An Unexpected Pleasure (The Mad Morelands #4)(51)

It was, perhaps most of all, the touch of something wild and untamed about him. It was there not just in the careless tousle of his just-a-little-too-long hair or the small scar that cut dangerously close to his eye, or the taut muscle beneath the smooth material of his jacket. It was in the hint of rawness not far below his surface, the faint hum of restless energy, the sharpness of that clear green gaze. There was power in him, a little frightening even as it drew her.

“What drives you?” Megan asked.

He looked at her, faintly surprised. “What? What do you mean?”

“The boys say you have been all over the world. Why? What is it you’re looking for?”

“I’m not sure.” He gazed off into the distance, thinking. “Excitement, I suppose. At least, that is what most people would say.”

“What would you say?”

He shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure. I just…want to see other things. Do other things.” He lay back on the ground, pillowing his head on his crossed arms and gazing up at the lacy tangle of branches above them. “I never wanted to be Lord Raine. Lord knows, I have no desire to be the Duke of Broughton, either. Reed, now, Reed is the sort who would be an excellent duke. Responsible, careful, concerned.” He cast her a laughing glance. “All the things that I am not—as my great-aunt Hermione will be happy to tell you. I want to know what else is out there.”

“It can be dangerous, can’t it?”

“It can get exciting.” He shrugged. “I can’t deny that there is some appeal in that.”

Theo turned his head and looked up at Megan. His voice softened a little as he said, “Isn’t there something in you that feels the same way?”

Megan looked into his eyes, feeling the pull. Was that what drew her to him? The excitement? The danger? She knew that she responded to that; it was part of what sent her out in pursuit of her stories. But she had met other dangerous men in the course of her work, and none of them had held any allure for her. There was something more in Theo, something as elusive as smoke and as searing as fire.

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” he went on. “At least part of it?”

She jerked back. What did he know about why she was there? “What do you mean?”

“You could have taught just as easily in America,” he pointed out, watching her steadily. “Why travel here? To someplace unknown? There is something more exciting about it, isn’t there? Not knowing what you’ll find? Or even whether you will be able to get a job.”

“Oh.” Relief trickled through Megan, and she relaxed, telling herself not to be so silly. He didn’t know. There was no way he could guess. “Yes, I suppose so. I’ve always wanted something that most other women don’t seem to care about.”

“What is that?”

She smiled a little. “Maybe just not to be what was laid out for me. Like you. Not to assume a woman’s place and marry and settle down—raise children and run a household.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I presume a number of people have told you that that is what you should want?”

“Oh, yes. That is what my sister did. And it’s a perfect life for Mary Margaret. But just the thought of it gives me the shivers.”

“You don’t want to marry?” He tilted his head, studying her.

Megan colored a little under his regard. “I’m not sure,” she replied in a low voice. “It’s not so much that I don’t want to marry. It’s that marriage isn’t my life’s goal.”

He smiled. “Then you have nothing against men, as such.” He reached across the grass that separated them and touched his forefinger to her hand, braced against the ground. Slowly, idly, he traced down each finger, leaving a sizzling trail in his wake.

“I—ah, no, I’ve nothing against men.” Megan tried to focus on something, anything, other than the sensations his touch created in her. “In general, I mean.”

“Then there are specific men you’ve something against?” he asked lightly, his forefinger sliding up onto her wrist and arm.

Megan looked at him, knowing that she should pull her hand away, should, in fact, shift farther away from him or stand up, ending this tête à tête. But gazing into his eyes only seemed to immobilize her further. It seemed as though she could fall into their clear green depths, submerge and never surface.

Almost unknowingly, she leaned toward him. Slowly Theo sat up, closing the gap between them. He was going to kiss her, she thought, and she knew, moreover, that she would not resist. Indeed, she realized that she was moving forward to meet him.

At that moment Con’s laughter soared across the park toward them, breaking the trance Megan found herself in, and she realized with a guilty start exactly what she had been about to do. She sucked in her breath, cheeks flaming red, and scrambled to her feet.

“We should go,” she said quickly. “We have been here far too long.”

“Have we?” Theo responded wryly. “I would have said it hadn’t been nearly long enough.”

But she was already moving away, packing up the remnants of their meal and calling to the twins. “Con! Alex! It’s time to go!”

Resignedly, Theo moved to help her. He knew she was right; the middle of Hyde Park with his two younger brothers in tow was scarcely the time or place. But one day, and soon, it would be. He was going to make sure of it.