The Elusive Lord Everhart: The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series by Vivienne Lorret Page B

those be?”
    “You know very well what they are.” She did not appreciate being the cause of his amusement when she was sacrificing her humility for his sake. They had been among the same circle of friends at one time, but apparently he’d forgotten. “Every nuance of your character heightens your reputation as a rake and seducer. I was merely startled at being a first-time recipient. Normally, I am singled out for your reproach, though you did manage to add enough of that as well.” Calliope nearly gasped at the boldness of her speech. Perhaps being on the shelf for so long had made her more brazen and less willing to leave matters unsaid.
    Everhart made no comment.
    The heat of a blush rose to her cheeks. “Never fear, Everhart, your resolve to detest me is still very much intact.”
    G abriel held his breath. This torment went beyond the pale.
    Surely, this must be a dream that brought Calliope Croft to him. Any moment he would awaken to see the vast empty map room. The softness of her body pressed against his side, the subtle shifting of her supple breast with every step must be a fantasy created by his cruel mind. “Yes.”
    “Is that your only response?” She lifted her face, annoyance evident in the way her slender brows drew together. Her brown eyes glittered like moonlight across wet sand or, given her mood, more like lightning striking the shore. Dark golden waves of hair cascaded down from a center part in her hair and swayed like a curtain against her cheek. He was so tempted to lift those strands to his lips, to feel the softness and draw in her unique rosewater-and-mint fragrance, that his hand twitched. Fighting the impulse, he curled his hand into a fist and then nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity of his action.
    It had been five long years since he’d stood near her, let alone touched her. Did he actually think that the simple act of keeping his hand fisted would be enough to rein in his desire?
    He shook his head. “I do not detest you.”
    “It is fine with me, you know. I am a complete person with or without your approval.” She stopped as they neared the sofa and lowered her arm from around his waist.
    He’d always like that about her—the aura of completeness that surrounded her. She knew her own mind, her likes and dislikes, and hadn’t cowed to the influence of those around her. Part of him wished she’d married Brightwell—so that she was beyond his reach in a manner that would have put a stop to the incomprehensible yearning he’d once felt. And perhaps still did.
    “I did not plan to hurt your friend all those years ago,” she added suddenly, as if her thoughts were in alignment with his. What cruel joke would it be if they were always in line with his, even after all this time?
    Or perhaps that was fanciful thinking and the reason was because Brightwell—both in her refusal and Gabriel’s involvement—was always between them.
    “Surely even you can see that it has worked out the better for him in the end,” she continued. “I would not have made Brightwell happy.”
    The notion was preposterous. “And why wouldn’t you have made him happy?”
    “Because I did not love him.”
    The forthright simplicity of her statement irritated him, but he did not take any time to question the reason. “Perhaps you do not know what love is.” Love is agony, sacrifice, and seeing what you want but knowing you can’t have it. Knowing that there would be nothing left if you surrendered to it .
    “I have a deeper understanding of that emotion than you could ever comprehend,” she spat, her nostrils flaring. “And I’ve had quite enough of your censure for one evening.”
    Without thinking, he reached out to stop her from leaving. Once again, his hands encircled her upper arms, his fingertips nestled into her warmth. He couldn’t resist the barest caress. Odd, but even after five years it seemed impossible to be this close and not touch her.
    “First you accuse me of seduction,