Tainted Tea for Two

Belatedly making sure her short, cotton robe covered what it was supposed to, Marty took a step back from Gresham. No good, though. His masculine after-shave drifted toward her and teased her tired senses. “What do you mean by coming into my room like this? I could’ve been... sleeping.”

Fortunately she changed her word choice from “naked” to “sleeping.” Dangerous suggestion around someone who looked as devastating as he did.

Gresham’s smile conveyed his disbelief. “At eight o’clock? I hardly think so.” He clasped his hands behind his back and took a cramped stroll around the room. “I’m here to bring you downstairs.”

Although she should have thrown him out, she stood rooted to the floor. She didn’t even flinch when he picked up her special paperweight, but she would’ve been lying if she didn’t admit her fingers itched to grab it out of his hands.

Then, for some reason, the four poster bed seemed to attract him. He walked over to it and began pawing through her pile of recently discarded clothing. “I was under the impression that Americans understood English, Ms. Jackson. Dinner, I remember saying, is at eight. You are keeping everyone from their food.”

Only when he uncovered her bra did her motionless state vanish. “Do you mind?” She quickly tugged on his arm, and pulled him away from the bed... and the intimate articles.

He smiled again, revealing perfect white teeth. This time her heart fluttered in such a peculiar way. “I, ah, told Lottie I wouldn’t be joining you.”

“You have no choice. Come. It is late.”

Annoyance crept into her tone. She planted her hands on her hips. “Listen, I appreciate the offer but I’m tired and I don’t feel like eating.”

The top of her robe gaped open a little. Naturally his gaze took in the sight. Just collarbones, but his smile deepened. She grabbed at the material. The beast!

Then he did the unexpected. He bent down to stare directly into her eyes. Waves of his masculine, musky after-shave shook Marty to her very core. His sparkling grey eyes mesmerized her, and once again, she couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. She gulped down hard. Embarrassingly enough, her nipples hardened. Good grief, this power he had over her was unfair but there was no way she could protest.

“Ms. Jackson,” Gresham murmured, “you will accompany me to dinner, undressed as you are, or otherwise.” He slowly, torturously, skimmed the side of her cheek with two of his fingers.

When she shivered, he broke contact and shrugged. “Make no mistake about it. Lord Embrey wishes to meet you tonight, and I’ll not have him disappointed.”

She was left breathless. Never in all her born days had anyone affected her to this degree. She didn’t even know the man, didn’t even like him, but one touch from him and she was like Jell-O.

Marty, you’re losing this battle. Better retreat and build up your defenses.

“Ah, okay.” She massaged the bridge of her nose. Was this day ever going to end? “Give me a minute and I’ll get dressed.”

“Agreed.”

She waited but he didn’t leave the room. Starting to lift her hands to her hips again, she then remembered about the robe gaping open. “Obviously I can’t change with you here.” Her voice practically dripped with sarcasm.

“No?” Gresham raised a dark eyebrow. “A pity.” He purposefully walked to the door, then turned around. “You said a minute, so that’s when I’ll expect you to be done. And, by the way, there’s no sense locking the door.”

He patted the pocket on the left side of his breast. “I have the key.”