Winning Lord West by Anna Campbell

like
acquaintances.”
    West arched his eyebrows. “When you’re
wandering around in a blissful daze, that will be difficult.”
    This time she did push away. He didn’t try to
stop her. Right now, she wasn’t going anywhere.
    “I hate to puncture your confidence, but it’s
possible there won’t be any bliss.” She paced as she spoke. Hers
was a restless soul, always had been.
    He frowned as he watched her move. Those long
legs ate up the carpet, and everything about her expressed energy
and purpose. She was the most exciting woman he’d ever known. “I’m
not a brute like Crewe.”
    The smile she cast him in passing was almost
fond. “I know you’re not.”
    He gaped at her in shock. “What did you
say?”
    She came to rest near the bed and curled her
hand around one of the carved posts. He gulped for air. The action
was a little too suggestive for his sanity. And the pity of it was
she had no clue.
    As if ensuring he understood, she spoke very
clearly. “I said you’re a better man than my late, unlamented
spouse. Why else are we having this conversation?”
    He frowned, struggling through the steam in
his brain to make sense of this momentous change. “You always said
we were cut from the same cloth.”
    “Yes, well, I was hurt and angry. Just now,
when I asked you to stop kissing me, you did. Crewe would have
rushed on to find his swinish satisfaction.”
    Did she know how much she betrayed about her
marriage? “Helena…”
    She glowered. “I told you not to feel sorry
for me. When I decided I wouldn’t share him with his whores, I
started sleeping with a pistol under my pillow. You might recall
his hunting accident, back in 1811. The one that didn’t kill
him, but left him with his arm in a sling.”
    “You?” What a woman she was. He wanted to
give three cheers.
    Her lips curled in bloodthirsty
self-satisfaction. “After that, he took me seriously.”
    “The worm. I’ll make it up to you.”
    She laughed without amusement. “You don’t
have to heal every hurt, West, although it’s sweet to think the
chivalrous boy still lurks under that worldly hide.”
    He winced at the word “sweet.” Between
falling at her feet like a poltroon and completely misinterpreting
her past, he was making a damned fool of himself. Something about
Helena undermined arrogance. Worse, he wanted to protect and
cherish her.
    How she’d scoff if he admitted that.
    “I always wished you well.”
    Her memorable features softened into true
beauty. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long to forgive you.”
    West released a breath that he felt he’d held
for years. Her resentment had always niggled like a stone in his
shoe. Whatever else tonight brought, he was damned grateful that at
last they reached an understanding.
    “At least you have.” When he made to close in
on her, she waved her hand to keep him at a distance.
    “I need to say this before we go on. Crewe
always said I’m…unnatural. It was my fault that he had to find ease
elsewhere.”
    That slimy, vicious sod. “That’s self-serving
spite.”
    “He could be spiteful. But…” She looked away
toward the window. “Perhaps he was right, and I’m incapable of a
woman’s response.”
    Helena incapable of desire? He’d never heard
such claptrap. “You forget I’ve held you in my arms.”
    “That was a long time ago.” Still she avoided
his eyes. These confidences tested her pride. “And we never…”
    “You were only sixteen, and my best friend’s
sister. I have a small measure of honor.”
    “Silas would have killed you.”
    “Slowly and painfully. And then he’d put my
body through a mincer.” West ran his hand through his hair.
“Helena, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you, apart from a
capacity to hold a grudge.”
    “I hope you’re right.” He made another move.
Again she gestured him back. “I haven’t finished.”
    With a theatrical sigh, he rolled his eyes.
“I was wrong. This is worse than contracting to build a