A Most Sinful Proposal (The Husband Hunters Club 2)

And then, quite unexpectedly, she met Jasper and found everything she’d decided to give up on.

He matched her intellectually as well as physically, and he made her smile. She looked forward to his company. She even felt the aches and pains of old age less since they’d become friends. Lady Bethany was feeling young again, like a girl in the throes of her first passion.

She closed her eyes in the shadow of her hat, enjoying the moment. Because for a woman of her years every positive moment was important and must be thoroughly enjoyed.

Valentine was asleep, or so he thought. In his dream he was resting in Marissa’s arms and she was stroking strands of his hair back from his brow, her fingers gentle and soothing. She murmured his name and then kissed him lightly on his lips. It felt so perfect he told himself he didn’t want to wake up, but it was already too late.

He opened his eyes.

She was looking down at him, her dark hair loose about her face, her dark eyes wide in her pale face. She smiled, but even so he sensed her tension.

“I missed you,” she said. “I know we cannot be together in the way I want, not yet, but I thought it wouldn’t matter if we slept in each other’s arms.”

Valentine knew what he should say.

Doubt took away her smile and her lashes drooped. “I’ll go. I’m sorry.”

In answer he pulled her down, tightening his hold on her, drawing her in close against his shoulder, feeling the soft relaxing of her body against his. She was, he couldn’t help but notice, wearing a white nightgown with long sleeves. It was virginal and would act as a reminder to behave himself.

“I prefer you stay,” he admitted, his breath warm in her hair.

“I prefer to stay, too,” she whispered with a sigh.

“Von Hautt—”

She placed a finger across his lips and shook her head, her hair tumbling around them. “Don’t let’s talk about him.” Her gaze was pleading. “Let’s forget about him, just for now.”

He kissed her fingers, and took them in his own. “Are Jasper and your grandmother back yet?”

“Not yet.”

He lay back and closed his eyes, and she snuggled into his arms with obvious pleasure. He held her, forcing his mind away from carnal thoughts, enjoying the closeness. How long was it since he’d held a woman like this?

Too long.

He’d been alone for so many years he’d forgotten the joys of having someone to share his bed and his life with, remembering only the negatives.

She tugged the covers up over them, her limbs tangling with his, her cheek upon his pillow, and smiled sleepily. “What would Morris think if he saw us like this?”

Valentine gave a mock shudder. “Nothing, probably. His expression would be enough to send you screaming back to your room.”

“Morris doesn’t frighten me. He’s very loyal, isn’t he?”

“He’s been with me for a long time. Since my father died. I don’t know how I’d manage without him; he’s like one of the family. There isn’t much about us that Morris doesn’t know.”

“You don’t think Morris could be your spy?”

The idea was shocking. Morris? In cahoots with Von Hautt? It was like suspecting George, and Valentine found he couldn’t do it. He shook his head. “No, not Morris.”

She murmured a reply but he could feel her growing limp as she drifted into sleep. Her breathing deepened. He watched her, sleepy himself, pretending just for a moment that he could have her beside him every night, that this was the beginning of a lifetime with her as his companion. The fantasy wasn’t as difficult to visualize as he’d thought. He’d reached the point where his son was smiling up at him with Marissa’s eyes and he was instructing him in some piece of botanical science, much to Marissa’s disgust, when commonsense put a stop to it.

There was the rose to find and Von Hautt to defeat.

If Morris isn’t the spy, then who?

Doubting his faithful retainers made him feel grubby and he closed his eyes and returned to Marissa instead.

Soon he had followed her into sleep.