An Indecent Proposition (22 page)

“I scaled the wall of my own uncle’s town house and risked breaking my neck.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Does that tell you it’s important?”

Annabel lifted her chin, still clutching her nightgown together at the neck as if he were a blackguard and might pounce on her. “I can’t imagine what we have to say to each other. I’m engaged, and you’re . . .
you
.”

It stung, especially when said in such a scathing tone.

In a lethal voice, he said, “Yes, I am. A man. One who has the normal failings of every other man.”

“Normal? Not all men fornicate indiscriminately with every female they might stumble across.” She rose, pacing to the opposite corner of the room to whirl to face him. Her eyes, so lovely and blue, were full of both accusation and outrage. “Whatever you came here for, you aren’t going to find it. I lost all faith in you a year ago
and
I realize to begin with that faith was misplaced. I know now how naive and foolish I was to fall in love with you at all, but I’m not the same besotted innocent I was.”

Derek felt his chest constrict in rejection of the notion. He involuntarily took a step forward. “He’s compromised you?”

She flushed crimson at the accusation in his voice. “Of course not. If you mean Alfred, he never would. Not everyone is like
you
.”

There was that word again, flung at him like a barbed arrow. Relief surged through him anyway. No, Hyatt hadn’t touched her, hence the man’s resentment and suspicion during their not-so-companionable drink. Derek had no perspective when it came to her, no distance.

Her contempt made him cringe inwardly, though he hoped he didn’t show it. He gritted out, “I’m no saint. I’ve never claimed to be one. But neither am I without a conscience. That’s why I am here now. I’ve never had the opportunity to apologize for what happened except on paper and it apparently isn’t enough for you.”

“Happened?” Arched blond brows rose.

“In the library,” he clarified in brusque explanation.

“Oh.” The one-word reply was cold as a stone in winter.

A low breeze rustled the curtains behind his back. He said with quiet intonation, “I kissed you. Do you remember?”

He knew she did. She knew
he
knew it. Annabel’s eyes flashed. “As a matter of fact, I do remember that day.
All
of it.”

“I hurt you.” It was a soft observation.

“Don’t flatter yourself, my lord.”

She was lying if she denied it. As much as he’d seen her wide-eyed happiness after the kiss, he remembered in full measure the blanched horrified look on her face as she’d stumbled out of the conservatory where she’d found him with Isabella. It didn’t really matter, he supposed, that he hadn’t actually done more at that point than give Isabella his regrets and leave. The damage had already been done. It hadn’t been an auspicious evening. Isabella had been most vocal over her seething disappointment at his withdrawal after Annabel had run from the room crying. If it was possible to feel more like a worthless cad, he wasn’t sure how. He’d taken a bottle of brandy to bed that night, but not Lady Bellvue.

Fighting for a calm he didn’t really feel, he said, “That is what we need to discuss, Annie. Both the kiss and what happened afterward, for they are directly related to each other.”

“I can’t see how one simple kiss could be related to your sordid, disgusting behavior later.” Her hair shimmered in the illumination from a single lamp, the fair strands framing her fragile features. Dark blue eyes stared at him with overt accusation.

“I know I disillusioned you, but it wasn’t intentional. Besides, that kiss was anything but simple and we both know it.”

Her lips trembled just a fraction. “Just one in a thousand for you, I’m sure. Please don’t try to tell me it was meaningful in any way. I
saw
you later, Derek. And from all accounts, you haven’t exactly lived a monkish life since then either. Irate husbands everywhere could give credence to that supposition if Lord Tanner is an example. When that story surfaced, I admit, I wasn’t surprised.”

“I’ve never aspired to sainthood. All I can say is the Tanner affair didn’t involve me. It never did. I’m not sure what else you’ve heard, but believe me, what I have done the most this past year is think about you.”

“All because of one kiss? Forgive my skepticism but know it is hard earned.”

Hoping she could hear the sincerity in his voice, he told her the truth. “That kiss changed my life.”

 

How could he do this to her? This last week had been torture, because Derek suddenly seemed to be everywhere, impossible to ignore—and now this? He was right. Annabel deliberately avoided him as much as possible because the last thing she wanted was to be reminded of her ill-fated infatuation with the faithless, notorious Earl of Manderville.

But there was certainly no avoiding him now. Not when he stood there, in her bedroom of all places, the stark masculine beauty of his face shadows and hollows in the low light, his thick blond hair brushing the collar of a fine linen shirt that emphasized the impressive width of his shoulders. Black breeches and Hessians called attention to the long length of his legs, but he wore no coat or cravat for his risky climb.

That he’d done it at all was bewildering, and his last declaration had her speechless.

Derek repeated in the same husky tone, “That kiss—the one that never should have happened—changed my life, Annie. On my honor, I swear it’s true.”

Did he just use the word
honor
?

Because the memory was so painful still, like a raw wound that refused to heal properly, she said with bitter conviction, “I am sure you could tell any manner of untruths with your honor offered as proof of your conviction. Since it doesn’t exist.”

His mouth tightened a fraction and she knew she’d drawn blood. “I suppose I am not surprised you have a low opinion of me, because you’ve made it clear enough. But we’ve also known each other a long time, so can’t you give me the courtesy of hearing me out?” His eyes, so vividly blue, held an uncharacteristic look of supplication. “Surely you’re curious as to what I have to say that is important enough I’d risk my neck to tell you.”

She was, but admitting it seemed like a weakness. His ability to charm was not in question.

Besides, she lied outright about the letter.

The uncertain thing was her ability to resist. Perhaps she wasn’t even close to his degree of sophistication and experience, but she was at least intelligent enough to realize it and know it was foolhardy to let down her guard for even one moment. Derek Drake was dangerous to her current state of tenuous contentment over her upcoming marriage. “No,” she lied. “I’m not in the least bit curious.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “My family—and I—have provided for you all these years and it should count for something.”

“That’s not fair.” She stiffened, staring at him. “Is it my fault I was orphaned?”

“No, of course not.” His implacable expression didn’t change. “But I think I am a bit beyond fair. You at least owe me a chance to speak. Shall we talk?”

He was the earl, his title making him ultimately responsible in a financial way for the estate that she considered her home, and yes, his family had been more than generous to her; she knew it. If not for his sake, for Thomas and Margaret she owed him something. Ungraciously, she inclined her head. “Fine.”

A ghost of his usual beautiful smile hovered on his mouth. “First I am reduced to begging, and then blackmail.”

“Just say whatever it is you think is so blasted important and then leave. If anyone found you in my bedroom at any hour, even fully dressed, I would be ruined.”

Unfortunately, that was all too true. As accommodating as Alfred was, she doubted even he would understand.

Thus given permission, Derek seemed to hesitate. After a moment, he said simply, “Nothing that happened that day was as I intended. I didn’t intend to kiss you, and later, I didn’t intend to so much as touch Isabella Bellvue—and that was as far as it went. If you recall, I’d been avoiding her for days.”

She did recall the flirtatious countess because she’d watched jealously as Lady Bellvue shamelessly pursued Derek with such blatant purpose that even a seventeen-year-old ingenue couldn’t miss it. “You certainly weren’t avoiding her that evening in the conservatory,” she said acerbically.

“That’s because I’d kissed you earlier.”

“I’ve never heard anything so nonsensical in my life.”

“No? Well, listen on.” His voice held a sort of grim amusement. “If you want nonsensical, I can provide it. That afternoon, when I held you in my arms, I realized I had only one choice when it came to you, and that was to retreat or proceed with honorable intentions. I am not trying to hide that the idea of the latter thoroughly rattled me. When Isabella approached me later, I was still trying to deny I had to make a decision. The notion my life was going to change so dramatically wasn’t easy to acknowledge. I am not the first man to shy away from the idea of love, much less marriage.”

Did he—Derek Drake, infamous for his detachment—just use the words
love
and
marriage
in the same sentence?

What’s more, she well remembered the look on his face before he left the library so abruptly. There was a possibility he was even telling the truth.

He went on. “I suppose I thought an interlude with a willing woman might cure my momentary madness.”

The realization her heart had begun to pound faster was irritating. “Did it?” she asked in as cool a tone as possible, but her palms were damp. There was a set to his mouth she’d never seen before and though he was still imposingly tall and all too male, there was a hint of vulnerability to a man she’d always seen as invincible.

It was the very last thing she needed.

He said quietly, “No. As I just said, nothing more happened than what you saw. When you left the room, I did as well. Isabella was incensed, believe me.”

Annabel snapped, “Forgive me for not having a lot of sympathy for her. Still, what happened already seemed like more than enough to me. She was half-undressed and you were . . .” She stopped, embarrassed. Undoubtedly he’d touched the breasts of so many women the event held no significance for him.

To her chagrin, he understood the falter in her speech for what it was. “That’s because you are still so innocent, which is part of our problem. Trust me, there is a lot more.”

“Trust you? Please. Besides, we don’t have a mutual problem. There is nothing we share.” She spit out each word deliberately.

“Come on, Annie, that isn’t true.” The expression on his face was stark, almost accusing. “You avoid me. God knows I’ve tried to stay away from you. It isn’t working. Not for either of us. Other people have noticed. Your fiancé has noticed, for God’s sake.”

“Leave Alfred out of this . . . ridiculous discussion. I am not sure why we are having it in the first place.” Her hands curled into fists and her stomach felt strange, as if she’d swallowed something indigestible. “How could you possibly know what he thinks anyway?”

“Men have a more direct way of communicating than women.” His smile was faint and ironic. “Usually if there is something on our minds, we simply ask to settle the matter. If the answer isn’t to our liking, we sometimes use our fists or pistols at dawn. Barbaric, I know, but we tend to be more straightforward in our dealings with the world around us.”

Annabel stared at him. “He asked you about me? About . . .”

“Us?” he supplied. “I’m afraid so.”

Yes, her stomach definitely felt queasy. “What did you tell him?”

Derek lifted a brow in an infuriating arch. “Nothing. I’m a gentleman, despite your opinion to the contrary.”

“You truly expect me to believe that?”

“What else can I offer but the truth? It’s why I am here.”

He just stood there, still impossibly handsome even without his notable charm in evidence. Instead the expression on his face was exposed, open, nothing like his usual lazy charismatic allure.

There was no doubt her knees had begun to wobble. Annabel did her best to look composed, but in reality, her mind was whirling. “Let me see if I understand what you have gone to such great lengths to tell me. After you kissed me that afternoon, you worried any further dalliance would put you in peril of having to do the unthinkable and marry me, and so instead, you callously used another woman to assuage your lust. Am I correct?”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his thick hair. How it could make him even more attractive to have it rumpled she wasn’t sure, but it somehow seemed to happen. “Put that way, it certainly sounds bad enough. You aren’t going to make this easy on me, are you? And as I said, I didn’t assuage anything.”

“Is there some reason I should make this easy on you?”

“I behaved in an abominable fashion, so I suppose not.”

Acutely conscious of her state of undress, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Finally there is a point we agree on.”

“Annie, I love you.”

She stopped breathing.

Damn him, she thought dimly, he should not still be able to do this to her.

But he could. God help her, he could.

“I love you,” he repeated softly. “It’s all I think about and quite frankly, it is driving me mad. It took me a year and your damned engagement to realize the depths of it, but I swear to you it is true.”

Blindly she groped her way toward her dressing table and sat down. Inhaling a deep shuddering breath, she asked, “Is that why you placed a wager in front of all of fashionable society that you were the most talented lover in England? That sort of boast does not come from a man who would ever be faithful to only one woman.”

“On the contrary, it is exactly the sort of idiotic behavior produced by the infamous emotion I just declared for you, my dear.” His smile was rueful. “In this case, it was inspired by the announcement of your engagement in the paper. For a long time I’d been trying to come to grips with not only my feelings but the idea I’d alienated you so completely, and there in print was proof I’d never have the chance to do anything about either problem. Throw a good deal of claret into the situation, and a man might just do something quite stupid.”