Proof by Seduction (Carhart #1)

“What did you say?”


“I said, you’ll never earn another point again. I haven’t smiled since you left me, and I miss it.” He kicked at the ground, his eyes tracing the dust. “I miss you.”

“No, before that.”

“Take this elephant—”

“After.”

He looked up. That feral light shone in his eyes again, but this time the wild look was a plea. A lion yearning to be freed from its cage. “Take me.” His voice was thick and husky. “Please. Jenny. I’m begging you.”

She didn’t know what to say in answer. He’d shocked the words right out of her skin. She could only stare, as some frozen expanse inside her tingled to life. It hurt to want.

“I can’t take this elephant,” she said, focusing on the one part of what he’d said that she could understand. “Do you know how miserable this poor beast will be in winter? This is cruel.”

“She’s African,” Gareth said disjointedly. “From the bush. I was thinking maybe she could go back.”

“Back? Back where? Back how?”

“Back to Southern Africa. Perhaps this winter. The trip might take six months.” His voice took on a wistful quality. “I’ve always wanted to go. It’s supposed to be a lovely place. Especially for someone with theories on bird migration…” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “But.”

“But surely Lord Blakely could not abandon his estates for so long.”

“No. Lord Blakely could not. Not unless he had someone he could trust to run his estates in his absence. And Lord Blakely…Well, Lord Blakely did not trust anyone.”

“Lord Blakely is talking about himself in the third person, past tense,” Jenny said. “It’s disturbing.”

“Then let me switch to the first person plural. What Lord Blakely could not do, we can. I would not trust anyone else to manage my estates, not for the shortest space of time, because I thought I was better than everyone else. I was wrong. You see, Jenny, I need you. I need someone who will see the strength buried deep in the hearts of men. Someone who can tap into that strength. I need someone who can look at a man and move him to become more. I can’t do it alone.”

Jenny looked at the elephant. No thinking man would ever have purchased an elephant as a wedding gift. And yet there it stood. It flicked an ear at the two of them—likely elephant language for, go on, this dramatic performance is quite interesting.

There was only one possible conclusion. Gareth had stopped thinking. For the first time in a week, Jenny allowed herself to hope. Really hope. She reached out and brushed his cheek. It was stubbly beneath her fingers. God knows when last he’d shaved. Probably before he’d obtained that bruise.

“Gareth.”

“I haven’t arrived at second person yet,” he said quietly. “You. You. Always you. I love you, Jenny. When you left me, all the warmth went out of my world. When I said those horrible things, I didn’t realize then how much I needed you—how superior you were to me.”

Jenny’s heart gave a little flip.

“This entire country suffocated me, cold and dreary and monochromatic. Then I met you. And you spread color everywhere I looked—in every aspect of my life. You put texture in a flat world. Before I knew you, I despaired of ever seeing Brazil again. I can’t think of a single reason why you should stay with me, but you’re a great deal cleverer than I, and I’m hoping you can imagine something.”

Gareth set his gloved hands on her shoulders. His golden-warm eyes were covered with a sheen that looked suspiciously like moisture. Inches from his face, she could see reddish veins throughout his cornea. The haphazard stubble on his cheeks stood out, darker brown than his hair.

“Gareth,” Jenny asked, “when was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“And you call yourself a rational man.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, his fingers on her shoulders tightened their grasp just the smallest fraction.

“I can give you one thing,” he said huskily. “One thing besides myself, that is. Nobody will ever look down on you again. Not with my title, nor with my protection. My grandfather taught me to fend off those sorts of attacks. Let me put them in your service now. Let me stand beside you.”

It was in that moment that Jenny realized he would not abandon her. Not ever.

“Gareth,” Jenny said imperiously, “give me your hand.”

He froze, his head half-turned away. “What?”

She didn’t bother to repeat the question. Instead, she took his wrist and stripped off the riding glove. His breath hissed in when her thumb traced the lines of his palm.

“You’re a stubborn man,” she said. “A rational man. You’re excessively proud, damnably responsible and all too awkward.”

He hunched miserably under her analysis. “I can change.”

Jenny peered into his palm. “No.” She dismissed this with a sad shake of her head. “You won’t. Change is not what I’m seeing in the future.”