Stranger in My Arms(16)

“There will be no locked doors between us,” he said curtly.

Lara stood by the bed, her face stark white, slender arms wrapped tightly around herself. From her rigid posture, it was clear that she was using every ounce of self-control to keep from bolting. She looked like an angel, her body clad in layers of white muslin, her hair gathered in a dark shining stream over her shoulder.

Remembering the firm tenderness of her br**sts and h*ps in his hands, the sweetness of her mouth beneath his, Hunter felt a smoldering heat begin in his groin. He couldn’t ever remember wanting a woman like this, craving the feel and scent and taste of her with every fiber of his being.

“Please leave,” she said unsteadily.

“I’m not going to rape you, Lara,” he said bluntly.

“If that were my intention, I’d be on top of you now.”

The crude words made her flinch. “Then why are you here?”

“I thought you might be able to tell me where the rest of my belongings are.”

Lara considered the question for a moment. “Arthur sold or destroyed many of your things when he moved into the house,” she said. “I wasn’t in a position to object.”

Hunter scowled, silently damning Arthur. He only hoped the bastard hadn’t found the journals, or discovered the secrets they might contain… Better that they had been disposed of.

“I asked the servants to bring whatever was left to

your room,” Lara murmured. “What are you looking for?”

He shrugged and kept his silence. There was a chance that the journals were hidden somewhere in the house. If so, he would rather not make Lara aware of their existence.

Wandering farther into the room, he noticed the way she backed away, preserving the distance between them. She looked lovely and wary, her small chin set defiantly. Her gaze darted over his robe, and she viewed the garment with such unease that he realized it had awakened some distasteful memory.

“What is it?” he asked gruffly.

A frown worked between her fine dark brows, pinching them together.

“Don’t you remember?”

He shook his head. “Tell me.”

“You wore that the last time we… the last time you visited me.” It was clear from her expression that the experience hadn’t been particularly pleasant.

He heard himself mutter some sort of apology.

They were bound in uncomfortable silence, while Hunter stared at his wife in a mixture of anger and regret, wondering how to erase the apprehension in her eyes.

“I told you it won’t be like that again,” he said.

“Yes, my lord,” she murmured, though it was clear she didn’t believe him.

Cursing beneath his breath, he paced across the Oriental carpet. He knew it would provide her with no end of relief if he left now, but he didn’t want to just yet. It had been so long since he’d enjoyed any real companionship. He was lonely, and being in her presence was the only comfort he had, despite the fact that she had no great liking for him.

The room was decorated in the same florid style as his, only worse.

The bed was a virtual monument, with carved and gilded end posts as thick as tree trunks, and valances heavy with gold and red bead-work.

The ceiling was smothered in a pattern of golden shells and dolphin moldings~... not to mention a huge oval mirror framed with figures of bare breasted mermaids.

Seeing where his attention wandered, Lara sought to break the tension with small talk. “Janet must have been very fond of her own reflection. Why would she want to watch herself going to sleep?”

Her innocence touched him. “I don’t think sleeping was the activity the mirror was intended to reflect,” he said dryly.

“You mean she wanted to look at herself durin….” Clearly the idea confounded Lara, and she turned scarlet. “But why?”

“Some people take pleasure in watching themselves during the act.”

“But Janet doesn’t seem to be the kind of woman who would…”

“Never be surprised by what people do in the privacy of their bedrooms,” he advised, coming to stand beside her.

He expected her to skitter away, but she held her ground and stared at him with those translucent green eyes. He sensed her curiosity, and the unvoiced suspicions in her mind. “Have you even” she began, and broke off abruptly.

“No, not beneath a mirror,” he said matter-of-factly, though the notion stimulated him immensely.

He imagined pushing Lara to the bed, lifting her nightgown, burying his head between her slim thighs while their entwined bodies were reflected overhead.

“I think it’s a very silly idea,” Lara said.

“My motto is, you shouldn’t decide against something before you’ve even tried it.”

A quick, almost reluctant laugh escaped her. “That motto could lead you into a great deal of trouble.”

“So it has,” he said ruefully.

Something about his expression told Lara that he was remembering some of his experiences in India, some of them not particularly pleasant.

“Did you find what you were looking for in your travels?” she asked hesitantly. “The excitement and adventure you wanted so badly?”

“I found that excitement and adventure are damned overrated,” he replied. “What I got from my travels was a new appreciation for home.