Stranger in My Arms(23)

Just then a footman entered the room to remove the plates and bring dessert. “Not now,” Hunter barked. ‘I want to be alone.”

The servant closed the door with a muffled apology. Letting out an explosive breath, Hunter scooped up the pile of thin, leather-bound journals that had been stored in the sideboard’s false top, carried them to the chair by the fire, and sorted them in the correct order.

He began to read, scanning the pages rapidly. As he absorbed the neatly written lines, he tore out the finished pages in sheaves of two or three, and fed them to the fire. The flames danced and crackled in anticipation, flaring up with each new addition.

Every now and then Hunter paused thoughtfully, staring into the fire, watching the words that blazed and shrank into ashes.

Chapter 6

LARA ENTERED THE breakfast room and felt a stab of apprehension when she saw that Hunter was there.

He sipped a cup of black coffee-the way he had always taken it-and set aside a copy of the Times as he beheld her. The footman in attendance brought Lara a cup of chocolate and a plate of strawberries, and left for the kitchen while Hunter seated her.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his gaze sweeping over her face, not missing the shadows beneath her eyes. “You didn’t sleep well.”

Lara shook her head. “I lay awake for the longest time.”

“You should have come to me,” he said, his face innocent except for the devilish spark in his brown eyes. “I could have helped you to relax.”

“Thank you, no,” Lara said promptly. She lifted a strawberry to her lips, but before she tasted it, a sudden laugh choked her, and she set down her fork.

“What is it?” Hunter asked.

She pressed her lips together, but that only worsened her giggles.

‘You,” she gasped. “I’m afraid you’re in desperate need of a tailor.”

Hunter had donned some of his old clothes, and he was swamped in folds of extra fabric, his jacket and waistcoat hanging loose, his baggy trousers held up by some miracle she didn’t care to speculate on.

An answering grin appeared on his face, and he spoke in a rueful tone.

“I like to hear you laugh, sweet. Even when I’m the target.”

“I’m sorry, I…” Lara dissolved in another burst of merriment. She pushed back her chair and went to him, unable to keep from investigating further. She pulled at the loose wads of material at his sides and waist. “We can’t have you go about looking like this …

Perhaps a few stitches here and there would help…”

“Whatever you suggest.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled as she continued to fuss over him.

“You look a complete vagabond!” she exclaimed.

“I have been a vagabond,” he said. “Until I came home to you.

Lara’s gaze met his. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement. Her breath caught as she accidentally touched the hard surface of his midriff, his heat filtering through the thin linen shirt. She snatched her hand back at once. “Excuse me, I-” “No.” He caught her wrist swiftly, enclosing it in a gentle grip.

They stared at each other, frozen in a quiet tableau.

Hunter exerted only a light tension on her wrist. It would be so easy for him to pull her forward, bring her tumbling into his lap, but he held still. It seemed as if he were waiting for something, his expression arrested, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm much faster than normal. Lara sensed that if she took the step toward him, he would pull her into his arms… Her nerves clamored with excited alarm at the prospect. She looked at his mouth, remembered the warmth and taste of him… Yes, she wanted him to kiss her… but before she could move her leaden feet, Hunter released her with a crooked smile.

Lara expected to feel relief, but instead she was flooded with disappointment. Troubled by her inexplicable reactions to him, she went back to her chair and bent her head over the plate of strawberries.

“I’ll be leaving for London tomorrow morning,” she heard Hunter say casually.

Startled, she glanced at him. “So soon? But you’ve only just arrived.”

“I have business to take care of, including a meeting with Mr. Young and our bankers and solicitors.”

At her questioning expression, he added, “To arrange for some loans.”

“We’re in debt, then,” Lara said gravely, not surprised by the news.

Hunter nodded, his mouth twisting. “Thanks to Arthur’s mismanagement.”

“But to arrange for more debt?” she asked hesitantly. “Won’t that encumber the estate beyond all reason?”

He gave her a brief, reassuring smile. “It’s the only way to climb out. Don’t worry, madam-I have no intention of failing you.”

The pucker on her forehead remained, but when she spoke again, it concerned a far different matter.

“Is that the only reason you’re going to London? I suppose you’ll want to see some old friends as well.”

She paused and sipped at her chocolate in a show of unconcern. “Lady Carlysle, for example.”

“You keep mentioning her name,” he commented. “It’s hardly flattering, this desire of yours to push me into the arms of another woman.

“I was merely asking.” Lara didn’t know what had prompted her to bring up the subject. She forced herself to eat another strawberry as she waited.