Southern Seduction (13 page)

“I stood in the doorway watching her walk away, the wind whipping her cloak to the side.
A bolt of lightning struck in the distance, causing me to jump back and shut my eyes just like I always did when we were having a storm.

“When I opened my eyes again, she was gone.”

“You were young,” Travis pointed out. “I can see how you would have been frightened, but surely you got to go home on holiday visits to see your mother.”

“No.
I never returned home again. All my holidays were spent at Spencer Girls School, and I only saw my mother but one other time.”

“When was that?”

“I had just turned sixteen, and she came to school to visit. She said she wanted to see me, and see how I had turned out. Then she told me about my father. It seemed the lord duke had a wife.” Brooke drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “I can see it all as if it were yesterday,” she said in a small voice.

Travis said nothing because he didn’t want to interrupt, but he felt her anguish.

“My mother stood up to leave, but before she did she reached over to kiss me on the cheek. I drew back. After all that time, the woman was a stranger to me. I felt nothing for her.”

“She said she understood, and then she reached for her cloak and fastened the frog under her throat.
Believe it or not, it was yet another stormy day.

“I walked with Mother to the front door and opened it for her.
She tugged the hood of her cloak over her hair. Just before she stepped outside into the rain, she reached into her purse and handed me a slip of paper, and told me if I ever needed help, this woman would help me.

“I thanked her and watched her walk out into the rain, and somehow I knew she was walking out of my life.
The thunder rumbled and I trembled just like I always had. But I was determined not to move this time.

“Out of nowhere a bolt of lightning
struck the oak tree next to the walkway. It exploded. I screamed to warn her. But it was too late. The tree fell, crushing my mother beneath its weight,” Brooke said, her voice so soft that Travis strained to hear what she was saying.

“I ran to her,” Brooke said in a dead sounding voice.
“I was too late, though. All I could do was hold her head in my lap until somebody came to drag me out of the storm. But before I left I bent down and kissed her on the cheek.”

Travis didn’t know what to say.
Most women would have been in tears, but Brooke hadn’t made the first whimper. What kind of woman was she -- not the pampered lady he’d first thought her to be.

Gently, he lifted Brooke’s chin.
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he gazed into them.

Travis told himself to walk away.

He told himself to leave her.

But found he wasn’t too good at listening to his own advice.
What was it about Brooke that made him burn . . . made him want to touch her . . . made him want to taste her? He could usually get any woman out of his system, but this one was different. Maybe if he kissed her, it would frighten her enough to leave and also satisfy his curiosity.

Unable to resist her poignant sweetness any longer, Travis lowered his mouth to Brooke’s.
Her eyelids fluttered shut, and her arms wound inside his jacket and around his back. She yielded with a sigh of surrender as he moved his mouth over hers and devoured its softness. God, she was sweet.

Vaguely, he could hear the distant thunder and the rain splattering as it hit the railing of the veranda, but his thoughts were more on the storm that brewed within him than the storm outside.

Brooke was caught off balance. She usually knew when a man was going to kiss her and from there everything would be planned. But for just a moment, before Travis kissed her, his blue eyes had been so warm and understanding as his gaze drifted down to her lips. The feeling stunned her, sweeping all logical thoughts completely from her mind.

His kiss was tender, more so than she could have imagined coming from a powerful man such as Travis.
He was so gentle with her that she wanted to cry. Brooke had never felt so out of control in her life as a jolt of wild desire shot all over her body.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt like a virgin as if she’d never made love before.
He parted her lips, and she moaned with pleasure. She touched her tongue to his and a delicious shiver slid down her spine.

Travis jerked back for a just a moment.
“Damnation,” he swore. Then he crushed her to him again, taking her mouth with urgent hunger. He brushed his hand down the length of her back until it came to rest on her hips.

Brooke had him where she wanted him, and he had definitely made her want him as well.
She wasn’t used to that.

B
ut somehow over the past two years she seemed to have forgotten everything she knew about handling me. Or maybe she’d lost the desire to seduce a man.

Maybe she wanted more.

Travis had, in the short time she been here, managed to turn her head to mush.

Her body was molded to his and she could feel how much he wanted her.
All she had to do was make a move . . . to encourage him . . . but she couldn’t. She couldn’t!

She shifted, and Travis’s mouth slipped lower.
He placed kisses along the curve of her neck, delectable kisses that were driving her wild. The reasonable side of her head told Brooke to reach out and take what she needed, but some little voice, one she’d never heard before, kept saying “I want more.” She pushed Travis away, surprising herself as much as she did him.

The change in his face was immediate and he quickly regained control of his body.

Travis had never held anyone like this woman. She fit him much too well. His chest tightened and ached as his senses returned to him. At least her senses had returned first. “This was a mistake,” Travis rasped out. “I’m sorry, but I’m marrying someone else.”

Brooke stared at Travis, knowing she’d lost her mind.
She had had him right where she wanted him, yet she had stopped, and she had no idea why. There was nothing left to do or say, so she left him.

D
amn her conscious for interfering.

S
he didn’t remember her steps as she walked out of the room. The only thing she could hear screaming in her head was why.

Brooke could only hope to God her sanity returned soon.

Chapter Eight

What in the hell was the matter with her?

That one question had been raging through Brooke’s mind over and over again.
Last night she’d forgotten everything she’d ever learned about seduction. She knew how to turn off her emotions – she’d taught herself to feel nothing years ago and it had worked perfectly all this time. It was the only way she had survived.

After dismissing Mille Anne, Brooke w
andered over to the window although she had no intention of looking out. She just needed a few minutes to herself. Glancing out the window, she could see some of the servants picking up the debris from last night's storm. The wind might have ceased, but the storm inside Brooke still raged with all its fury.

She closed her eyes and dew in a deep, wistful breath, feeling the magical kisses she’d shared with Travis last night.
She could still taste them.

Brooke had kissed many men before, but they’d been sloppy, wet kisses or mere pecks.
Travis made her feel things she’d never felt before. She'd never imagined it possible to feel deep desires, not only for lust but for some unknown emotion she couldn't put a name to.

That was the problem.

She’d lost control of the situation. And now she didn't know what to do.

Brooke closed her eyes again and shook her head.
How could she be so stupid? The first lesson she’d learned years ago was never to let any man get to close. Never let them know what you are thinking, and always keep then at arm’s length. It was the one rule she always followed.

That way
, when the time came, she could walk away and never look back with regrets. A few admirers had begged her to stay with them, but she’d pushed them aside. She had done everything on her own terms for so long that she truly believed she had ice in her veins.

Brooke could remember a certain Russian prince who’d written to her.
“I’ve been traveling in my carriage through the Ural mountains with your portrait on the seat opposite me. I long to see you, Brooke. Please come back to me.” She could have had anything she wanted from the prince, but she never went back to him.

Maybe she did have ice in her veins.

So what had happened to cause the ice to melt?

She didn’t even like Travis.
She couldn't possibly like the man . . . or did she? No, she didn’t like him, she told herself firmly. It should be easy to brush him off. She’d just slipped off course and forgotten the business side of the affair. Perhaps, she needed to have a talk with Travis. Then she could calmly point out that they were both business people, and being such, they should be able to tackle their situation with a decision that would benefit them both.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door, interrupting her thoughts.
“Come in,” Brooke said, turning toward the door.

“Good morning,” Eliza said as she bounced into the room.
“We missed you at breakfast.”

“I wasn’t very hungry this morning,” Brooke said, knowing the child spoke for herself.
“Is your uncle still downstairs?”

“No.
Uncle Travis went to see how much damage the storm did last night. I can’t believe I slept through the whole thing.”

“I can’t believe you did either.
It kept me up most of the night,” Brooke admitted. She still felt unnerved by the ferocity of the storm, but didn’t feel it necessary to go into details with the child.

“You should have come to my room,” Eliza said as she perched on the end of the bed.
“I would have kept you company.”

Brooke felt her face flush.
“I didn’t think about it at the time.” She hadn't really been capable of thinking. She didn’t add that it would have been much safer than where she ended up.

“Guess what?”

“What?” Brooke asked, seeing that Eliza was trying to tell her something.

“Cousin Travis said I may go to the party tonight for a little while.
So I need your help to pick out the perfect dress.”

“I’d love to,” Brooke said, strolling over to the child and offering her hand.
At least this was a distraction that would set her mind on something other than Travis. “Let’s go see what we have to work with.”

In Eliza’s room, they went through her wardrobe, examining each garment carefully.
Brooke would hold up a dress and then they’d promptly reject it, quickly moving on to the next gown.

“They all look too childish,” Eliza fretted.
“I will be thirteen years old in three more months, practically a woman. I don’t want to look like a little girl.”

Brooke smiled.
Eliza was in such a great hurry to grow up just like all girls her age. “I have an idea.” Brooke pulled out a soft pink dress of watered gauze. “This one is lovely," she said, holding the dress up to the girl's face. "I have some dark rose feathers in my room that we can use to accent the gown. We can ask Mammy to find us someone who can sew the feathers around the bottom of the dress. With a little lace across the top it will be quite fetching. What do you think?”

Eliza clapped her hands.
“That sounds lovely. You are absolutely wonderful. I’m so glad you are here instead of Hesione.”

Brooke turned.
“You don’t care for her?”

“No.”
Eliza sighed. “Not really.”

Brooke placed the dress on the bed and busied herself with the adjustments.
She tried not to act interested, but was dying to know about the other woman. “Your cousin obviously has a different opinion.”

“I think Travis has motives.”

"Motives?" Brooke arched an eyebrow as she considered the girl's statement. Then she said, “You mean you don't think love is his reason for marrying her?”

“I guess he likes Hesione well enough, but I think he’s marrying her because she comes from an affluent Creole family.”

“Travis doesn’t impress me as someone who cares about affluence.”

“You know him quite well already, I see,” Eliza said with a smile.

“I’m not too sure how well I know him, but he doesn’t impress me as someone who can be forced into doing anything he doesn't want to do.”

Eliza shrugged.
"True, and I shouldn’t be gossiping, but I think he is marrying Hesione to please my aunt.

"You see, her father disowned her when she had Travis out of wedlock.
I heard my mother talking about it once. Of course, she didn't know I was listening. She said my grandfather had plans for Aunt Margaret to marry a respectable Creole, but she met the duke and fell madly in love with him. She thought he’d leave his wife and stay with her, but that wasn’t to be.