Seven Nights to Forever by Evangeline Collins Read Free Book Online

companionship. Long, lonely, sleepless nights. The only light from the smoldering embers in the fireplace, the massive town house quiet as a grave about him. He certainly would not have refused an offer from a woman during any of them. Yet the one night when he had actually received an offer, and not just one, what had he done?
    Refused them.
    He gave his head a self-deprecating shake, the beginnings of a chuckle rumbling in his chest. “James, you most definitely have become an old man.”
    But the offer had not truly been an offer, and that he had not been able to forget. Rose had been beyond beautiful. An image conjured straight from his fantasies. But once he had stood face-to-face with her, the thought of using her to sate his own selfish desires had posed too formidable an obstacle.
    His body had been more than willing. His damn prick jumping to life, eager and needy, at every one of her smiles, never mind when she actually touched him. He could still feel the path her delicate fingertips had taken as they had coasted up his thigh, branding the arch of his arousal with her touch. No doubt in his dreams that touch would shift, his trousers slip away. Her grip would turn sure, gliding up and down his length slicked from the lush pleasures of her beautiful mouth, her eyes glinting with a need that matched his own as she urged him to completion.
    He let out a short grunt and reached down to adjust himself. That thought alone would fuel his fantasies for many nights to come.
    But above all, it had felt so good to hold her, to have the soft, light weight of her body pressed against his. To have her small hand held tight in his. To have the sweet, subtle feminine scent of her fill his every breath. It had been much too long since he had simply held a woman. Before his marriage, he would never have considered such a simple act a luxury. But after three years of famine, he had soaked up Rose’s presence as if she were a precious drop of rain in the desert.
    He would have much preferred to stay with Rose, to extend their chaste evening through the dawn, to not have to return here. Even though days upon days could pass without him even laying eyes on her , just being in this house was difficult. That damn stark desolation settling about him like a cloak whenever he walked through the front door.
    But there was nothing he could do to change his fate. The best he could do was bear it, and try not to allow the loneliness to get the better of him again.
    Frowning at the clouds, he turned on his heel and left his bedchamber. Hopefully the rain would hold off. He didn’t relish the thought of arriving at his office soaked to the bone.
    A bit of coffee and he could be on his way. Decker was likely fretting over his absence about now. James was usually seated behind his desk before eight, and it was already half past ten.
    He tipped his head to the maid bustling toward the room at the other end of the corridor. The pale pink cambric morning dress in her arms did not escape his notice. He quickened his pace as he went down the stairs. He found the formal dining room empty save for an ivory pot and a matching cup and saucer at the head of the long mahogany table. The sideboard along the wall was bare except for the two silver candelabras stationed on each end. He never bothered the kitchen with breakfast. Just because he was eager to vacate the house did not mean Cook had to be sentenced to drag herself out of bed well before dawn to prepare a meal for him. It took little to see to a pot of coffee. Any servant could handle the task, and one need not even be fully awake.
    He sat down and reached for the pot of coffee.
    “I’ve alerted the kitchen to bring a fresh pot, Mr. Archer.”
    Somehow he kept from giving a start. Damnation, his staff could move about without making a sound. He had thought himself alone.
    A footman clad in dark green livery had materialized at his elbow. Hands clasped behind his back, the servant shifted his