown that cinched her slim waist and revealed
alluring curves her men’s jacket had concealed. Having held her in his arms, Garrett knew her to be a slip of a thing, but still she was round in all the right places and his eyes roamed over them in admiration. She had high, full breasts, another hidden asset. At his side, his fingers flexed and he swallowed. She was beautiful.

Dear lord, he hoped his secretary wasn’t the only one to have something of more interest transpire before their next meeting.

The gleam in her eyes snapped Garrett out of his reverie. He’d been caught staring like a boy just out of short trousers, experiencing his first awareness of a woman. There was something to be said for hiding one’s light under a bushel.

He cleared his throat and dipped into a shallow bow. “Good morning,
Miss
Daniels. I trust you slept well. You look lovely. After a lengthy business meeting, you are the perfect sight to greet the rest of the day, like a ray of sunshine.”

Alexandra looked wary at his trite cliché. Hell, his flattery was rusty. No surprise there. Having no use for it over the past two years, it needed a bit of polish. It was a necessary tool in the art of seduction, and he needed all his weapons precision sharp if he planned an assault.

“I slept fine and have dined as well. Your meeting ran smoothly?” Her eyes drifted between Garrett and his secretary.

“I couldn’t have left matters in better hands. This is David Stewart, my secretary and estate manager,” he said, not waiting for his secretary’s reaction to an unchaperoned woman being his houseguest. “Now we plan to follow up on our discussion with a tour of the grounds, and you have arrived just in time to join us.”

Alexandra looked surprised. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose. I—”

“No imposition. In fact, I insist. Your lovely company will brighten our day.” Good lord. He sounded like a daft doe-eyed idiot. Feared he looked like one, too. This had to stop. But when Alexandra smiled, her luminous blue eyes sparkling, he found he was smiling back, delighted with himself.

“Thank you, I’d love to join you. It is wise to view things firsthand. On-site inspections often provide the best perspective on how to handle certain matters.”

Do they now?
Garrett wondered at her response.
Had she assisted her father with the estate? Hadn’t they had an estate manager?
More questions, more dreaded puzzle pieces.

“How long has it been since you have visited this estate?”

“A while,” he answered. “But Stewart has kept me updated on those issues needing immediate attention, and I trust him implicitly.” Garrett addressed his secretary. “Why don’t you head down to the stables? See that Ned has our mounts prepared and that Cook has sent food ahead for the saddlebags.”

“Certainly, my lord.” Stewart bowed his head and turned to follow his directive.

Alexandra watched him stride down the corridor, her eyes dipping to the sleeve his secretary kept tucked inside his jacket pocket. She spoke softly. “His hand—?”

“He was my artillery sergeant. Shall we go?”

“The food sent ahead?” She faced him, raising a brow.

Damn. She was as attuned to details as his secretary. “It could be a long day, and we might not make it back in time for dinner.”

“Mmh. You had planned for me to join you all along. What if I hadn’t agreed to go?”

He shrugged. “The question is moot as your choice has coincided with mine.”

“How convenient for you,” she said dryly.

“And the estate,” he added. “You speak as if you are familiar with estate management. Did you grow up on a large property? Assist in estate matters in the past?”

He waited for her answer, but relented at the caged look darkening her features. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t wish for me to know.”

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

He felt a twinge of disappointment; however, he understood he needed to gain her trust. It made seductions run more smoothly. “Shall we go?”

Alexandra started forward, but when he moved to follow, she swung around. “My father owned property and I used to review reports with the estate manager. We often toured the grounds together and met with tenants. My father, unlike Mr. Stewart, he…he wasn’t a man for details.”

He studied her guarded look, wondering how she expected
him to respond. Was she wary of admitting an understanding of men’s business? Did she think he gave a damn for such matters? But more important, why did she have to flee when her uncle gained the title?