Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“He was only in England for two months. How could she have gotten her coils into him?”

Alex must have swept Giana off her feet to get her to the altar in but two months’ time. Derry would not have thought he could do it, though he was a tantalizingly handsome man, the darling of every parent with a daughter of marriageable age in New York.

“Jennifer,” she said, striving for patience, “I do not appreciate your insulting my best friend.” She glanced down the expanse of breakfast table at her stepdaughter. To the best of her knowledge, Alex Saxton, never hapless, had not so much as glanced twice at Jennifer. It was not, she thought, that Jennifer was ill-looking. Indeed, her hair was a lovely chestnut color and her eyes a brilliant gray. But the man who married Miss Lattimer would likely be driven shortly to drink.

“I want to go shopping, Derry. I will not be outdone by that Englishwoman.”

Jennifer, Derry thought, you are not only outdone, you are undone the minute you open your mouth. Still, there was a smile of happy anticipation on Derry’s face when she escaped to her sitting room. She wondered what Giana thought of the marriage bed, with Alexander Saxton in it.

“Is she your mistress, Alex?”

Alex lowered his shoeless foot to the carpet of the master bedroom and bent an eye toward Giana.

“Well, is she?”

He was at first tempted to throw his shoe at her, but the rancor in her voice made him smile. Could it be that his counterfeit wife was jealous?

“I assume you’re speaking of Miss Guthrey?”

“Yes, Miss Amanda Guthrey—very blond, I noticed.”

He smiled at her wickedly. “Ah, and natural, I am certain of it.”

“I will not have your mistress living in my house, Alex. Install her elsewhere, if you wish, but you will at least pretend to be my faithful husband while I am your wife.”

Her face was charmingly flushed, her eyes darkened with anger. “Your house, Giana?”

He saw a cynical wariness return to her eyes, and cursed himself for teasing her. “Come here, Giana,” he said, patting his thigh.

She said in a distant voice, over her shoulder, “I am sorry, Alex. It is not my place to criticize you or anything you may wish to do or continue doing. It is your house. I am but a temporary boarder.”

He rose angrily and strode over to her, one foot still shod. “I was but teasing you, little fool,” he said against the back of her head. “I’m no saint and no celibate, but regardless of any pretense, Giana, I will treat you as my wife. I am not one of your lecherous husbands. God knows, I am from Puritan stock, and it is the most monogamous breed in the world.”

He glided his hands down her arms and gently turned her about to face him. She stared, as if fascinated, at his unbuttoned shirt.

“I had a mistress before I left New York, I have no reason to be ashamed of that fact. But you may be certain that Lucy knows of my marriage and will expect to see me shortly to end our liaison.” He pressed his fingers beneath her chin and forced her face upward. “Do you really believe I would bed my daughter’s governess in my own house?”

Giana sighed. “No.” She raised her hand and dashed it over his forehead. “I do not know why I am being such a harridan. It is just that when I saw the way she looked at you—”

“Jealous, princess?”

“Of course not, Alex. Your overwhelming conceit is showing again.”

“My conceit disappears when you are making love to me, Giana. I can be coaxed into bed, if you’ve a mind for it.”

She was silent for a moment, then whispered, “All you have to do is look at me and I want you. It seems I have as much need as any man.”

“But only for this man, I hope. Let me take off my other shoe, Giana.”

She helped him, giggling, then rose and pressed herself against him. “Please kiss me, Alex.”

He did, tangling his hands in her thick hair. He eased her dressing gown off her shoulders, freeing her breasts. He gently stroked her. “Your breasts are larger,” he said. “Do I hurt you?”

Giana was stroking his thick black hair, trying to arch her back upward to be closer to him. “No,” she said softly. “You are always so gentle. I love for you to touch me.”

He let his hand fall to her belly, his eyes following. It seemed incredible to him that his child could be nestled in her womb, so slight and flat as she was. “You are not even a bit round, Giana.”

She laughed, her stomach muscles tightening beneath his splayed fingers. “I am not even three months pregnant, Alex. Do you wish me to be an ungainly cow so soon?”