Read Online Stroke of Midnight by Olivia Drake - Free Book Online Page A

wrongheaded opinion of him.
    He traced the bow shape of her mouth, and she gave a little shiver of pleasure. “See?” he murmured. “You haven’t forgotten how it was between us.”
    Laura turned her head to avoid his caress. “What I haven’t forgotten is your disdain for propriety. You never did behave as a gentleman.”
    She stopped, apparently thinking better of mentioning their stolen embraces in darkened gardens, in closed carriages, and one memorable interlude in a closet in the midst of a party. But Alex needed no reminder. Every stroke, every kiss, every sigh, was branded into his memory. Despite his purpose back then, he’d fallen hard for her. What had begun as a calculated courtship had swiftly become genuine.
    So genuine that he could feel it still burning inside himself.
    He let his breath feather her cheek. “What we once shared was only the first course. A mere taste of the feast that I could have given you—and could still give you if only you would allow it.”
    Her lips parted slightly, and the sight tempted him sorely. He wanted what he’d been forced to deny himself, the chance to clasp that curvaceous body to his, to stir her to passion, to revel in her surrender. Ever so slightly, he moved closer, determined to claim that soft, sinful mouth of hers …
    Laura twisted free. She flew to the desk and snatched up a penknife, pointing the blade at him. “Stop! Or you’ll have a matching scar on your other cheek.”
    Alex held up his open palms to show that he meant her no harm. God! He didn’t trust her with that weapon. Not after the way she’d slashed him the last time they’d met.
    Yet he was more irked with himself than with her. If he’d been thinking with his brain, he’d have removed all sharp objects upon entering the office. Hell, he would never have attempted seduction in the first place. Laura was no longer the adoring debutante. She held a deep-seated grudge against him, and perhaps that was for the best. He needed no distractions from the task of determining what her father had done with the Blue Moon diamond.
    He strolled to the door, leaned a shoulder against the frame, and crossed his arms. “A simple no would have sufficed,” he said. “I haven’t yet sunk to such depths as to force a woman.”
    “I won’t be your light skirt. Not now or ever.”
    “A wise decision. An affair undoubtedly would be discomfiting for my aunt.”
    Laura eyed him mistrustfully as she slipped the penknife into the pocket of her apron. “I hope that means you won’t send me away,” she said. “Lady Josephine needs my companionship. She enjoys being with people. Yet apparently she never calls on anyone or goes anywhere—nor has anyone visited her in the time I’ve been here.”
    “What? She’s always had many friends.”
    “One has to pay calls in order for them to be returned.” Laura took a determined step toward him. “It’s apparent to me that she’s become too forgetful to organize her own schedule. Did you know that she had a desk drawer stuffed full of unanswered invitations?”
    Alex shook his head. He tried to think back on the last time he’d seen his aunt out in society—had it really been several years? Of late, his life had fallen into a pattern: playing cards at his club, taking his seat in Parliament, supervising his various estates. He still visited select friends when in town, but he’d grown bored with the superficiality of the ton. Each year the new crop of debutantes seemed more naive and giggly than the last, so that he had taken to avoiding most social events altogether.
    Some weeks ago, while at the races, he’d run into Lady Milford. She had expressed concern about his aunt, and he had agreed that a companion might be needed. Then he had engaged in a round of betting and had promptly forgotten about it.
    “I suppose it’s my fault,” he now admitted ruefully. “I seldom attend balls and parties. I didn’t realize I’d been neglecting Aunt