Two Shades of Seduction (51 page)

“Julia is a widow, Devlyn.” His friend turned his head to eye Morgan with surprise, and Morgan’s jaw locked with tension under his friend’s assessing gaze. “She’s also one of my investors.”

“Indeed.” The one word echoed with a dozen unasked questions, and Devlyn turned back to Julia. “Tell me Mrs. Westgard, what the devil possessed you to invest in this notorious rake’s company?”

“At the moment, I’m not exactly sure.” Julia shot Morgan a glance of exasperation. “If I’d know precisely how autocratic the man could be, I think I would have thought twice about buying an interest in St. Clair Shipping.”

Her words made Devlyn laugh loudly. The unexpected sound reverberated in the office, and Morgan saw Julia start with surprise. Devlyn shook his head as he eyed Morgan with great amusement.

“Is it possible there’s one woman in the world that
hasn’t
fallen under your spell, Morgan?” his friend joked.

“Julia’s irritated with me because I refused an invitation on her behalf.”

“I see,” Devlyn sent Morgan a look of incredulity. “Sophie would have my head if I tried to do that.”

“Beresford was the one extending the invitation.” Morgan clasped his hands behind his back and experienced a surge of satisfaction as Delyn’s face darkened with disgust. At least one person in the room thought his actions were justified.

“That reprobate?” Devlyn turned back to Julia. “Although it may have been presumptuous on St. Claire’s part Mrs. Westgard, he made the right decision. Beresford is an utter cad.”

“So my cousin told me at supper last night.” Julia turned toward Morgan to offer him a hesitant smile. “I thought I would take her advice and express my regret at having doubted Morgan’s intentions.”

An apology. Morgan stared at her in amazement. A slight tinge of pink flooded her cheeks as she met his gaze. The contrite look on her lovely face made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her for having been so courageous. He was certain it had cost her a great deal to do so. Julia quickly averted her gaze from him and turned her attention back to Devlyn.

“Since I’ve done what I came to do, I’ll leave the two of you to continue your discussion.” She shot a brief glance toward Morgan and nodded at Devlyn before she moved quickly to the office door. Morgan started to go after her, but his friend moved faster.

“Mrs. Westgard, a moment if you please.” Devlyn took her hand in his. “I wonder if you might do me a favor.”

“A favor?” Although she hid it well, there was cool suspicion in her voice. Devlyn seemed oblivious to it, but Morgan heard crackling as she surrounded herself with an icy layer of reserve.

“You see, my wife doesn’t have many friends in London, and I think you and she would get along quite well.” The smile Devlyn sent her made Morgan’s stomach clench as Julia smiled back, a distinct expression of relief flitting across her face.

“Oh…why of course. If you’ll give me your address, I’d be happy to call on her.”

“Actually, I was thinking perhaps you might join us for supper this Friday night. I know Sophie would be delighted to have you come.”

“Supper? Oh, I—”

“Then you’ll come.” Devlyn paused as he waited for Julia to give way to his determination. When she nodded, he smiled. “Excellent. Shall we say seven-thirty? We’re at twelve Curzon Street.”

The confusion on Julia’s face made it clear she wasn’t certain how she’d agreed to a dinner engagement. She looked adorable in her bewilderment, and Morgan bit back a smile as Devlyn kissed her hand then held the office door open for her. Julia hesitated for a brief moment as if she was going to say something then with a slight shake of her head she left the office.

As the door closed behind her, Devlyn turned around and grinned. “I believe you’re expected at our house for dinner this Friday night as well.”

Returning his friend’s smile, he nodded his head. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

§  §  §

The hackney cab rolled to a halt in front of twelve Curzon Street. Exiting the small carriage, Julia climbed the steps of the house and rapped on the door with the brass knocker. A moment later, a short, elderly man opened the door and invited her inside. The man took her shawl and beaded bag from her just as a toddler charged across the hall with a loud laugh. A woman followed him at half a run.

“Master Spencer Blackwell, come back here this instant.” Although her words were stern, there was the distinct sound of laughter in the woman’s voice. With a quick maneuver, the woman caught up with the boy and scooped him up into her arms. Giggling with enthusiasm, the boy squirmed in his mother’s arms as she pecked his cheek in a quick kiss and ordered him to be still.

As if suddenly realizing there was a guest in her foyer the woman turned to face Julia. A frazzled smile wreathing her handsome features, she sent the butler a beseeching look. “I’m terribly sorry. Fischer, would you mind taking Spencer up to Nanny? I’ll take care of Mrs. Westgard.”

The butler nodded and smiled as he took the boy into his arms and headed up the stairway. Their conversation was indiscernible, but it was obvious the boy adored the older man from the way the youngster laid his head on the butler’s shoulder. Turning toward her, the woman smiled and stretched out her hand to Julia.

“Please forgive me. It
is
Mrs. Westgard, isn’t it?”

Julia nodded as the woman shook her hand then drew her into a large salon. “I’m afraid perhaps I’m a little early, Lady Devlyn.”

“No, you’re right on time. And please, we’re quite informal here. Do call me Sophie.” The pleasant expression on Lady Devlyn’s face drew her to Julia, and returning the woman’s smile she nodded.

“All right, but you must agree to call me Julia.”

“Julia. What a lovely name.”

“I quite agree.”

The deep, velvety sound of Morgan’s voice made Julia go rigid. Slowly she turned her head and met his enigmatic gaze. Why the sight of him was so unexpected, she really didn’t know. She should have known he would be here for supper since he and Lord Devlyn were friends.

“St. Claire.”

With a nod in his direction, she managed to keep her voice steady as she greeted him, barely noticing that Lord Devlyn had entered the salon behind Morgan. Tension and heat tightened the muscles below her belly as she studied him for a brief moment before looking away. Just looking at the man was a dangerous pastime. Worse, she found it was impossible to remain unaffected by the raw force of his personality even from across the room.

Every time she saw him, her need for him slowly eroded the slippery slope she stood on. Soon she’d have to come to a decision where he was concerned. Not only did she want his kiss and touch, she wanted one more chance to experience the ecstasy of that single night they’d spent in each other’s arms. The knowledge didn’t really surprise her, but the intensity of her craving for him did. Determined not to reveal how vulnerable she was to his presence, she turned back to Lady Devlyn.

“My la—” She stopped at the pleasant look of discouragement on Sophie’s face and smiled. “Sophie. How old is your little boy.”

“Spencer will be four in about six months, although he seems far older than that sometimes.”

A deep laugh poured out of Lord Devlyn’s throat as he moved to his wife’s side. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he grinned. “He’s his mother’s son—impudent and well aware that he has the entire staff wrapped around his finger.”

“Supper will be ready shortly, but until then we should make ourselves comfortable.” With a gesture toward the couches separated by an oval coffee table, Sophie sank down onto one of the sofas. Julia followed suit and sat down across from her hostess. An instant later, her skin grew hot as Morgan joined her on the love seat. Inhaling a deep breath, she trembled at how close he was.

Perched on the edge of her seat, her mouth tightened with annoyance as she heard his low chuckle. Determined to ignore him, she watched Lord Devlyn take his wife’s hand and hold it in his in a tender gesture. They were the image of a happily married couple. A streak of envy flashed through her. Quickly she killed the emotion. Marriage was out of the question for her. Leaning forward slightly, she smiled.

“Lord Devlyn tells me you’ve only recently moved into this house.”

“Yes, it’s been a little more than two months now. We haven’t been frequent visitors to town, but with this new venture Quentin is starting, we needed a place to stay and entertain.”

Devlyn leaned toward his wife with a wicked grin. “Admit it, my love, you simply want to drag me to the blasted opera. Although, I confess there is one opera I have quite pleasurable memories of.”

A delicate blush crept over Sophie’s cheeks, and once more, Julia found herself envying the affectionate rapport between the couple. Is this what the words happily married meant? This give and take between a husband and wife. She darted a glance at the man beside her. Morgan’s eyes met hers in a quiet look of assessment. The sudden hunger darkening his gaze sent a shudder of longing through her.

Had he arranged this supper invitation in hopes that he’d persuade her to marry him? If he had, he’d wasted his time. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what life would be like if she were to marry him? The thought made her tug her gaze away from him as she struggled to cope with the sharp desire to consider his proposal. A small chill streaked across her skin at how strong the urge to give in to him was.

From the salon doorway, a young maid announced dinner, and Julia allowed a soft sigh of relief to part her lips as she quickly stood up. Seconds later, her relief vanished as Morgan rose to his feet to stand next to her. A wave of heat washed over her skin at his close proximity, while her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She offered up a small prayer of gratitude that they weren’t alone. If they had been, she was certain she would have done exactly as he’d told her the other day. She would have asked him to kiss her. Julia trembled slightly and glanced up at Morgan. His eyes narrowed as if he could read her mind, and her mouth went dry as she met his gaze. Resisting temptation was proving to be far more difficult than she’d ever thought possible.

§  §  §

Morgan frowned with frustration. Ever since Julia had learned he’d arranged to take her home after supper, her body had been stiff with irritation. The pleasant manner with which she’d said goodbye to Devlyn and Sophie was in direct contrast to the frosty silence in the carriage. She’d even refused his hand climbing into his carriage.

The interior of the vehicle created an intimacy he liked, but it was clear Julia didn’t feel the same way. She’d twisted her body away from him so the only thing brushing against his legs was the taffeta of her green silk dress. The carriage rocked forward, and the only sound inside the vehicle was that of the horse’s hooves against the cobblestone street.

Julia stared out the window, and it was impossible to imagine what she might be thinking. The tension between them could have been kindling it was so brittle, and he was certain of one thing. She was far from happy with him at the moment. He released a quiet sigh of resignation. Somehow, he had to convince her that marriage wasn’t a prison, but a chance for immeasurable happiness.

His friends’ happy marriage was the perfect example of what he was certain he and Julia could have. Until just recently, he’d always thought Devlyn’s and Sophie’s happiness was something to envy. He’d never dreamed such happiness might be within his grasp until he met Julia.

All evening, he’d watched her studying the other couple when she thought no one was watching, and it had given him hope that she’d been thinking they could be just as happy together as Sophie and Devlyn. Studying her profile, he cleared his throat.

“Did you enjoy yourself this evening?”

“Yes.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “I like Sophie a great deal.”

“I could tell she liked you as well.” When she didn’t respond, his jaw muscles tightened with exasperation. Stubborn as always, she refused to make things easy between them.

“Their marriage is a happy one. I’ve always thought them well suited for one another.” At his comment, she slowly turned to look him in the eye.

“They
are
well suited, unlike
others
.”

“If by that you think we’re ill-suited for one another then you’re wrong. We belong together. You’re just too obstinate to see it.” He folded his arms across his chest to keep from reaching out and shaking her.

“And you’re
not
stubborn?” She sniffed with heated sarcasm. “You continue to tout this idea that marriage is a suitable state for the two of us, when I know it would be anything but.”

“Tell me
why
you think that.”

“Because…because if I marry you, the law gives you complete control over me,” she snapped. “And I refuse to let that happen.”

“If it’s your money you’re worried about, I’m perfectly willing to sign a document that prevents me from having access to any of your finances.” He saw her jerk at his statement before she shook her head and looked out the window.

“My finances are not what I’m talking about,” she said softly. “The moment I married you, I’d be nothing more than your property. An object you could do with as you like.”

“Christ Jesus,” he rasped. “I’m not like Westgard, Julia. Hurting you would be the last thing I’d ever want to do. I love you.”

“And I…I know that.”

The way she stumbled over her words made his heart crash violently into his chest. She’d almost admitted she loved him before she caught herself. He was certain of it. In a swift move, he reached out and pulled her into his lap. In the dim light, he saw her lips part in surprise.

“Say it, Julia. Tell me you love me.” His harsh command made her shake her head in denial.

“You’re wrong,” she said breathlessly, her body rigid against his. “And even if you weren’t, it wouldn’t change my mind about marrying
you
or anyone else.”

Morgan bowed his head to smell the soft fragrance of her skin. As much as he desired her, he was equally happy just being near her. No matter how old they grew, Morgan knew that would never change. She was as important to him as the air he breathed. But he also loved touching her, tasting her. He brushed his mouth across her bare shoulder. The quick breath she dragged into her lungs pleased him. He liked knowing that he had the same effect on her that she had on him.