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Authors: Laura Lee Guhrke
Tags: Guilty Book 3
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moved closer. His hip brushed her shoulder. "I do not want us to spend our lives finding endless ways to tear each other apart. It takes too much out of me."
"I do not want that, either," she said quietly. "But nor do I want to live with you again."
"You have made that quite clear over the years, believe me. Saying it yet again is not necessary."
Whatever she said was the wrong thing, it seemed. "Do you intend to honor my request or not?" she asked as if it were a matter of supreme indifference to her either way.
"You are only postponing the inevitable."
"Perhaps." She turned her head and looked up at him. "Perhaps not."
"I am not going to walk away, Viola. Not this time."
Of course he would walk away. He always did. It was just a matter of time before he left her. Then the pretty face or shapely figure of some woman would draw his attention, catch his desire, and she would have to sit across from that woman at some party. Again.
He saw her thoughts in her countenance. He raked a hand through his hair. "How much time are you asking for?"
The rest of our lives . She thought about how long it would take him to give up and walk away and leave her in peace. "Three months."
"Not a prayer." He walked back around her desk and faced her. "I shall give you three weeks."
"You are not serious."
"Three weeks, Viola. And during those three weeks, we are going to be spending a great deal of time together."
She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. "That is not possible. We both have commitments, engagements—"
"We shall be forced to rearrange some of them.
We are going to spend time with each other."
Panic swamped her. "Time to do what? We have no mutual friends. Except for Dylan and Grace, of course, and only because they refuse to take sides. We have no shared interests, nothing to talk about, nothing in common."
"We used to find plenty of things to talk about. And plenty of things to do. Remember?"
There was something almost tender in that last word. She ignored it. "We do not even go to the same parties. We move in utterly different circles."
"That is going to change. It won't be long before Lord and Lady Hammond begin receiving the same invitations about town. I shall see to it."
"Oh, heavens," she said, appalled. "I was right. You do live to torture me."
"If there is ever going to be a truce between us, it starts with being together, whether we are living in the same house or not."
"I don't want a truce. I don't want to be together."
"But you do want time," he pointed out. "You want those three weeks, you agree to the terms. Otherwise, I will petition the House of Lords right now and you and I will be sharing the same house and the same bed in about two days."
He meant it. When John got that amber-hard look in his eyes, there was no moving him. She had learned that from bitter experience. "Very well," she said, capitulating even as resentment filled her that she had no choice but to do so.
"Three weeks it is. But I warn you, Hammond, I am going to do everything I can to make you see this attempt at reconciliation is futile and that it would be better to abandon it altogether."
"I am warned, then. Be ready Wednesday at two o'clock ."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you to my house in Bloomsbury Square ."
She eyed him with suspicion and a hint of alarm. "Whatever for?"
"No need to look so distressed, Viola. I'm not kidnapping you. I simply want you to see the place. If you choose that as our London residence when the three weeks are up, you might wish to make some changes to it beforehand."
"I doubt it."
"You may spend whatever you like."
"T hank you so much for your generosity, Hammond , in putting my income from Anthony at my disposal, but—"
"And my income as well," he interrupted. "The estates and investments of the viscountcy are highly profitable, and that is t hank s to both of us."
She hated it when he was reasonable. That made her feel some stupid sense of obligation that she had to be
"I do not want that, either," she said quietly. "But nor do I want to live with you again."
"You have made that quite clear over the years, believe me. Saying it yet again is not necessary."
Whatever she said was the wrong thing, it seemed. "Do you intend to honor my request or not?" she asked as if it were a matter of supreme indifference to her either way.
"You are only postponing the inevitable."
"Perhaps." She turned her head and looked up at him. "Perhaps not."
"I am not going to walk away, Viola. Not this time."
Of course he would walk away. He always did. It was just a matter of time before he left her. Then the pretty face or shapely figure of some woman would draw his attention, catch his desire, and she would have to sit across from that woman at some party. Again.
He saw her thoughts in her countenance. He raked a hand through his hair. "How much time are you asking for?"
The rest of our lives . She thought about how long it would take him to give up and walk away and leave her in peace. "Three months."
"Not a prayer." He walked back around her desk and faced her. "I shall give you three weeks."
"You are not serious."
"Three weeks, Viola. And during those three weeks, we are going to be spending a great deal of time together."
She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. "That is not possible. We both have commitments, engagements—"
"We shall be forced to rearrange some of them.
We are going to spend time with each other."
Panic swamped her. "Time to do what? We have no mutual friends. Except for Dylan and Grace, of course, and only because they refuse to take sides. We have no shared interests, nothing to talk about, nothing in common."
"We used to find plenty of things to talk about. And plenty of things to do. Remember?"
There was something almost tender in that last word. She ignored it. "We do not even go to the same parties. We move in utterly different circles."
"That is going to change. It won't be long before Lord and Lady Hammond begin receiving the same invitations about town. I shall see to it."
"Oh, heavens," she said, appalled. "I was right. You do live to torture me."
"If there is ever going to be a truce between us, it starts with being together, whether we are living in the same house or not."
"I don't want a truce. I don't want to be together."
"But you do want time," he pointed out. "You want those three weeks, you agree to the terms. Otherwise, I will petition the House of Lords right now and you and I will be sharing the same house and the same bed in about two days."
He meant it. When John got that amber-hard look in his eyes, there was no moving him. She had learned that from bitter experience. "Very well," she said, capitulating even as resentment filled her that she had no choice but to do so.
"Three weeks it is. But I warn you, Hammond, I am going to do everything I can to make you see this attempt at reconciliation is futile and that it would be better to abandon it altogether."
"I am warned, then. Be ready Wednesday at two o'clock ."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you to my house in Bloomsbury Square ."
She eyed him with suspicion and a hint of alarm. "Whatever for?"
"No need to look so distressed, Viola. I'm not kidnapping you. I simply want you to see the place. If you choose that as our London residence when the three weeks are up, you might wish to make some changes to it beforehand."
"I doubt it."
"You may spend whatever you like."
"T hank you so much for your generosity, Hammond , in putting my income from Anthony at my disposal, but—"
"And my income as well," he interrupted. "The estates and investments of the viscountcy are highly profitable, and that is t hank s to both of us."
She hated it when he was reasonable. That made her feel some stupid sense of obligation that she had to be
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