His Wicked Embrace novel Chapter 13

"I do not have favorites. How can you say that?"

Regret stung him. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm just... I had very little sleep last night. Why don't we have tea tomorrow?" He offered her an olive branch, hoping she would accept. He did adore her, even when she was constantly interfering in his life.

Jane smiled. "Tea?"

"Or dinner, or whatever you wish." He rubbed his temples as a fresh headache began to pound behind his eyes.

"Well, you could come to Lord Raleigh's ball tonight and meet this young woman. Her name is Miss Hunt." The scheming gleam was back in her eyes, and he knew better than to resist.

"Very well. I'll come. But one dance, do you hear? If Miss Hunt proves uninteresting, that should be the end of the matter."

"Of course," she agreed. "Now, what was really going on between you and Avery?"

He tsked and waved a finger at her. "You only get one favor from me today, Mother. I shall not be telling you anything else."

"So be it. But take care, Lawrence. The bonds of brotherhood should be forever. If you mistreat yours, you might lose him."

"The same should be said to him," Lawrence grumbled.

"It will be." She drank the remnants of her tea and then collected her gloves and stood. Lawrence got to his feet and leaned in to kiss his mother's cheek.

"See you this evening. Don't be late."

"Yes, Mother." He escorted her to the door and watched her leave. Only after her coach carried her far away did he rush back upstairs to his chambers with a tray of food.

Zehra was reading again, wearing that awful gown from the brothel. Well, it wasn't awful, but it was far too tempting in all the wrong ways. She needed new clothes fit for a princess, not a lightskirt.

"Zehra, I was planning to have the modiste come here to fit you for gowns, but perhaps you should like to go out, get a bit of fresh air?" he placed the tray on the table and walked over to her.

Zehra's eyes flashed with excitement. "Could we?" She set the novel down and was on her feet in an instant. The smile made his heart swell against his ribs. Was it possible to feel too happy?

"Yes, I thought it might be nice to spend the day out on the town, buy you whatever you need. I'm afraid I've got to go out tonight, but..." At least I could spend the day with you.

"Thank you, my lord." She rushed over to him and curled her arms around his neck. For a moment, he was stunned, unsure what to do or say. It was an innocent embrace, yet it was a wicked temptation to him as well. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. Her hair carried a soft floral scent, and he longed to bury his nose in those silken tresses.

"Why don't you have some breakfast, and then we'll take my coach to Bond Street when you're ready."

Zehra released him and he did the same, hating that he had to let her go. It was so unlike him. He wasn't the sort who clung to women, and he certainly didn't like women hanging on him, but with Zehra, he was discovering his usual preferences were no longer applicable.

She seated herself in the chair by the fire and ate her breakfast. Lawrence intended to join her in the companion chair.

"Was that your brother?"

He froze at her question, his hands holding the book he'd retrieved from the chair before he sat down.

"Er...yes. How did you know?"

She tilted her head. "I was worried when you didn't return. I came down the stairs a little and heard you quarreling...over me." Rather than look embarrassed, she met his gaze with a flinty resolve.

Lawrence knew he had to tell her the truth. "My brother is...well...he is involved in services for His Majesty, and it was he who sent me to the White House. I was not supposed to bid on anyone, only observe. He was to come later with the Bow Street Runners and a magistrate to catch both the slavers and the buyers together."

"And he is angry because you bought me?" Those eyes of hers were haunting, so steady and sure.

"Yes, he's quite furious with me." Lawrence stroked the spine of the novel in his hands. "Our tempers got a tad out of hand."

Zehra made a soft sound that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

"You don't have any siblings, do you?" he asked.

She nibbled on a piece of toast and shook her head. "My mother had a second child, a son, but he died of a fever at six months. He was a beautiful baby, and even though I was only four years old when he passed, I adored him. I still remember his brown eyes, warm and bright like my father's." Her voice became raw with emotion. Lawrence shifted in his chair beside her, amazed at how easily he could sit and talk with her, even of painful things.

"They are." She turned to him. She'd finished the last bit of her breakfast. "What did your brother say that upset you?"

Damn, he'd hoped she'd forgotten.

"Zehra..." he began, dreading every word. "I have to send you home."

"No!" She rose from the chair and fell at his feet, clutching his hands in hers.

"Not right away! Not until we are sure you will be safe."

"No, please, let me stay! I will be safer here."

Her begging tore at his heart. "I would, but it's not up to me. Avery is in a position of power, and his people are trying to avoid an incident with your country. If he insists that you go, then I can't stop him from taking you. I have convinced him to give us a week."

"A week..." She clenched his hands tighter, and he encouraged her to rise. He never wanted this woman to prostrate herself before him or any man.

"I have seven days to see to your happiness, Zehra, in whatever way I can. I've already failed to keep my word on everything else and..." He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. When he looked upon her now, he knew it wasn't simple lust he felt as he'd originally thought. She made him want to be a better man, a man worthy of her. "As I said, my brother's people are doing all they can to make sure you will be safe. You can trust him."

"Seven days will be enough," she whispered, and then she did something he never could have expected. She leaned into him and kissed his startled lips. The meeting was brief yet full of heated hope. A kiss had never been like this, never so real, so eternal, yet over too soon. When she pulled back, he stared at her, stunned.

"Zehra, you mustn't think that you need to do that."

Her shy smile now held a hint of boldness. "I do not wish to make you beholden unto me, or to win your favor. I believe you when you say your brother has captured those who enslaved me and that his people will do what they can to return me safely home. But if I must leave, then I wish to have some joy before I go. With you."

He understood what she was telling him. This still might have been borne from her desperate desire to stay, but if their time together was to be so brief, then why shouldn't they enjoy it?

"As you wish," he promised, gazing deep into her eyes. If he'd ever had a moment of doubt that she was a princess, those doubts were banished now. No matter what Avery said, she was royalty.

I will give you one week of joy before you go, my princess.