Seducing the Enemy (10 page)

…

Harrison hurried toward the hall bathroom, arriving just as a little arm hurled a ball of ivory silk out through the cracked door. A black skirt followed. Then the bathroom door shut with a loud click.

He had spent the whole dinner stewing with annoyance and growing concern.

Why the hell had Andrew brought that crass redhead to the party? And why the hell wouldn’t Marietta just get up and leave the table?

He’d watched from the corner of his eye as her face paled and her hands grew shakier. She’d tried desperately to hide her distress, but it was clearly a losing battle. When she seemed on the verge of passing out, he’d told a server to make up an excuse to call Marietta away from the table.

A minute too late.

The sight of her agonized face as the beer poured over her had just about ripped his heart out, but he managed to maintain a rigid, cool composure as she sobbed and dashed out of the room. He’d quietly risen from his chair. Both Andrew and his uncle had stood, as well, but Harrison murmured that he would see to her.

Damon had shot him a look of gratitude, and Andrew made some sort of charming comment that broke the tension in the room.

Nothing broke Harrison’s tension.

He grabbed Marietta’s discarded clothes from the floor. The ivory top looked so small and delicate it made his chest ache. Neither piece was saturated, but beer stunk up the fabric.

“Is everything all right, sir?” Gordon’s familiar lined face was filled with concern as he approached. “Miss Marietta is ill?”

Harrison clenched his jaw and turned on the man he’d loved since he was a child. “Did I not give specific instructions that beer was not to be served tonight?”

Gordon’s mouth twisted. “You did, sir. I am so sorry. The entire staff was informed. Beer was not offered to any guest. But…”

“But Andrew countermanded the instructions?”

“I believe his date insisted. I am so sorry, sir. Is there anything I can do for the young lady?”

Harrison handed him Marietta’s clothes and gave the butler a few brief instructions.

Then he walked over and tapped on the bathroom door.

After a moment, the door opened a crack, and Marietta’s pale, tear-streaked face peeked out. “No!” she choked. “Not you.”

He pushed into the bathroom before she could lock him out.

She wore nothing but a black thong, which, under different circumstances, would have had Harrison thinking naughty thoughts. Now, however, sex was the last thing on his mind.

Marietta sank onto the floor in a heap and said, “I don’t want you.”

“Tough.” He walked over to the sink and turned on the water, washing his hands with soap to ensure no scent of beer remained on his skin.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

She sounded so pitiful, his throat hurt, but he just moistened a hand towel with cool water and said matter-of-factly, “I’ve seen you without clothes before.”

He knelt beside her and carefully wiped her face with the wet towel. She was still dead white, her lips pale beneath the remains of her lipstick and her eyes haunted.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I’m…I’m a wreck.”

He gave her a hint of a smile and shrugged out of his jacket. “Well, you certainly aren’t at your best. I’ll give you that.”

She was too shattered to smile—a sign of how deeply this seemingly trivial incident had broken her. This was more than a physical reaction to a distaste for beer. She showed all the symptoms of a traumatic psychological attack.

Gently, he helped her into his jacket, pulling it closed around her naked body. She shook so much he kept his arm around her, pulling her against his side with instinctive protectiveness.

Apparently, the gesture undid her. She wept softly, wrapping herself into a tight ball and burrowing against him.

He hugged her close, murmuring silly assurances and growing more concerned that she wasn’t pulling out of this. She was normally so resilient. This uncharacteristic behavior troubled him.

Finally, he loosened his arm and brought her chin up with his hand to see her face. “All right, Etta. It’s time to buck up. This isn’t like you.”

“Right,” she said in a hoarse voice. She sniffed and wiped her face with the wet towel she’d taken from him. “I’m okay now.”

He wasn’t convinced, but at least she was trying. He helped her stand and watched as she got her balance and pulled the jacket—far too big for her—around her.

After checking to be sure the hallway was clear, they left the bathroom. She was still weak and shaky, so he supported her like he had after she’d ridden with Andrew. But this time when they reached the stairs, he swept her into his arms.

She gasped, but to his relief, she didn’t pull away. She rested her head against his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs.

“You must think I’m crazy and pathetic—twice in three days not able to make it up the stairs.”

“Not at all. You’ve had a rough few days. And my family is at least partially to blame for both incidents.” Andrew was to blame. He swallowed his resentment for the time being and concentrated on Marietta in his arms.

“Don’t be mad at Andrew,” she said, her voice slightly muffled in his shirt. “He’s been nice to me.”

Harrison bit back his opinion of Andrew. He was a little breathless from the long climb up the stairs. Marietta wasn’t skin and bones—her delicious body was all soft curves and toned muscle.

In a faint voice, she said, “We can stop and rest if you need to.”

He flashed her a look and was relieved to see a glimmer of familiar amusement. He stifled a laugh and bounced her slightly in his arms to readjust her weight. “Don’t insult me.”

He let out a long breath when they reached the landing, but it was from relief, not fatigue. He hadn’t realized how worried he’d been until Marietta’s sunny spirit returned.

As he carried her into the suite, he found the bedroom warmly lit with candles that smelled light and fresh. Cucumber scent, he thought.

“I asked Gordon to light some candles and bring up something for you to drink,” he explained as he laid her into bed. He gestured at the fresh glass of fizzy, clear soft drink on the bedside table. “I thought it might help—after the beer. But if the smell of the candles makes you feel ill, I can—”

“No.” She gazed at him with wonder in her eyes. “They’re perfect. That was so nice.”

Her expression made him feel awkward, so he went to the wardrobe and found her cotton nightgown. Efficiently, and studiously avoiding any unnecessary glances at her body, he helped her out of his jacket and into the nightgown.

She still appeared pale, although no longer so deathly white. And while she shivered a little, her eyes were lit by a familiar intelligence.

“Thank you,” she murmured, as he draped his jacket over his arm.

“You’re welcome.”

She dropped her eyes and bit her lower lip. “Twice now. I hate this, you know.”

“What do you hate?” he asked, praying she wouldn’t say she hated letting him take care of her.

“Feeling so helpless.”

He exhaled deeply. “I know the feeling.”

“I like to think I’m strong and independent, but I’m not. I still seem to be afraid of everything.”

“No, you’re not.”

She swallowed hard. “I don’t know why, but after I started to walk again, it was like there were all these things I could do now, but I couldn’t seem to do any of them. It never made any sense. I had all these dreams before, but I never followed through once I could. Whenever I tried, I would panic. Maybe I thought…”

“Maybe you thought what?”

“It took a long time for me to feel safe again—after the accident. And now it’s like, if I take a step too far I’ll risk that safety and never get it back. Maybe I really am just a wimp.”

He frowned. “You don’t believe that.”

“Most of the time I don’t. I just wish I wasn’t so…stuck.”

Harrison studied her face, which twisted with emotion. “I don’t think you’re as stuck as you believe. Look at everything you’ve done just in the last week.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I guess.”

They stared at each other for a long moment in the candle-lit room. She sat on her knees on the bed, and he stood beside it. Then she gave him a little smile. “I like you in a tux, by the way. You’re very swoon-worthy.”

He felt ridiculously pleased with the unexpected compliment, so he kept his tone dry as he replied, “Swoon-worthy?”

“Yeah. I swooned, didn’t I? It must have been the tux.”

The humor caught him so unexpectedly, he laughed out loud. He was so pleased she was herself again that he pulled her into a hug.

Harrison wondered how he’d ever imagined she was anything but warm-hearted. Generous, real.

As she hugged him back, she chuckled, too, but her grip was urgent and needy.

He held her until she finally let go.

“Okay. I think I better go to sleep now.” She scooted under the covers and closed her eyes. “Thank you for your help. And don’t yell too much at your brother.”

Harrison knew when he was being dismissed. He closed the door behind him, and his face transformed as he stalked down the hall.

Andrew.

Harrison found him ascending the stairs, two steps at a time.

“Hey,” Andrew said softly. “Is she all right?”

Harrison snapped. With a low sound in his throat, he put a hand on his brother’s chest and slammed him back into the wall. “No, she’s not all right. What the hell were you thinking?”

Andrew’s eyes widened, but he didn’t fight the grip on his tux. “I’m sorrier than I can say, but I honestly didn’t know. Jessica wouldn’t stop pouting until I got her a beer, and how was I to know that Marietta—”

“You were to know because I’d given the staff instructions not to serve it.”

“I didn’t know she was so allergic she couldn’t even be in the same room. Seriously, is she all right?”

Andrew’s expression appeared genuinely concerned, so Harrison muttered, “She’s a little better now. But you’re not to go into her room.”

“Afraid I’m going to ravish her while she’s weak?” Andrew asked dryly.

“You smell like beer. You’ll make her sick again.”

“I feel like an ass,” Andrew admitted. “I never would have gotten Jessica a beer had I known Marietta would have a breakdown. I thought you were just being…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

“You thought I was just being?”

“Do we have to have the conversation like this? I feel like I’m a villain in a bad cop movie.”

Harrison dropped his hand and stepped away, allowing Andrew to straighten up and smooth out his clothes. Andrew hadn’t resisted the grip. In a fight, the two of them would be pretty evenly matched.

With a quirk of his lips, Andrew muttered, “We’ve shifted to rather melodramatic tactics lately, haven’t we?”

Harrison recognized the irony but was too annoyed to find it amusing. “You thought I was just being what?” he prompted, his voice still cold.

Andrew arched one eyebrow. “I thought you were being overprotective. You have to admit you’ve been tense. And you treat every whim of Marietta’s like it’s a summons of the god.”

Harrison made a gruff sound of protest.

“Well,” Andrew continued, as if Harrison had actually spoken his objection. “You seem to be unnaturally attuned to anything she might want—new clothes, massages, trips to Dover, and whatnot. I know now this wasn’t a whim, but that’s what I thought.” Andrew gave him a crooked grin. “I know no one gives me credit for having a brain around here, but I’d have to be a blind idiot not to know you’ve fallen hard for this girl.”

Harrison stared at him stonily.

“Not that I blame you. She’s gorgeous—and full of fun and passion. I wouldn’t mind—”

Harrison took a threatening step forward.

Andrew threw up his hands. “Just a joke. Don’t haul me up against the wall again. My poor nerves can’t take it.”

Despite himself, Harrison relaxed and shook his head in amusement. It was impossible to stay angry at his brother.

Sobering, Andrew continued. “But seriously. You know I’ve been giving her the Grace treatment.”

“I noticed you’ve been very free with your hands.”

“How could I resist? But I’ve got to tell you—she’s no Grace. She has completely ignored every attempt of mine to seduce her. And I see no evidence of any deceit or pretense. She’s for real. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah,” Harrison muttered, focusing on a blank spot on the wall.

“And she has eyes for no one but you.”

Harrison flashed a quick look at his brother.

Andrew tried to hide his smile and changed the subject. “What do you suppose is going on with the beer? That wasn’t like any allergy or food aversion I’ve ever seen.”

“I know,” Harrison said, feeling that knot of worry return to his gut.

“It was like she was terrified of it. Like a phobia.”

“A phobia is exactly what it is.”

Andrew rubbed his face with both hands. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Me, either.”

“Anyway, I better get back to the party or Lord Uncle will call me out for desertion.” For the first time, he looked a little awkward. “I give you a hard time. After all, somebody has to. But you know I…” He cleared his throat.

Harrison gave Andrew a soft punch on the shoulder. “I know what you mean. But let’s not descend into predictable sentimentality.”

Andrew laughed and returned to the dinner party.

Thinking about the trauma Marietta associated with beer, Harrison stood in the hallway a long time, staring at the closed door to her guest suite.

Chapter Nine

Marietta woke up the next morning feeling like an absolute fool.

She always felt silly after an episode involving beer, but this was the worst one she’d ever experienced. Last night, she’d been too upset to worry about the impression she’d left on the dinner guests. Now her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Damon probably thought she belonged under professional care. And Harrison… He’d been thoughtful and considerate, but he must think she was crazy. What rational person had a breakdown from sitting near a glass of beer?

Having slept in later than usual due to exhaustion, she was tempted to stay in bed all morning to avoid facing any of the Damons. She desperately wanted to be home with her family, where she’d always been safe. But she wouldn’t let herself be a coward, so she showered and dressed in jeans and a white eyelet shirt. Then she went downstairs, hoping the Damons wouldn’t treat her differently.

Gordon greeted her brightly. He asked about her health but didn’t eye her with pity or contempt. Then he told her Harrison had gone to London for the day. Encouraged by a sense of normalcy, she agreed to brunch on the terrace as Gordon suggested.

Having eaten almost nothing last night, she enjoyed the frittata, potato pancakes, fruit, and pastries. As she drank her cocoa and nibbled on a sweet roll, Damon strolled out and put his hand on the chair next to hers.

“Gordon said he was offering brunch. Do you mind if I join you?”

Marietta sat a little straighter. “Please do. It’s delicious.”

“It looks like you’re feeling better this morning.” Damon poured himself a cup of coffee and smiled at her.

“I am. I’m so sorry about the scene—”

“Please, my dear. Don’t apologize. It was hardly something you could help.”

She waited for him to question her bizarre eccentricity, but he didn’t. He thanked the maid who brought out his plate, and then draped his napkin on his lap.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Damon said, his words so innocuous Marietta was immediately suspicious. She made an affirmative murmur, and he continued, “I love days like this—cool and sunny. They’re few and far between here. They always make me nostalgic.”

“Nostalgic for what?” she asked, her curiosity overcoming her wariness.

“This weather reminds me of my childhood. I was born in New England, you know. I had two brothers. Both of them are dead now. Only my sister is left.”

Despite her conflicted feelings for this complex man, Marietta’s heart lurched. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. I don’t remember my sister very much, but I know how hard it was to lose her. If I’d had more years to get to know her, like Harrison and Andrew, for instance…”

Damon chuckled. “They used to fight like tigers as kids.”

“I’m sure. And they still seem to rub each other the wrong way a lot. But they’re obviously close.”

“They always were.” His eyes slanted to her face. “Has he told you about his parents?”

“I know the basics. It was a plane crash?”

“It was a private plane. Bad weather. An old story. They started talking about the Damon Curse—and even more so after Michael died.” He cleared his throat. “Both of my brothers and their wives were on board. I was supposed to have joined them. Harrison was twelve when it happened.”

Marietta remembered Harrison’s face when she’d mentioned his parents. For just a moment, his expression had been heartbreaking.

“He was always an unusually mature boy, but I think the death of his parents was the turning point for him. He felt compelled to take care of his brother in the absence of their parents. They came to live with me, but obviously I’m not a parental kind of person. I did my best.”

“I’m sure you did wonderfully well. They adore you. You know that, right?”

He smiled. “Thank you for that, dear. You’re a remarkably generous woman.” Before she could respond, he went on, “Harrison has lived his life compelled to take care of everyone. Certainly those people he feels close to, but the sense of responsibility extends to anyone in his sphere of influence. I’ve seen him stop on the side of the road on his way to a wedding to change a stranger’s tire. Our stablemaster’s son is gifted with animals, so Harrison moved mountains to get him into the best veterinary school in the country.”

Marietta had no idea why Damon was telling her this, but she wanted to hear more. It felt intimate, made her feel closer to Harrison. “That sounds like him.”

“Last year, he was riding on the estate. There’s a stream he likes to jump on the north side. Did you happen to see it?”

“Yes. Andrew jumped it, but I didn’t feel quite up to it.”

“You saw the huge oak tree that hangs over it?”

“I think so,” Marietta said slowly. She was starting to get nervous, like she was about to hear something painful.

“That day last year, he jumped the stream near the tree, as was his habit in the mornings. A woman was so startled by his sudden appearance that she fell out of the tree.”

Marietta gasped. “What was she doing in the tree?”

“Bird watching. She had been following some sort of rare species. She broke her leg in the fall.”

“Oh, no.”

Damon nodded, his expression never faltering from placid serenity. “As you would expect, Harrison felt responsible. He took her to the hospital, and because she was from out of town and it was difficult for her to travel in her condition, he invited her to stay at the estate until she healed.” He paused. “She was in the cast for a couple of months. By the time the cast came off, she and Harrison were engaged.”

Marietta’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know he’d been engaged. How did they break up? She dumped him after all he’d done for her?”

Shaking his head, Damon continued his story. “That’s the story that has gone around because that’s the story she tells. She didn’t dump him. When Harrison discovered the truth about her, he very naturally wanted nothing more to do with Grace. He broke off the engagement.”

Grace. That was the woman’s name. Marietta froze, but her heart raced. She was about to learn something very important. “What did he find out?”

“The entire scenario of their meeting had been carefully planned. Long before Grace met Harrison, she’d researched everything about him and his family. She’d chosen him on purpose. Not because he was the eldest of my nephews—it’s well known the boys will split the inheritance equally. She chose Harrison because he was the one with the strongest sense of care and responsibility. Of the four, he was the one she could count on to commit to her once he felt responsible for her injury.”

Marietta’s hands shook. She wrapped her fingers around her mug. “But she broke her leg!”

“Yes. She broke her leg.”

“On purpose?”

“All of it was calculated. She was a lovely woman and an excellent actress. And she had an unfaltering determination to achieve her goal. To marry a billionaire.”

“Oh God!” Marietta was torn between intense pity and bone-deep anger. “How could she? She broke Harrison’s heart?”

“I don’t think he was truly in love with her. But he was attracted to her and believed they would get along very well. He was committed. When he discovered the truth, he was utterly humiliated. By now, you know how proud he is. He felt used and foolish and helpless. I’m not sure he ever really got over it.”

“No wonder he was so hateful to me when he found out who I was.”

Damon inclined his head and gave Marietta a mild smile. “He thought it had happened again.”

“But surely he doesn’t still think… You must know, sir, that I didn’t plan anything. He can’t think…”

“I believe his initial assumptions about you have altered.” Damon finished his meal and leaned back in his chair. For a moment, he looked old and very tired. “He’s always been too hard on himself. Despite Grace’s deception, he blames himself. He feels like he should have known better.”

“Of course it’s not his fault! That cruel, selfish—” Fearing she might offend Damon’s sense of propriety, she broke off her denunciation of the woman she’d never met but despised.

Damon’s brown eyes—so much like Harrison’s—glinted with amusement. “I happen to agree.”

After tumultuous reflection, Marietta asked, “Why are you telling me all this?”

“I told you—I was feeling nostalgic.”

It wasn’t any sort of real answer. But Marietta didn’t dare to press him, afraid he’d close up completely.

She stared at the gardens and thought about Harrison.

After several minutes, Damon said, “He still tries to take care of everyone. He works constantly because he knows I can’t do everything on my own. It’s long past time for Andrew to take on more responsibility with the business, but Harrison can’t seem to let go. And sometimes I feel like he blames himself for Mich—”

When he cut himself off, Marietta sucked in a sharp breath, remembering what Harrison had said on the cliff at Dover. “You really think he blames himself for that?”

“That’s why,” Damon continued like she hadn’t spoken, “I’ve always hoped he would find the right woman. He needs a woman who needs him—someone he can love and take care of.”

Marietta jerked her head around to stare at him, breathless and confused.

Damon continued without any particular inflection, “But one strong enough to also take care of him.”

…

The conversation with Damon overwhelmed Marietta. After brunch, she took a walk and then tried to read in the library. Since she couldn’t focus, she went to her room, ostensibly to take a nap, but just huddled on the bed to sort through her feelings.

It had almost been easier when she couldn’t walk. She’d been happy most of the time, and it hadn’t felt like so many things could hurt her. Now, anything new, anything potentially dangerous, paralyzed her.

Her feelings for Harrison were new. And incredibly dangerous.

She rode with Andrew later in the afternoon and was disappointed that Harrison didn’t come back in time for dinner. She wasn’t sure what she’d say to him or if she’d say anything at all, but she wanted to see him.

He still wasn’t home at eleven, when she gave up and went to bed. She couldn’t sleep, though. Even after she’d finished another romance, she was restless and jittery. Finally, at one forty-five in the morning, she rolled out of bed.

She needed exercise and decided to take a brisk walk through the halls. There were certainly enough of them in the mansion to wear her out.

She avoided the far wing, where the Damon men’s bedrooms were. After a few rounds through the rest of the halls, she was startled to see Gordon coming out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee.

“Did you need anything, miss?”

“Oh, no. Sorry if I surprised you. I was just blowing off some steam.” Her brows drew together as she processed his errand. “Who’s that coffee for?”

He hesitated, which was answer enough.

Her lips curled downward. “It’s for Harrison, isn’t it? And I’ll bet it’s not decaf. Is he working? At this time of night?”

Gordon cleared his throat. “It is as you say, miss.” But there was a glint of understanding in his blue eyes.

“Is there some emergency? Is that why he’s working so late?”

“He rarely goes to bed before two.”

“And he gets up at the crack of dawn.” After their night together, he’d woken at four to start working. She stuck her hands on her hips. “Where is he?”

He took one look at her expression and lowered his eyes—but not before she’d seen the twinkle of appreciation. “In his office, miss. The last door on the right.”

“I’ll take him his coffee,” she muttered and strode down the hall.

She rapped lightly on the door the way Gordon did and then pushed into the office before hearing an answer. It was a small room she’d never seen before. There was one wall of bookcases and a comfortable leather chair, but otherwise it was filled with boring office furniture and equipment. The large window was nice, at least, and must offer an ideal view of the grassy field and the wooded hills beyond.

Harrison sat at a computer desk, facing away from the door. He seemed to be comparing something on the computer screen to a document in his hands. “Thanks, Gordon,” he said. “Just put it on the desk.”

She slammed the coffee on the desk so hard some of it slopped onto her hand. The gesture was mostly for dramatic effect, and it worked.

Harrison whipped his chair around. His eyes widened when he saw her. Immediately following his surprise was a look of delight, as if seeing her when he hadn’t expected it made him happy. “Etta, what are you doing here?”

She was touched by his pleased expression but too annoyed to let it distract her. “I’m bringing you your coffee.”

His forehead wrinkled as he studied her. “Have I done something stupid I don’t know about?” His voice held a teasing note, and his eyes lingered on her white tank top, her cotton pajama pants, and her bare feet. “Let me just finish this up, and then you can lecture me to your heart’s content.”

His fond regard and affectionate tone tempted her to do as he said, because she so wanted to see where it might lead.

But he worked until two in the morning, trying to fix everyone’s problems but his own, and needed someone to tell him his behavior was unreasonable.

Harrison looked adorably confused. Although he’d removed his jacket he still wore the rest of his gray suit. He had barely loosened his tie. It was a ridiculous thing to be wearing at this time of night. “If you’ll hand me my coffee,” he said, “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

She scowled at him. Then, she marched over to the window, opened it, and dumped the coffee out.

“What the hell?” Harrison half rose from his desk chair, his mouth falling open.

Ignoring his question, she walked over to the computer desk and found what she was looking for. “Have you saved your stuff?”

“What?”

“Do you have any unsaved documents open on your computer?”

“No, but I still don’t—”

Marietta turned off the power strip. The computer, monitor, printer, fax machine, desk lamp, and a device she didn’t recognize shut down simultaneously. She was so pleased with herself, she wanted to grin, but decided that might not be wise.

“Etta! What’s gotten into you?” Harrison no longer sounded fond or teasing. He sounded peeved. “I was working.”