My Fake Rake - Page 82
The man of science in Seb appreciated the subtle, coded language he and Fredericks were employing—all hallmarks of highly complex societal structures. The instinct-guided man in Seb wanted to ram his fist into Fredericks’s square jaw.
But Grace had warned him from appearing too possessive, too proprietary. And he couldn’t ignore this prime opportunity to praise her to Fredericks.
“An extraordinary person.” Seb fought to make his tone strike the balance between admiration and insouciance. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from adding, “It shocks me that she’s yet to find a gentleman who can fully appreciate her. Every aspect of her.”
He narrowed his eyes, uncaring if he made Fredericks uncomfortable. Hell, the naturalist should feel uncomfortable for ignoring Grace.
“It’s shocking.” Fredericks’s mouth turned down in what appeared, to Seb’s dismay, to be genuine regret. “And I was one of the blind fools who lacked the sagacity to value her as both a colleague and a woman.”
Hell—there Fredericks went again, being decent.
“But,” the naturalist continued, brightening, “I hope to remedy that. Unless,” he went on, “I’m treading in territory that has already been claimed.” He looked pointedly at Seb.
Yes, Seb wanted to bark, she’s mine.
He choked down a coarse oath as understanding struck him.
Seb didn’t think of Grace as his friend. Not anymore. He had . . . feelings for her. Feelings that went beyond platonic. Ever since they’d kissed, he’d been unable to banish the taste of her from his mouth, sweet and delicious.
Only this morning, he’d awakened from dreaming of her. It had been a sensual dream where he sensed her warm breath against his bare chest and shivered beneath her touch as he sank into her and they created endless pleasure together.
God fucking damn it.
This was precisely what he did not want to happen. Yet, despite his repeated warnings to himself, in spite of his intellectual understanding that he could not, should not, desire Grace—he’d gone and done it, anyway.
She wanted Fredericks. Not him. Fredericks was her goal. To subvert that and undermine her would be the height of caddishness.
“Not a bit.” Seb had to give himself credit for not sounding as though he choked the words out. “I do admire her, but, at present, we’re friends.” That wasn’t untrue.
The pleat of concern between Fredericks’s brow smoothed. “Ah. Excellent.” He beamed. “She’s highly regarded within scientific circles, and I eagerly await learning more about her. Beyond her work with reptiles.”
“And amphibians.” Seb waited for Fredericks to wrinkle his nose in disgust that a woman should care about toads and frogs.
Instead, Fredericks nodded eagerly. “Such an intriguing field of study. It’s still in its infancy, you know. We cannot begin to comprehend the scale of discoveries yet to be made.” The naturalist laughed. “Forgive me. I’m enthusiastic about these things.”
“Nothing to be ashamed about.”
“Must be dull for you, to hear me ramble on about the natural realm matters. You’re a . . . I believe Mr. Okafor said you study human societies.”
“I’m an anthropologist, yes.”
“So you’ve no interest in things such as flora and fauna.”
Seb stared levelly at him. “You’d be surprised at what interests me. Not everything is to be judged from its appearance.”
“Quite right. Not the first time I’ve been guilty of failing to look beneath the surface, but,” Fredericks added hopefully, “I intend to remedy it. We share that, Lady Grace and I. A deep, abiding love for the world of nature.”
A dark, angry miasma clung to Seb, and his limbs sizzled with the need to lash out, to break something. Because Fredericks was, in truth, a decent bloke. Though Seb and Grace were both devoted scholars, they didn’t share a discipline, as she did with Fredericks. There would always be a divide between Grace and Seb, a lack of shared passion, unlike her and Fredericks.
He had plenty of money, and was beloved by both the scientific community and society circles.
The naturalist was precisely the right man for Grace. She’d seen that from the beginning.
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