All About Passion (Cynster 7)

It took a moment to locate her in the moon-streaked dimness. She was on the other side of the bed, in an armchair pulled to face the window. She flicked him a glance. As he rounded the bed, he saw her surreptiously dab at her eyes.

He stopped behind the chair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She glanced back and up at him. “Tell you what?”

Her voice was thick, her puzzlement genuine.

He set his jaw. “You’re pregnant.”

Her wide-eyed look told him she’d known, but had, at least momentarily, forgotten. She twisted to partially face him. “I… wasn’t sure. It’s only been a few weeks…”

They’d been married seven weeks.

The clash of his emotions was so powerful he swayed, physically shaken, emotionally at sea. The future had just become so much more dangerous-so much more precious. To him.

What did it mean to her?

The huge eyes that stared up at him, green even in the poor light, were overbright. She was watching him, waiting…

He couldn’t think. His mind was streaking in a dozen directions, panicked, reeling. He had to keep her safe, had to take her out of danger. He looked into her eyes. He couldn’t explain-couldn’t find the words, couldn’t force them past the vise locked about his heart. Couldn’t face his vulnerability. He’d let her think he was rejecting her. If he now asked for her company, would she reject him? Possibly. If he ordered her, would she go? No. Yet he had to get her away. Had to.

He drew in a huge breath, mentally girded his loins. Curtly, he nodded. “I’ll be leaving for London in the morning.”

Her lips parted in shock. Then her breasts swelled; her gaze kindled. “Indeed? Am I to take it you’re invoking our agreement?”

“Yes.” The shadows hid his deception. “We go our separate ways.” He turned as if to recross to his room.

“Wait!” The word resonated with fury, hot now, not cold. He turned back as she scrambled from the chair. “If you’re going to London, then so am I!”

He held his breath, searched for the right tone. “I wasn’t aware you had any acquaintances in town.”

“I’m looking forward to making some.” Her voice purred with anger. She tilted her chin. “I’m sure there’ll be many eager to befriend your countess.”

He managed not to react. Managed to coldly incline his head. “As you say.”

He thought he heard her teeth grind. “I do say!” She flung her hands in the air. “I’ve offered you more than you required, more than you looked for in our marriage. I’ve been understanding and patient-how patient I’ve been!”

She started to pace, flinging words at him. “I have not made demands, I have not pressed you-I’ve waited, self-effacing, for you to come to your senses! And have you? No! You set your path-designed our marriage-before you even met me. Yet although the potential’s far greater than you imagined, will you rescript your views? No! You’re too pigheaded to change your mind, even when it’s in your best interests!”

Her skirts whirled as she rounded on him, eyes afire, hands dramatically flying. “Very well! If you’re so insensible as to turn your back on what might be, so be it! Go back to London and your scintillating mistresses! But I won’t be left here, immured in your castle. I’m coming to London, too-and I fully intend to enjoy myself as I please.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose.”

She didn’t wait for an answer but swung away. Fury shimmered in the air about her. She halted, her back to him. Folding her arms, she stared at the window.

Gyles let a moment pass-it would be unwise to agree too quickly-then said, coldly and evenly, “As you wish. I’ll give orders that you’ll accompany me tomorrow.”

Throughout her tirade, he’d held to the shadows. He’d schemed and got what he wanted, what he needed-and rather more besides. The story of their marriage.

He heard her sniff. Without turning, she inclined her head in haughty agreement. Face set, he crossed to the door to his room. Opening it, he saw Wallace, waiting patiently.

“Her ladyship and I will leave for London as early as possible tomorrow. We anticipate taking up residence in the capital for the immediate future. See to it.”

Wallace bowed. “Indeed, sir.” He considered for only a moment. “I believe we can be ready to depart by eleven o’clock.”

Gyles nodded. “You may go-I won’t need you again tonight.”

Wallace bowed again. Gyles watched him go, then turned-and discovered Francesca close beside him. He shut the door. “Satisfied?”