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Authors: Victoria Morgan

For the Love of a Soldier (41 page)

BOOK: For the Love of a Soldier
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“I finally understood what you needed from me. It wasn’t something I could put a price on or gamble away or sell. It took me a while to realize it because they were things I never thought I’d give to anyone. As of a few months ago, I believed they had no value. That no one would want them…until you.”

“What?” she whispered, mesmerized by the husky timbre of his voice.

He lay down and gathered her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “My heart. My soul. My love.”

She sighed, her body warming at his words. They were better than poetry. Blinking at the moisture in her eyes, she had to swallow before she could respond. “It’s a fair exchange, considering you have mine.” Against her ear, she listened to the beat of his heart. “Gifts from the heart are the most valuable. Much better than a horse.” She smiled at his rumble of laughter, closing her eyes as his hand swept through her hair.

For the first time in her life, she understood why her mother never cared when cherished possessions disappeared to pay a debt, a favorite horse was sold, or rooms were emptied of furniture. For should fate again steal her fortune, she’d still be rich. As long as she held Garrett’s heart, she was in possession of all she ever needed to secure her happiness. After a year of hunger, she was full. After months of fear and uncertainty, she felt safe. After so much poverty, she was rich. For tonight, she possessed everything she could ever want.

Her arms lifted to encircle his neck, and Garrett gasped when she nearly strangled him in her hold. Untangling her arms, he pressed a kiss into each of her palms, and lowered her arms to encircle his waist. Once again, she clung tight, desperately seeking to hold him to her, to push away the
blackness hovering over their happily-ever-after and threatening to take Garrett away from her.

She’d think about it tomorrow.

Tonight was theirs, and she was taking it.

It was a long while later that her eyes fluttered closed and she fell asleep to the slow, even beat of Garrett’s heart against her cheek.

Chapter Twenty-eight

F
OUR
sharp knocks on the door in rapid succession had Garrett jerking awake. The war had trained him to be a light sleeper, ever on alert. Upon his return home…well, there wasn’t much sleep to be had then, either. He bolted up, tense and disoriented, disturbed at how deeply he had slept and how erotic his dreams had been. A curse at Havers and his signature knock formed on Garrett’s lips, but the sudden awareness of warmth against his side distracted him. Relief flooded him and he relaxed. He knew exactly where he was and for the first time since his return home, it was right where he wished to be.

Memories swarmed over him, supplanting his dream, the images vivid and all involving Alex. His eyes dropped to her sleeping beside him and his heart skipped. It wasn’t often a man awoke to paradise, complete with his own angel, so he took a moment to savor it. The supplies Havers had left for him would still be sitting outside the door when he was ready to collect them.

He propped his head on his hand and watched her. Her lips were parted and her cheek rested on her hand. Romeo’s words drifted to him,
O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I
might touch—
He blinked. Christ, he was getting soft and it wouldn’t do. His eyes fastened on a bare breast and his body stirred, aroused.

Not all of him was soft.

Grinning, he leaned over and kissed her, gently at first and then with purpose, coaxing her into wakefulness, wanting her again with a desperation that surprised him. He feared he’d never get enough of her, would crave her in his grave. He heard her sigh as her fingers slid into the hair at his nape. She was so damn responsive. Her surrender to him so sweet.

She loved him. No one, with the exception of Kit, had ever loved him as honestly as Alex. When women had declared their love for him, it had amused him, for the man they claimed to love was but an illusion he had made of himself. Only Alex had he trusted enough to reveal all his broken pieces. She knew his nightmares and hadn’t turned away, but rather took him into her heart and claimed him for her own.

Closing his eyes, he lowered his mouth to the slim column of her neck, burying his face in her soft skin and breathing her in. He needed a moment, just a moment.

A sharp tug on his hair had him lifting his head in protest.

“What happened at my uncle’s? What did he say? Did you see my cousins?”

Damn. His moment was up.

He had wanted Alex to waken, but this was not the response he had desired. He groaned. She never stopped her infernal thinking unless he kissed her senseless.
There’s a thought.
He dipped his face to hers, but she yanked harder on his hair.

“Oh, no, you don’t. I want answers.”

“What about what I want?” He wiggled his hips against her.

Her eyes widened. “Mmh, I feel your want.”

“Well?”

“We’ll take care of it later.” She shoved his shoulder and scrambled out from beneath him.

Growling, he rolled onto his back and swore under his breath when she scooped up his shirt and slipped it over her head. She turned and knelt before him expectantly. Her hair was disheveled, her lips swollen, and her cheeks flushed pink. She had never looked more delectable. Or more determined.

He flung an arm over his eyes and blew out a breath. He had forgotten about that irritating mettle of hers. He admired it, but there was a time and place for one to exert their steely resolve. Once they were married, he’d make damn clear it wasn’t when they were naked and he was fully aroused.

“Ouch!” He jerked at the hard poke to his ribs and lowered his arm to glower at her.

“Well?” She glowered back.

Muttering about bossy, ornery females under his breath, he sat up and rolled to his feet, searching for his trousers. Locating them, he snatched them up and yanked them on. “If I’m discussing your uncle, I’m not doing it on an empty stomach. I’m having trouble swallowing the fact that he lives.”

He buttoned his trousers and planted his hands on his hips, regarding Alex as she peered up at him. He studied his shirt, the sleeves rolled up, the tails covering her bare thighs. Unable to resist, he crouched before her. “It’s chilly; perhaps I should put on my shirt?” He laughed when she slapped his roving hand away. “Fine, I’ll light the fire.” He stood, but looking back, he narrowed his eyes and lifted a finger to wag it at her, his expression one of mock severity. “Don’t try escaping. You have my shirt and my heart, and I will come after both.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not leaving until I get answers.”

“You’re a relentless woman,” he muttered as he retrieved the basket from outside. He carried it over to Alex, answering her unasked question. “Havers delivered it. He also advised Brandon and Kit not to worry about us. I had him explain that I was abducting you, and we wouldn’t be returning until you were thoroughly compromised.”

“You didn’t!” She gasped.

“I did!” He laughed at her expression. “Perhaps not in those exact words, but I had to forestall Kit sending out a search party. So now we are at liberty to remain here indefinitely.”

“I see. So I’ve been indefinitely abducted?”


And
thoroughly compromised. Don’t forget that. It’s the best part. Now you have to marry me. You yourself stated that you refused to be my mistress.”

She shook her head. “However, we’re prevaricating. My uncle?” She cocked an imperious brow.

Smiling, he turned to the hearth.
Indefinitely abducted.
He liked the ring of it. He’d have to do it more often. The compromising part was pleasant, too.

His mood improved as he worked to build a fire. He blew on the smoldering embers, coaxing them to catch on the logs, the old editions of the
Times
crumpling as they ignited. He sat back on his heels and watched the fire lick the wood until it eventually caught and climbed in an undulating dance of flames. At the touch on his shoulder, he turned to accept the mug Alex handed him. “Cider?”

“Cider,” she confirmed. “I’ve made up a plate for you.”

He nodded and stood to follow Alex to sit beside her on the sofa. While he had made the fire, she had dragged the table before it and prepared two plates of food. She handed him one, piled high with bread, meats, and cheeses. While his appetite craved something more carnal, this would have to suffice. For now.

“So my uncle?” Alex prodded.

There went his appetite. He struggled not to choke on his bite of bread, taking a swig of his cider to wash it down.

“You were gone over a week. What took you so long?”

His light mood darkened at the memory of his confrontation with her uncle. The combed-over strands of her uncle’s hair had done little to hide his gleaming scalp. The man’s head was as round as the rest of him. Garrett could not fathom his relation to Alex until he looked into the bastard’s vivid blue eyes, magnified behind his wire-rimmed spectacles. He had Alex’s eyes and Garrett damned him for it.

He shifted, shaking off the disconcerting portrait. “Murdering him would have been faster, but Brandon had another plan. His plan took longer because we had to track down your former estate manager, Edward Marks, prior tenants of the estate, various merchants, as well as your uncle’s banker.”

“Marks! However did you find him?” she exclaimed. “And what did you want with all these people?”

“To have leverage in our negotiations. We knew your uncle would bargain over the betrothal contract.” Rather, gouge him for coin to silence her uncle’s slander. “We anticipated his settlement price would be steep.”

He studied Alex’s expression, waiting for her reaction as he
continued. “We met with
Viscount Langdon
to negotiate a betrothal agreement between myself and his niece, Alexandra Langdon.” Her eyes shot to his. “Don’t blame Gus; he didn’t know you hadn’t given me your true identity when he let it slip who your uncle was.”

“I was going to tell you, but I was afraid,” she murmured.

“I love you, Alexandra
Daniels
Langdon. Your surname changes nothing for me.” His shoulder nudged hers. “As Juliet said,
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose…
” Appalled, his voice trailed off and he snapped his mouth closed. He was spouting Shakespeare.
Again
. Is this what love did to a man? Little wonder Brandon walked around looking like an idiot.

Disgusted with himself, he gave his head a sharp shake.

“That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,”
Alex finished. She lifted their joined hands to her lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “That’s for the poetry.”

He forgot his concerns over Shakespeare as his body warmed under her adoring gaze.

“The negotiations?” Alex prodded. “How did they proceed? Was Brandon with you?”

He blinked. “Yes. He played the haughty, intimidating earl while I was the handsome, charming suitor. We both excelled at our parts, but then again, I didn’t have to act.”

She smiled. “And?”

He needed to get this over with or he was never getting her out of that shirt. Resigned, he leaned back and raked a hand through his hair. “Your uncle isn’t a gambler, but he found other venues in which to run through the estate’s profits and climb into the same hole of debt that your father had.” His eyes met Alex’s. “What you didn’t know when you fled is that he didn’t need you to make a lucrative marriage to provide dowries for his daughters, but rather to save himself from debtor’s gaol.”

“No! The estate was profitable. Marks and I—”

“It was profitable when your father lived and you worked with Marks. Your uncle fired Marks, raised the rent on his tenants until most followed the manager’s departure. Fields went fallow because there weren’t workers to farm them. Without crops or tenants to pay rent, there was no income.” He shrugged. “It’s a vicious cycle and your uncle was spinning in it. He needed a lucrative betrothal agreement. So when I
arrived, he offered me your hand in return for my paying him a small fortune.”

Eyes wide, she stared at him. “What did you do?”

He grinned. “I made him a counter offer, one lucrative for both of us. He retained his life and his freedom, while I married his niece and refrained from killing him.”

“You didn’t!” A choked laugh escaped Alex.

“I did. I told your uncle I believed he’d agree to the terms once he understood I was in possession of all his outstanding notes, having paid off his creditors to gain them. I intended to call them in, but gave him a choice of payments. He could pay me the monies owed, or if he signed his niece’s betrothal agreement, I’d cancel his outstanding debts.

“Your uncle quickly understood the benefits to my offer, especially when Brandon advised him that should he decline my terms and continue to spread lies about you, Brandon would kill him if I didn’t get to him first. So I got you and he got to live—and of course, stay out of debtor’s gaol. Both parties were satisfied and negotiations proceeded amicably from then on.”

“Oh, Garrett,” Alex breathed. “And Lord Cheaver?” she murmured, her eyes downcast, her thumb moving over his hand.

BOOK: For the Love of a Soldier
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