Far Too Tempted (7 page)

“No.” She shook her head in fearful denial, her hair brushing her shoulders and back. For a moment she even forgot her dishabille.

“Yes.” Unequivocal conviction filled his voice. “I bought and paid for every inch of it.”

“That can’t be.” Her throat felt clogged, full. She couldn’t breathe. Robert couldn’t, surely he wouldn’t…

Alex’s smile was full of weary cynicism. “Think about it, Jess. Look at this place. Nothing is left but the grounds and the house. No stock, no furniture, not one servant. It can be. It is. Robert sold it to me.”

Despite herself, she began to shake, to tremble so violently she was afraid she would let go of her ruined clothing and humiliate herself further. Her brother had sold their family home and worst of it was, she believed Alex was telling the truth.

“Jess?” Alex straightened and took a step toward her in alarm.

Then she fled, stumbling, running like a madwoman through the blackness of the hallway.

Alex propped his booted feet on the desk and took another hearty sip of brandy.

This had turned into one hell of a night, he thought wryly.

In one fell swoop he’d managed to frighten Jessica nearly to death, rip her clothes off, and then render the news that she was homeless in an extremely insensitive manner. Not to mention their interesting tussle at the top of the stairs. It probably wasn’t too surprising she had locked herself in one of the bedrooms and did not answer his knock.

The worse part of it was he felt a cowardly relief that he didn’t have to explain her brother’s actions.

He wanted to avoid her and the inevitable telling of the truth as long as possible.

So he’d retreated downstairs without much of an argument and discovered to his relief that Robert had at least prudently left his study untouched, complete with port, tobacco and a full bottle of the finest brandy. With an assessing gaze, he saw the room as he remembered it in the soft glow of the lamp he’d found on top of the mantel—a rosewood desk, tall bookcases with dusty unused volumes and leather chairs by the fireplace. He’d opened the window and let the soft night air waft inside, dispelling the musty, disused smell.

If he couldn’t have a bed and soft blankets, at least he could drink himself to sleep in a room that was civilized and comfortable.

“Tell me, did he really sell you the house or did he lose it in a game of dice or cards?”

The sound of the cool interruption made Alex straighten, his feet sliding off the desk with a thump as he quickly rose in automatic politesse. Jessica stood in the doorway, her pale face and trembling mouth belying the defiant tilt of her chin. She was dressed in a blue gown, but her hair still tumbled in loose, burnished mahogany waves down her back, and she was barefoot.

She had changed—he couldn’t help but think with an unwanted twinge of astonishment—so much. Four years were as nothing, yet a gap as wide as the ocean. The caterpillar was gone, replaced with an exquisite butterfly.

God, she was beautiful. Her features were delicate and perfectly formed, her skin smooth and unblemished, her eyes large and framed by dark lush lashes. As he knew well after their encounter on the stairs, she’d matured in an unsettling fashion, her natural slenderness emphasizing the fullness of her breasts and gentle curve of her hips.

He smiled crookedly. “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me. I believe you banished me to a place no lady should order someone to go.”

Her gray eyes flashed and her chin tipped higher. “You’re the only one who can tell me what’s going on, so I’ve changed my mind.”

He gave a brief bow. “Always a woman’s prerogative.”

“Answer my question. I need to know what happened.” The bitter edge in her voice was sharp as the blade of a knife.

He gave her an even glance and motioned to one of the leather wing chairs. “All right. Sit down.”

Her gaze was icy. “I prefer to stand.”

Away from him. Across the room in the doorway, with the vast emptiness of the stripped house behind her. In her pale blue dress, she stood defiant. That’s right, he’d almost forgotten, she hated him. She might have changed, but that had not.

He said deliberately, “Well, I don’t, and I was raised to stand in the presence of a lady. I’m dead tired and my shoulder feels like it’s on fire. Sit down, Jess, or I won’t tell you a thing. If we are going to have this conversation, it is going to be a civilized affair without fists, fireplace pokers or insults. Understand?”

Her soft mouth tightened. “I’m not a child.”

“No,” he agreed readily—too readily. “You are not a child any longer. I concede the point.”

There was no question she understood the innuendo. Her cheeks grew pink as she stared at him. Then, as if to prove she wasn’t afraid of him, she walked across the room and sank gracefully into one of the chairs facing the desk, tucking her bare feet under her sweeping skirts.

He poured a fair measure from the brandy bottle into a crystal glass and reached over to hand it to her.

“I don’t want that,” she objected, sitting very upright, refusing it.

“Take it. Trust me, you might need it.”

Her fingers closed around the glass. “But I haven’t eaten since…”

He stopped in the act of releasing the glass, their fingers almost touching. Alex stared at her. “Since when? Are you hungry? I’m sure I—”

“Don’t pretend to be concerned.”

He couldn’t control how his face tightened in annoyance. “I wasn’t pretending.”

“Never mind. Just give it to me.” She accepted the snifter and cupped it in her slender fingers. “I am sure if you looked around at all you’d also doubt there is a scrap of food left here anyway. I’ll survive.”

Yes, she would. Jessica had always had a remarkable spirit and sense of independence. That he could not deny.

So he might as well just tell her plainly.

Alex sank back down. “All right, the truth is simple. Your brother sold me the house to cover his most immediate debts. I was in London on my way back here from Spain and heard he was planning to sell it, so I made him an offer. He accepted it. The papers have been signed. He glossed over the extent of the desecration as far as the furnishings go when he listed the contents of the house, but he probably didn’t want to admit it and chance I might back out.”

Jessica didn’t blink at the explanation. Now that the initial shock had passed, she wasn’t surprised, he realized. It was easy to imagine that long ago she ceased to expect much from her brother. For that, he silently cursed Robert.

She said in a brittle little voice, “Well, I suppose I should be glad he didn’t wager it on a hand of cards.”

“Essentially, he did. He was in deep trouble, Jess.” He watched her take a cautious sip of brandy. “I’ve known a few men like him, men who couldn’t seem to control it, to stop the addiction. They are so sure the next card or toss of the dice will go their way. The excitement consumes them and they seem to lose perspective. Robert has always been one of those men. It was different when we were green boys in school and all he had was an allowance to squander. With a fortune at his carte blanche, I believe he could not control himself.”

Her eyes were shadowed. “I see. Did you buy the townhouse in London as well?”

“No. I don’t need it. I have my own apartments at the ducal residence there. I prefer the country anyway.”

Her lashes lowered slightly. “But it’s gone, isn’t it? The townhouse…no doubt everything. He must have sold it all before he would sell the estate. Just tell me the truth.”

He hesitated and then sighed. “Yes. From what I understand, you’re right.”

“What does he think we’re going to do?”

Alex leaned back in his chair. “Why are you worried? You are going to be married.”

Her averted profile was lovely, pure with a rare, ethereal, classic beauty. Her lips tightened and she stared at her glass. “I am supposed to be. I don’t suppose my dowry is left.”

“Would Greene be so shallow as to cry off because you no longer have a marriage portion?”

That brought her head up, those gray eyes flashing at his insinuation. She gave him a haughty look. “No, of course not. I was simply thinking aloud. Nathaniel is honorable, something you know nothing about. But our wedding date isn’t even set. Where does Robert expect us to live in the meantime if he’s sold both houses?”

Alex was silent, looking at her as he sipped his drink. Lord, it was late, he was damned tired, and all this should not have to be his problem.

Jessica took an audible swallow of brandy and finally asked him the question he’d been dreading. “Where is Robert, Alex? If he’s sold everything, even the estate, where is he?”

Oh, how he hated telling her.

Heavily, Alex confessed, “He’s gone.”

Jessica blinked. “Gone? Where?”

“To America. Selling everything wasn’t enough. He escaped his creditors by leaving the country. He…can’t come back, Jess. He’s gone for good.”

Silence. It stretched onward. She looked more than shocked. She looked damaged. Her fine features blanched and her slender throat worked in protest.

Bloody hell. He needed to say something, hopefully the right thing. How he wished his sister-in-law, Ariel, were there to soothe Jessica’s wounded feelings, to offer her the right consolation. He was sure as hell the wrong substitute. For the past four years he had lived with hardened soldiers, not innocent young women.

In lieu of the right words, he said nothing. The short silence was an eternity.

“He left me here all alone.” It was a statement, quiet and hopeless and full of aching dignity. “Our parents are dead, he’s my only family, and he just left me.”

Alex felt his heart tighten at her obvious anguish. “I’m sure he didn’t want to do it, but you know Robert—”

Her head came up. “Damn you, Alex, don’t defend him. Not now, not after this.” One small fist smote her knee. Her glare would have melted icebergs.

“Only if you won’t measure your self-worth by the selfishness of one weak man,” he shot back, irritated by her open hostility.

“My self-worth,” she said heatedly, “is perfectly intact. Unlike some people I know who have to have everything in skirts to assure themselves they are a man.”

So, they were back to that. She might be homeless, she might be destitute and hurting, but she was still unforgiving. There was certainly nothing wrong with her memory.

Well, he thought defensively, she needed to learn that if verbal sparring was her choice, in that arena he was much, much more experienced. He gave her a calculated amused stare. “Not everything in skirts,” he rejoined pleasantly. “But thanks for the vote of confidence. I simply haven’t had the time. If you recall, I’ve been fighting a war.”

Her face whitened. “Go to hell.”

“I once warned you about your unladylike language. Don’t swear in front of me again, Jess. And believe me, I’ve been to hell.”

“You have no right to tell me anything about manners. Or anything else, for that matter.”

“I do, when you are in my house.”

It was an unfair shot that certainly hit home. She seemed to freeze, to go very still. Her eyes were huge pools in the pale oval of her face. Her breasts heaved under the very demure material of her plain gown.

A twinge of guilt shot through him but he ignored it.

“I am going to bed.” She set aside her empty brandy glass and got to her feet a little unsteadily. “Feel free to leave now for Grayston.”

“I am not going anywhere.” He made the declaration in a lazy voice.

“We can’t stay here together.” Her outrage was a tangible thing.

“You shouldn’t be here alone either. What if I
had
been an intruder?”

“Better alone than with you. It is most improper.”

“Depends on your point of view.”

“My point of view is that you should leave right now.” She stood there in regal dismissal.

“My point of view is that this is my house and I’m staying.”

“Then I’ll leave.”

“Not in the middle of the night, you won’t.”

“Try and stop me.” Jessica turned and squared her shoulders. “You have no hold over me. As I understand it, I am entirely on my own.”

“Jess.” His voice was lethally soft and he stirred in the chair. “I’m just going to say this once. As I’ve pointed out, I am tired. Very tired, if you want the truth. I am perfectly willing to let you have the bed upstairs but not willing to follow you out into the night to make sure you’re safe, which is what I’d be honor-bound to do.”

“Honor? You must be joking. Who could have less honor than you?”

With effort he clamped down on a surge of icy anger over the continued barrage of insults. “Plenty of men, I’m afraid. In any case, you’re here, and that is a fact. I’m here, and that is another fact. No one knows we’re here alone and the staff I hired won’t arrive until midday tomorrow. The only thing for both of us to do is to get whatever sleep we can and we’ll sort out the mess later. I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can come up with at this late hour.”

“It’s out of the question. One of us is leaving.”