Page 35 of Her Tempting Traitor
Aunt Zilphia
In the months since his arrival at Inverlochy Castle, Cassian had indeed taken tea with Sir Richard’s wife…but only when he couldn’t avoid it. Lady Zilphia on her own tended to be flighty and a bit adorable, telling stories about the adventures she’d shared with her husband before he’d been made a knight for “services to the Crown”—genteel code for “donating a pile of money when the royal family made yet another stupid investment.”
But ifher Dickie angelhimself was present, then Cassian was instantly irrelevant…and often nauseated. The two of them would sit in each other’s space and kiss and coo like the lovebirds they kept in the ballroom.
Luckily, the note hadn’t mentioned Sir Richard. Ithadon the other hand, said that Gus would be present, and Cassian always welcomed the chance to spend time with his son—without angering the lad, if at all possible.
The fact that Gabby would be there?
Well, he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.
In the hours since that incredibly, terrifying kiss—since learning so much about Gabby—since sharing that with her… Cassian had been torn.
He’d decided that day that he couldn’t continue to plan for his son’s future elsewhere, not when Gus already had a future here at Inverlochy. He’d also learned that the attraction he’d felt for Miss Gabrielle Butcombe, genteel if impoverished sister of a most outlandish doctor, was entirely and completely reciprocated.
He could have her.
She would give herself to him.
Her response to his touch had made that clear.
And…he wanted her. But should he give in? He was a man living in limbo, a man who didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.
Butdamnation! Helikedher! He liked her wit, he liked her boldness. He liked her insights—brilliant and sometimes alarming, at what she couldseebeyond the obvious. He liked talking to her, and while he’d never been one of those arses who didn’t think a woman could be a good conversationalist, he’d never met one quite like Gabby.
Never met a woman so interesting and…andfun.
He liked…being around her. He liked her quips at the dinner table, liked the way she asked his opinion and then seemed interested in his thoughts—on politics, on science, on customs of people around the world. He liked the way she could quote books on animal husbandry in such detail that she had her brother panicking, and that she seemed to do it to tease the poor man. He liked her stories of her childhood, which sounded untamed and wild and free…so much like Gabby herself.
Aye, Cassian liked her, liked spending time with her. Liked looking at her.
She was the kind of lass it would be easy to lose his heart to.
But starting an affair with a willing lass who would only be in his life a short time… That was either a brilliant idea or a stupid one.
Cassian knew which one his cock preferred.
It had made its preferences known for hours each night, keeping him awake imagining what Gabby’s skin would taste like. How she would gasp and sigh and cry his name. How she would ask for more…
Cassian. I…I liked the way your kiss made me feel. I would like to see how you could make me feel.
She was bold and exciting, and he knew she would meet his passion with her own.
That was a powerful thought.
Even a night’s worth of hand-friggings hadn’t helped diminish his arousal, although theyhadeventually helped him sleep, thank fook.
Ye didnae have a choice. Quit dallying and go figure out which of the four salons they’re in.
It was the third one, the large salon which looked out over the gardens, where Gus had found him the day Gabby and her brother had arrived. Holding his back straight and concentrating on smooth steps, Cassian’s careful pace took him across the carpet.
“Cassian, you made it!” Lady Zilphia declared with breathless happiness. He bent over her hand, then turned to the beautiful redhead sitting elegantly at her side.
“Miss Butcombe,” he murmured, inclining his head.
The way she grinned, and the sparkle in her eye, when she held out her hand for him to bow over it told him thatshewas also thinking of that kiss in the barn.
Or perhaps what had come after it.
