Page 39 of After the Spy Seduces

He’d saved her life—twice—and she knew now that he wasn’t the selfish bounder the gossips claimed him to be, that the stories about the women, cards, and wild behavior had been wrong. Even the general held a favorable opinion of him. All of that worked together with that dashing smile of his, with his crisp wit and sharp intelligence, to attract her in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

Yet she couldn’t let herself be drawn in by his charms. Even if he was a good man at heart, he was still a shiftless second son, one without prospects or a clear path for his future, and so still needed to be kept at arm’s length because of it.

“I’ve told you everything I know about the French and my brother’s whereabouts.” Tamping down the trembling in her fingers, she turned the page and lifted the book straight up before her face. “So please leave me in peace to read.”

But the rascal didn’t follow her orders and leaned in even closer to look over her shoulder at the book. “What are you reading?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in.”

That show of pique only earned her another grin. “But I’m interested in lots of things.” Then he turned his head to gaze up at her, his cheek resting far too familiarly on her shoulder. If he meant to unsettle her, he was doing a fine job of it. “You, for one.”

“Ah! Fiction, I see.”

A low laugh rumbled from him and seeped into her, sending a little shiver down into her breasts. With him sitting so close like this, it was impossible not to remember how it had felt to have his mouth on hers, his hands caressing her body. Most likely the scoundrel knew it, too.

“What are you reading? Tell me. Something so scandalously shocking that you can’t share it? One of those Gothic novels that women have been secretly passing around?The Monk?The Dark Prince?” Before she could stop him, he took the book out of her hand and snapped it closed to read the cover. He paused. Surprise filled his voice. “Housekeeping and Husbandry in the Southern Counties?”

She snatched it away. With an angry scowl, she finally turned to face him, only to find his mouth mere inches from hers. She couldn’t help dropping her gaze to his sensuous lips. Or longing to kiss him. She forced her eyes up to his. “What’s wrong with a woman who wants to improve her mind?”

“And her sheep,” he muttered, which earned him a light slap on the shoulder with the book. “Nothing’s wrong with it. But itisa surprise for a society miss, you have to admit.”

“I’m not a typical society miss.”

His gaze moved slowly over her, taking her in as she sat there on the blanket in her pale blue day dress, her cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders. “Oh, I’ve certainly come to realize that,” he murmured. “You’re a general’s daughter, in every way.”

Pride flared warmly inside her, even though he most likely didn’t mean that as a compliment. “And speaking of the general, he’s in his study.” She opened the book again and stuck it up between them, hiding her face behind it. “You can find him there.”

“I’m not looking for the general.” He placed his finger on the book and slowly pushed it down. “I was looking for you.”

“Stop that.” She dismissed him by raising the book again. Hopefully, this time, he would accept the hint and go away.

Instead, he took the book completely out of her hand and tossed it away to the edge of the blanket, out of her reach.

Before she could give him the tongue lashing he deserved, he tugged off his glove and caressed his bare knuckles across her cheek.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the shuddering temptation of his touch and rasped out, with far less conviction than before, “Stop that.”

He slowly dropped his hand away.

Opening her eyes, she stared at him and blinked hard, trying to fathom this man and her inexplicable attraction to him. She should have been happy that he’d stopped caressing her. Instead, she felt the loss of his touch as physically as she did her shawl when it slipped off her shoulders and puddled around her on the blanket.

Her belly tightened. She didn’t play at courtships and flirtations the way some society misses did, instead viewing them as a serious path toward finding a husband. After all, she had to be careful with the men she chose to bring into her life.Verycareful. There was no room for error. Certainly not when it came to the man that she would eventually marry. Whoever that man would be, he had to be dependable, trustworthy, and honorable. He couldn’t be a man who refused all responsibility in favor of a life of merrymaking.

He couldn’t be Christopher Carlisle.

But, frustratingly, knowing that did nothing to squelch her attraction to him.

“Why are you here?” she demanded, and drat her voice for being far too breathless.

“To see you.” Christopher reached down for the shawl and chivalrously placed it back over her shoulders. He tenderly—and opportunistically—tucked a stray curl behind her ear before he sat back.

Her cheeks heated in response, and she looked away. “Now you’ve seen me. So you can go.”

Refusing to look at him, she gazed down the lawn to the edge of the chestnut plantation where Meri played with a host of dolls and stuffed animals that they’d carried down in a big basket from the nursery. Mrs. Davenport had gone into the village for the day, as she did every Saturday, leaving Meri in Diana’s care until dinner.

But Meri never looked up to notice that Christopher was there. Most likely, she wouldn’t have cared anyway. There were always men arriving at Idlewild—soldiers there to see the general, friends of her brother wanting to cajole him into misbehaving with them, and their handful of tenants coming and going. What was one more visitor? For that, at least, Diana was thankful. Because Meri hadn’t noticed that since the night of the party the general had placed guards around the farm to keep watch.

“I don’t want to go,” Christopher murmured in what she was certain was his most flirtatious drawl. “I want to stay right here and get to know you better.”