“Damon!” she exclaimed, her voice a high, breathless rasp. “What the devil are you doing here?”
“I believe we left our conversation unfinished,” he said coolly, crossing the room toward her bed.
You should appear kissable, even if you have no intention of being so forward. Call his attention to your mouth by lightly licking your lips or touching them with your fan. Trust me, he will notice. -An Anonymous Lady, Advice…
Throwing off the covers, Eleanor sprang out of bed so quickly, she felt lightheaded. Or perhaps her weakness was simply the result of having her tall, handsome, former betrothed stalking her when she was so scantily clad.
“You know very well you shouldn't be in my bedchamber!” she declared as she backed away toward the door.
A hard smile touched Damon's mouth. “At the theater you refused my offer to continue our discussion elsewhere.”
“Because there is nothing to discuss!” When Damon kept advancing, Eleanor held up her hands as if to ward him off. “Damon-stop right there!”
Thankfully, he obeyed her command, coming to halt a half dozen steps from her. But there he stood, looking as immovable as granite, his dark eyes piercing in the glow of the bedside lamp.
“You need to leave this minute,” she insisted.
“Not until we set a few matters straight.”
He was still angry at her, obviously, but then, so was she. “I mean it, Damon! Get out, or I will call for Peters to throw you out.”
“No, you won't. You don't want your servants to find me here.”
Eleanor clenched her teeth in frustration, knowing full well she couldn't make good on her threat. Summoning the servants to her rescue might very well result in scandal. At the very least her Aunt Beatrix would be appalled and dismayed to learn that she had gotten herself in such a fix.
Eleanor wanted badly to send Damon to the devil, but it was clear he intended to have it out with her, despite the fact that he was flouting propriety with a vengeance.
Realizing she had no choice but to listen to him, she gave a huff of resignation and crossed her arms under her bosom-which had the unwanted effect of attracting Damon's gaze to her breasts.
When his dark eyes raked her, taking in her delicate nightdress of white lawn, she quickly dropped her arms to her sides and retreated another step. “Very well, what do you want to discuss?”
“The situation with Lazzara. I want you to listen to me, Eleanor.”
“Will you please keep your voice down then? Someone might hear you.”
Damon obliged, but his tone still held a hard note when he continued. “I can't fathom why you think me guilty of some sinister purpose toward your prince, but you not only accused me of trying to injure him, but of lying.”
Eleanor lifted her chin. “You cannot claim that you have never lied to me before. After we became engaged, you said you had given up your mistress, but you most certainly had not.”
He returned an enigmatic look as he slowly moved around the foot of the bed. “I won't argue with you on that score, but you are far off the mark if you think I had anything to do with Lazzara's mishaps. That makes as much sense as you causing his accidents yourself.”
Eleanor gave him a measuring stare. “Whyever would I cause his accidents?”
“Perhaps to maneuver him into a position where your reputation would be compromised… to compel him to wed you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That is a perfectly revolting accusation.”
“So is your accusing me of deliberately attempting to harm him. I don't take kindly to having my honor questioned.”
“I would imagine not,” Eleanor retorted. “But you must admit it looks highly suspicious when you were present for all three incidents. And you were directly behind us this evening.”
Pinning her with his gaze, Damon took a step closer. “There is one major factor you are forgetting, sweetheart. I would never put your safety at risk. Since you were clinging to his arm, you could easily have fallen tonight and been injured yourself. Even had I wanted to shove him down a flight of stairs, I would have waited until you were clear of him.”
She had to admit that Damon had acted swiftly to save her from the prince's fate. Eleanor nodded slowly. “I remember that you caught my arm to prevent me from being dragged down by him.”
“I did indeed.”
“So you think he merely tripped?”
“Perhaps, but to my mind he has suffered too many recent mishaps for it to be mere coincidence. It's possible that someone actually may want to harm him.”
“Who, then?”
“I haven't the foggiest idea.” Looking thoughtful, Damon moved over to her bed and settled one hip on the mattress. Before Eleanor could protest, he went on as if musing aloud. “I did note that the pickpocket looked as if he could have been a countryman of Laz-zara's. They shared the same olive complexion. At the theater this evening, however, there was no one of that appearance near him other than Signor Vecchi.”
“But Signor Vecchi would not push his own relative down the stairs,” Eleanor said, frowning in puzzlement.
“I shouldn't think so.”
Her frown deepened. “If some unknown assailant is trying to do the prince harm, I would very much like to discover the culprit so he can be stopped. Laz-zara could be seriously hurt.”
“I would like to know as well,” Damon declared. “As long as he is courting you, you could be in danger. ”
Her eyes widened a little. “You are worried for my safety?”
“Is that so incomprehensible, Elle?”
His tone had softened a measure, and Eleanor felt her own defenses slacken. “No, I suppose not.”
“I dislike you associating so closely with Lazzara,” Damon said. “If these attacks keep up, you could be hurt. And I won't stand idly by and let that happen, Eleanor.”
He held her gaze, making her suddenly aware of her near state of undress and the tangled covers on the bed.
“Thank you for your concern, my lord,” Eleanor hastened to say, “but you should go. You shouldn't be here,” she repeated.
Showing no signs of preparing to leave, Damon smiled crookedly. “You must at least give me credit for resourcefulness. You wouldn't allow me a moment of privacy with you, so I was forced to take drastic measures. It wasn't easy, climbing that damned oak tree outside your window.”
Eleanor was surprised to hear herself laugh softly. It was deplorable how Damon could make her laugh when she should be irate at him for risking her reputation.
“See,” he said casually, “you admire a man who can keep you on your toes.”
She tried to hide a smile. “If you are fishing for compliments, you will grow old and gray before I add to your conceit.”
Damon shook his head as he drawled in a wry tone, “I may not have the opportunity to grow any older after tonight. My valet will have my head if I have ruined my new coat. Cornby sets great store in turning me out as a gentleman of fashion.”
He looked little the worse for wear, she thought, other than his sable hair was more tousled than usual.