A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

“Strange,” he said softly. “I feel the heat of your desire.”

“Then perhaps I am a good actress.”

“Yes, perhaps you are.”

Still, she did not look at him.

“Show me love, Miss Darling. In your mind, how is it different?”

Love was felt on a deeper level. Great poets spoke of a soul connection, told of the eyes being the gateway to a higher plane. With lust, images fed the body’s cravings. With love, the opposite was true. The emotion rose from the chest and was conveyed through the eyes.

As if she knew a sorcerer’s trick, Claudia imagined that love enveloped her heart. It did not take long for heat to radiate from the organ and flood her body. Slowly she raised her lids and looked directly into Mr Lockhart’s brown eyes.

The sight stole her breath.

Not because he was the most handsome man ever to make her acquaintance, but because she sensed a connection there. The longer she stared at the gold flecks around his pupils—and the longer she imagined loving this man—the more the connection grew.

Mr Lockhart remained rooted to the spot. His breathing grew shallow. While Claudia fought the urge to cup his cheek, she noticed his head moving towards hers. His glance at her lips told her all she needed to know.

“Kissing was not part of the bargain,” she said, pressing her fingers to his lips when he came too close. She dropped her hand and stepped back. “Did you not sense the difference? Did love and lust appear the same to you?”

“Oh, I sensed the difference. But it so happens that both times I thought only of devouring your pretty mouth.”

Claudia sighed. Mr Lockhart reminded her of a naughty boy in the schoolroom.

“And if you accept my proposal,” he continued, “you will have to kiss me at some point. Why not now?”

* * *

Lockhart took pleasure in the look of shock and then annoyance that marred Miss Darling’s delicate features. He had wanted to kiss her the moment she blushed when he offered to massage her toes. No doubt she tasted of everything that was right with the world—of honesty, integrity, of clean and wholesome living.

“Why would I need to kiss you when I have not accepted your proposal?” Her argument drew him from his amorous musings.

She had a point. Even so, a man couldn’t help but try. Well, if he couldn’t kiss her, he might as well tease her. “But you will accept.”

“How do you know I will?”

“Because you have a kind heart, Miss Darling, and because you need the money.”

She appeared both flattered and insulted by his direct reply. “What makes you think I need your money?”

Did she think he was blind and stupid?

He gestured to the tin bucket, to the simple meal still gracing their plates. “You’re struggling to make repairs to the property. You make excuses for the lack of variety when serving supper. And your wardrobe is rather limited, to say the least.” He challenged her to argue with his accurate observations.

“What is wrong with this dress?” She tugged at the striped brown skirt that did little to enhance her figure.

“It’s ugly.”

“It is warm and extremely comfortable.”

“It is too drab for my wife.”

“I am not your wife.”

“Not yet. Admit you need the money. Admit I am the answer to your prayers.” If they were going to tackle his family together, he had to get past her defences. “If we have any hope of helping each other, then there must be honesty between us.”

Miss Darling fell silent.