Light to Valhalla (28 page)

Rest assured, love, I will not touch you again unless it is upon your request.

Beg? 
Surely not
.
Charlotte Trent Rawlings begged for nothing
.
A reality Alex would soon discover
.

“Did you have anything specific in mind for winning
my husband’s favor
?”

*
             
*
             
*

Nothing
,
Charley
thought, crawling through the
mounds of
winter hay stored in the Grayson loft,
smells more inviting than a barn
.
Save, perhaps
,
for Mrs. Kent’s Lemon butter scones
.
She
momentarily
contemplated whether the two
could even be compared
,
decided barns and scones were entirely different and therefore equal depending upon her mood,
found
a comfortable reading nook just below the peaked window and
settled into the straw.

Charley
sighed, inhaling the
comforting aroma of
dried alfalfa, leather and horse
flesh
.
Below the
everyday
clink of tools and the creak of
well worn
leather
bustled by, oblivious to her presence in the hayloft
.
Obscurity was peaceful, and
of late she experienced far too little
.
She burrowed into her
heavy coat
, crossed her legs in a fashion thoroughly unsuitable for a marchioness and tilted the old book she’d found in the library into the stream of light
sneaking
through the shuttered
window
.
Reading
,
losing herself in someone else’s melodrama—fictional or otherwise—for an hour or two
never failed to soothe
her
frazzled nerves
.

Pushing aside all
thoughts of her
husband
,
she
opened her book,
and gently smoothed
the crease along the spine.

W
hite capped w
aves crashed
against the
slanted timbers,
violently
rocking
the ship
.

Certainly an exciting beginning
.
She plunged on
.

Captain Alexander Hawkins gazed—

Alexander? 
Alexander!

Charley
groaned, dropping
the book
in her lap
.
What a stroke of bad luck to have plucked a book bearing her husband’s name from the shelf
.
Now
every time she read the word an image of her husband—tall, brooding, and dangerously handsome—would pop into her mind
.
She cast a jaded eye downward
.
Alexander
all but
glowed
from the page
.
Gustily she sighed
.
Given the number of times they’d played pirates in this very loft as children a much needed respite would be impossible to glean from
reading this particular book.

Creak.

The
wooden ladde
r propped against the loft groan
ed
in protest
, alerting her to the presence of an intruder
.
Charley
cringed
, hoping the interloper would continue on by,
but, alas, the ladder m
oaned
with each step the trespasser took
.

“
Charley
Trent
,
”
a deep voice
b
oomed
, shooting tremors along her spine
.
“I do believe I’ve found you.”

Charley
sat bolt upright, a flurry of straw raining from
her clothes
.
Her heart dropped
at least a foot, and may have fallen out entirely if the butterflies in her stomach hadn’t flown up to catch it
.
“
Alex!”

“In the flesh.
”
He
grinned mischievously,
dragging a leisurely gaze
across her straw covered figure before
joining her in the hayloft.

Her breath caught
.
Heavens!  Did he have to look so remarkably good?
 
As though the dashing Captain
Hawkins
had stepped from a page in her no
vel? 
Not once had
Alex
looked more of a pirate in their games than he did now
.
Framed
beneath the slanted barn roof
, her husband looked magnificent in a simple white law
n shirt and tan breeches, very
rugged, in fact, with his sleeves rolled to the elbows exposing muscular forearms
.
Veins ran from his thick, roughened hands, up his arms while taught sinew and lean corded muscle shifted powerfully beneath his thin shirt with even the minutest movement
.
Alex strode easily forward, and rather than deter from his devastating effect, the subtle limp only added to the roguish quality of his appeal
.
A ray of sunlight captured hi
s face, illuminating eyes
so intense one could not look directly into the de
pths without growing unsettled—
she
was ce
rtainly unsettled
.

“
My g
od
,
look at you,” he teased
, oblivious to her distress
.
“
A book, boy’s breeches, and those ancient boots
.
Have I gone back in time?
”
He
knelt in the straw before her, a
perfectly crooked grin split
ting
his
handsome
face
.
“Beneath all those fancy clothes and stuffy manners I knew you were still in there.”

“My manners are n
ot stuffy,” she protested
.

“
Of course
your manners are stuffy
.
I’m quite sure it is a criterion
of
becoming
marchioness.”

“Then I’
m quite certain I make
a terrible marchioness.”

A smile rolled across Alex’s perfectly molded lips
.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.
”

Her heart floundered
.
She opened her mouth
to speak
, but found suitable riposte just beyond reach
.

To win a man’s favor,
her mother’s
instructions skipped through her head,
you must not give him what he wants too easily
.
Make him work for the object of his desire, you, and he’
ll grow to more than want it
.
He’ll covet it.

S
ound advice
.
Or so she hoped.

H
e
reached into
her lap
, lifting
the leather bound book
.
Thick knuckles grazed her
inner
thigh,
the bare touch sending shockwaves through her system
.
She gulped,
her mother’s
voice
flood
ing
her mind
again,
Be
cool and collected
.
If you’re
nervous
and jittery
he’ll know he has you exactly where he wants you
.
Control the situation.

Charley
schooled her features impassively and ignored the tingles
running along her thigh
.
Control
.

“
Still reading about romance
and driv
e
l
?
”
Al
e
x
teased, obviously
unaware of her distress
.

She snatched the book back out of his hands
, raising her chin in mock pertness
.
“
I
make a point never to read driv
el
, and romantic tale
s
are
very diverting.”

“Diverting,
pah
!
  More like an absolute waste of time
and paper
.
C
ome now, you don’t really believe in
all
that happily ever
after
nonsense
and hokum
?
”

“
There is nothing
wrong with believing
in happy endings
.
”
Not that her life had given her any reason to
.
“Don’t you?”

Alex scoffed
.
“My
profession hardly promotes belief in anything other than the
absolute
truths of life.
”
Though his tone rem
ained light, a distinct chord of melancholy touched the words
.

Charley
shifted in the
straw,
facing her husband directly
.
The dim light of the loft cast shadows over his handsome face, making his eyes unreadable
.
“And what are the truths of life, Alex?”

“
Sickness
.
Disease
.
Death.
”
He twirled a piece of straw between thumb and forefinger, contemplating the
golden strand
.
“Life is hard.”

“Did you come here to tell me how miserable our lives will be together?
”
Charley
wrapped her arms around her legs and propped her chin on her knees
.
“
I was rather hoping for a happy ending
.
For us.
”

Her husband stilled
, his A
dam’s apple bobbed, and for a moment he looked as unsettled as she
.
Their eyes locked and the air grew thick between them
.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he said suddenly
.
“And this morning.
”
He covered his face with his hands and
flopped back in the straw
.
“
Hell, I’m sorry for the last three years
.”

“Not all of this is
your fault
,
Alex
.
I’ve done nothing but run or push you away since you’ve come home
.
Not so very brave of me.
”

“True, but,” a
self deprecating
smirk
tugged at his lips,
“m
y behavior has been reprehensible
.
L
eaving you to live alone with my mother should condem
n me to at least the fourth circle
of hell
.
A
true
gentleman would have leased you your own house.
”

“Come now.
”
Charley
giggled
.
“Sure
ly she’s not s
o horrible as to condemn you to
hell.
”
She flashed an impish smile
.
“Purgatory perhaps.”

Abruptly
,
Alex rolled to his knees, catching her face in his hands
.
Charley
’s
heart skipped a beat
.
Smokey
blue
eyes bore into hers
, searching, and
filled with such burning passion it robbed her of breath
.
“There you are,”
he murmured, dragging a roughened thumb across her lips
.
“When you smile that way
,
”
h
is gaze
dropped to her mouth,
“
as though you have a secret hidden from the world,
I see you again
.
My
Charley
.
I
-I
feared I’d lost you.”