Tempting Mr. Townsend (Dashing Widows 2)

He commended her courage—and honesty. His laugh was wry. "That will be difficult if those two hellions continue to be best friends."

"We could try." Desperation edged her soft voice.

When he caught her trembling hand, the contact of skin on skin made her start as if he'd burned her. "Or we could see where this takes us."

She made a halfhearted attempt to pull away. "You mistake me. I don't want a lover."

"Why?"

She stared at him in helpless confusion. "I have a son to consider."

He smiled faintly and brought her hand to his lips. She gave another of those starts. "You're a woman with needs and feelings. Aren't you lonely, Fenella? Don't you miss a man's kisses, the touch of his hand, a warm body to cling to in the night?"

Not long ago she'd been pink as a sunset. Now she was pale as milk. "Stop it."

"No." His grip firmed. "Stay with me."

She stiffened and spoke in a cold voice. "I'm not going to your bed with my son in the house."

He smiled faintly. "I'm not expecting your capitulation tonight—however nice it would be."

"Mr. Townsend—"

"Anthony."

"Mr. Townsend, this serves no purpose. I'm sorry I admitted my…my penchant."

"I'm not."

Her eyes narrowed, although unwilling amusement tugged at her lips. "It's like listening to your nephew wheedling to leave Eton. You're incorrigible."

"I'm enchanted. Stay and get to know me. Get to know Carey. Spend a few stolen days with Brand. I promise I won't put any pressure on you."

He saw she was tempted. "I can easily take Brand back with me tomorrow."

"Do you really mean to split the lads up, just because our attraction frightens you?"

"Emotional blackmail won't force me into your bed, sir."

"Anthony."

"And I didn't give you permission to call me Fenella."

"Lady Deerham is a prisoner of her sad past. Fenella, on the other hand, is warm and lovely and within reach."

"So call me Lady Deerham," she said crossly. "I see why you've succeeded in business. You browbeat your poor customers into submission."

"Does that mean you consent?"

She drew herself up and ripped her hand from his. "No, it means I'd appreciate the loan of a carriage tomorrow morning so I can return to London and do my best to scotch any talk."

"Will you leave Brand here?"

She regarded him uncertainly. "Common sense says it's best to sever all ties."

"So Brand pays the price for your cowardice?"

Her expression turned mutinous. "You're doing it again."