terrible.
There was a long moment of silence as her cousin took in those simple, yet passionate, words and then she said evenly, “Well, if that is true, he is a fool indeed.”
Harriet stroked her hand through her cousin’s hair, a sadness weighing heavily upon her heart. In some very silly way, it was hard to see Emmaline so happy when she had lost the only love she had ever known. Worse, the object of her affection was somewhere in the house. But that was very bad of her. She bent and kissed Emmaline’s smooth cheek. “Good night sweetheart.”
“And to you,” her cousin replied, smiling, a radiant glow about her.
Harriet glanced into the mirror, looking at both their reflections. She winked then said cheekily, “I think you shall have many good nights soon.”
Emmaline batted at her. “You are incorrigible. Can you never be serious?”
“No. Never. Life is already too sour to be sour myself.” Harriet gave a last, fond touch to Emmaline’s cheek then headed for the door. As she slipped out, she let a sigh of contentment escape her lips. All would be well with the world. Emmaline deserved such happiness. She was such a kind soul. Very few women could compete for her kind of goodness.
Perhaps if she had been so good then—
“Wandering the halls again, Harry?”
Harriet whipped towards the rough voice. Her stupid heart slammed hard in her chest.
There he stood. Her own personal Lucifer come to lead her astray.
Shirt open at the throat, just the teasing hint of his hard muscles bared, and black hair mussed about his tawny face, he was heartachingly beautiful. His shoulder was braced against the carved door frame. A glass of brandy hung from his fingertips. Effortless. Seductive. Tempting. Tempting her to ask for a sip.
He looked like sin.
And God forgive her, she had once loved his kind of sin with an unfathomable desperation.
She lifted her chin. “I am just going to my room.”
“Wouldn’t you rather come to mine?” he said softly, his eyes as burning as the liquor in his glass.
And for the second time that day, that damned man rendered her completely speechless.
Chapter 5
Harriet stared at him, utterly flummoxed. Firstly, because he hated her. Secondly, because she could still recall what exactly could transpire alone with him. It involved a great deal of skin, exclamations of absolute delight, and a desire to leave all inhibitions somewhere in the dust.
It was the portal to another world. Propriety and sanity be damned.
Most women would sell their souls for a taste of it.
She’d had it all. Well, as much as one could receive in one event of unbridled passion. It had certainly been enough to render her deeply desirous of that feeling.
But luckily she was wise enough to know a taste wouldn’t be enough. Not of Garret. Once he had drawn his attentions away from her, she had languished like an addict denied her very favorite addiction. It had not been pleasant.
In fact, it had been agonizing.
If one were to walk into Garret’s room, one would have to give themselves over completely, recklessly. There would be no self left. Only a pleasured body left to wonder if they had, indeed, experienced such wild power. Once, oh Lord once, how she had loved to be reckless.
But she had learned her lesson and paid dearly for it. Indeed, she had. It had been cruel and cold. Given their mutual resolution to strike each other from their respective lives, it seemed impossible that she was standing in the hall in her nightdress and dressing robe with him standing in deshabille in his bedroom doorway. She couldn’t have imagined such a situation in her wildest dreams. At least not a situation that would occur in reality.
“Have a drink?” he lifted his glass up towards her. Beckoning her ever so slightly.
When she continued to stare at him, her own brain seeming to have gone off on its own grand tour, he smiled his devil smile, brought the glass to his lips and took a long swallow.
It was