He climbed in under the covers, as though she weren’t there.
She unfolded and snuggled down under the blankets too, turning to face him, propping her cheek on one hand. She stared at him from only a few inches away.
“Scruffy. You didn’t shave this evening?”
“I dinna know you were coming. You dinna send word.” She still smells of peaches.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Consider me surprised. And bearded.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So you should be. Beards are fair inconvenient when combined with my preferred pastime. I assume that’s what you’re here about?”
“Not about that.”
He stopped ribbing her in favor of real answers. “It’s been three weeks, lass! How could you let me go like that?” He let her feel his hurt. He’d thought her gone forever, but he’d remained in London. London! During the season! He’d stayed in a place he hated on the slim chance that she would come looking. And now he was profoundly, bone-meltingly relieved that she had. Not to mention angry that it had taken her so long. And –
“I’m sorry about Mr Jackson.”
“Jack? What does Jack have to do with it?”
“I set him up – the dirigible and the piccolo. It was a contract, too. I was there for both. Jack at the duke’s behest, and the duke at—”
“Na the werewolves. They dinna know you’d been set to watch like me.”
“You were there for them?”
He nodded.
She gave back in kind. “I was there for the vampires. Jack was a necessary casualty. I hope he wasn’t too hurt?”
“Hang Jack! He’s a woolen-headed dolt. He’s already gone and fallen in love again. Some American heiress.”
Preshea laughed. “So, you’re angry I let you leave without saying anything? What did you want me to say?”
She ran a fingertip around his jaw, as if testing the scratch of his nightly beard. It would scrape her thighs. Weel, she deserves it. I’ll find a nice cooling cloth for after, make certain she doesna get too red… What am I thinking? She left me in misery for weeks and here I’m worrying about her thighs. Of course I am. Gavin sighed; he wasn’t even angry with her. Because she is here, with me.
He answered her question. “I wanted you to ask me to stay. Even though I couldna. I wanted you to offer to continue our liaison.”
“Only that?”
I wanted you to say you loved me. But there was no way he was going to scare her off with that.
“Lass, I read about your father, in the papers.”
“How did you know he’s my father?”
“Preshea Buss.” She winced and he hurried on. “I called in my favor with the werewolves of the War Office soon as I returned. They’ve a wee file on you, verra wee. Had all your names, though. Weel, all the public ones. Was it your doing, then, ‘the humiliation of Mr Buss’?” He quoted the headline.
“Quite the scandal. He’s fled to Australia, did you know? Won’t ever be able to practice business here again.” He’d sold shoddy materials to a dirigible manufacturer. People had died when the airship exploded. Lord Akeldama had acquired the company articles, and Preshea’s father was culpable without question.
“Are you tainted by association, lass?”
She shrugged, still caressing his face. “Not hardly. It’s been years since I carried his name. We never appeared in public together.”
“You’re staying in London, then?” He was disappointed. If she were escaping scandal, she might wish to come with him back to the rolling, endless green of his beloved Scotland.
She grinned, a real smile that crept all the way into those remarkable eyes. “Actually, I believe I should like to travel.”
“The season has only just begun.”
“Second Reform Act has people restless. There could be riots. I’ve no need to stay in town.”
“Season would give you the opportunity to catch another husband. You’re out of mourning.”
“What would I do with another husband?”
“You might pick one you actually loved for a change.”
“You applying for the position?”
Startled, Gavin reached for her hand and held it between his, stopping the caresses.
“Am I in with a chance?”
She broke the moment. At least, he thought that was what she was doing. “I had an interesting conversation with a vampire recently.”
“Oh, aye?”
“He said something very wise.”
“Vampires are known to do that, on occasion.”
“He said I should choose love.”
Gavin stopped breathing. He could do nothing but stare at her – small white face, slight up-tilt to the nose, bluest of blue eyes, all polished perfection. “Did he, now?”
“Although I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of the beard.”
Gavin sat up and yelled, “Mawkins! Get your scrawny arse in here!”
Preshea hit him with a tiny fist. “Don’t be an idiot!”
The valet’s head appeared around the door. “Sir?” He didn’t even blink at Preshea’s presence. She hid under the coverlet. Gavin was given to wonder if Mawkins hadn’t a hand in letting her into the room in the first place. Crafty devil.
“My lass here would see me shaved.”
“Now, sir?”