Chapter 20
Rian paced in front of the fireplace in Isabel’s parlor. It was late afternoon, but Lady Howard had not yet risen. Rian had made the suggestion, somewhat tersely, that perhaps she could be woken and told he was waiting. Was Isabel still abed? That he didn’t doubt, but sleeping? He made a rude noise to the empty room. He was being punished, and was secure enough to admit he deserved it. He had promised Liam he would call on Isabel the next day, but his brother had been gone a week and he was only now making good on his promise. Still, Liam could not chastise him for his unintentional oversight. Prearranged meetings with bankers and lawyers and men of business had commanded his time as he dealt with the management of his wealth. As a woman of independent means, he’d hoped Isabel would understand.
It would seem not.
At least his other female concern was not finding fault with him. Catherine was making remarkable progress, so much so that Dr. MacGregor had decided further visits on his part were no longer necessary. He had sounded positively mournful when he informed Rian of his decision, but the dour faced Scot was quick to point out that his attitude was not a reflection on his patient, but more the fact that he would miss the bountiful table he was always invited to share. Rian laughed. He had taken a liking to the physician and made a mental note to invite him to dine at least once a week whenever he was in town.
Now he decided he would not help his cause with bad humor. Especially not when he had no one to blame but himself. He should have called on Isabel as soon as she returned from the country with Charlotte Maitling. He had sent flowers with his apologies, and received a carefully worded note in return. Isabel told him to call when his guest no longer occupied his time. The reference could have meant his brother, but Rian suspected this was Isabel’s way of telling him she knew about Catherine. He wasn’t surprised. Obviously someone had talked. Secrets and servants were never a good mix.
Sitting in one of the large, walnut wing chairs by the fireplace, he waited for Isabel to grace him with her presence. She would appear when she was good and ready, and not a moment before. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was nothing he could do to hurry the process so he looked about him, admiring the subtle blending of blues and browns that were the dominant colors of the room. It had a strong, masculine feel, and he wondered if this was why he felt so comfortable. Isabel was very clever to have furnished it specifically with gender in mind, but then she was very intuitive about the opposite sex.
“Rian darling, I am so sorry to have kept you waiting.”
At the sound of her voice he got to his feet, and watched as she came toward him. Looking sleep mussed, she was busy tying the sash on her robe, and he thought perhaps he might have been wrong and she really had been sleeping. Then he wondered who was keeping her from her bed until the dawn hours. A thought he quickly pushed away. He had no right to reproach Isabel if she sought another’s company. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him. The scant pressure of her lips was notice she had not yet forgiven him for his neglectful behavior. “I apologize for not being dressed,” she said, “but I suspect I might still be wearing too much to suit you.”
She punctuated the confidence she had in her own sexual allure with a throaty laugh, something that, at any other time, would have immediately set his libido racing. But not today. Instead he thought her laugh sounded brittle, and her attitude an irritant that scraped on his nerves. Although he could acknowledge the physical pull that drew him to her—it was just as strong as ever—now he also saw what was missing. Whatever flame burned between them, it no longer glowed quite as brightly. At least not for him.
“Isabel, there’s something we need to talk about.”
“My goodness, you’re being so serious.”
Rian watched her face intently, searching for any sign that she already knew what he wanted to say. Though her expression revealed nothing, something in her tone made him think perhaps she had not been quite as asleep as he had been told. He became thoughtful, watching as she walked away and seated herself on the large sofa. She patted the cushion beside her. An invitation he declined by remaining on his feet with his back toward the fire. Isabel shrugged and tilted her head before speaking.
“Hmmm, let me see if I can guess what might be on your mind.” Her expression turned petulant, and sarcasm coated her words as she continued. “The man I believed to be an ardent admirer of mine has chosen to ignore me since my return from the country. Ignore me to the point that I am left to wonder what might have transpired in the seven days we were apart, as well as the ensuing days that have passed since then.” She paused and gave him a smile that was more predatory than pretty. “Now in all fairness, I did receive a large bouquet with an apology attached, but no other communication to explain such mystifying behavior. No letter or card, not even a scribbled note in his hand, so I ask you…what on earth could you possibly have to say to me?”
The realization that he had woefully underestimated the depth of Isabel’s anger dawned on him. Whether real or imagined, whether deliberate or accidental, it made no difference. More than Isabel’s feelings had been hurt by Rian’s apparent disregard. Her pride had been crushed and she felt humiliated. Accepting every ounce of disdain that laced her words, he made no excuse for his neglectful behavior.
He guessed that Isabel had noted the cooling of his affection toward her the moment she walked into the room. He ran his fingers through his thick hair in frustration.
A small wrinkle marred her normally smooth brow. “Good God, Rian, if it’s this bad, then we’re both going to need a drink.”
She rose from her seat and went to the table where some wine and glasses had been placed. After pouring them both a drink, she came toward him, her robe opening with each step, displaying her shapely legs. Rian took a generous swallow as Isabel resumed her seat. Crossing her legs exposed her from mid thigh all the way down to small, delicate feet encased in high heeled red satin slippers.
“I think you were about to apologize,” she prompted.
A second swallow emptied the glass, and Rian came straight to the point. “I do offer my sincere apologies, Isabel, and I want you to know how much I have enjoyed our time together, but the time has come to end our relationship. It is for the best.”
For the next few moments the only sound heard in the room was the brave ticktock of the ornate porcelain clock on the mantel. Rian watched Isabel closely, but her only reaction was to flare her nostrils slightly before asking, “Best for whom? No, don’t bother saying anything for I already know what your answer will be.” She paused and smiled. “Why don’t you want to see me anymore?”
“I intend to return to Oakhaven after the wedding, and I am uncertain regarding my future plans.”
“I see.” She dipped her forefinger over the rim of her glass into the wine and then put it between her lips, slowly sucking on it while at the same time giving the appearance of being lost in thought. “Forgive me, Rian,” she said with a querying look, “but I’m trying to recall when I asked to be included in your future plans. The moment escapes me. Do you remember it?”
She was clever, he’d give her that. “In truth, you never have,” he admitted.
“Did I ever embarrass you either publicly or in private?”
“What? No, of course not!”
“Am I to assume I am now a bore?” Rian shook his head. Isabel could never be considered a bore. “Then it must be my appearance. Is it my hook nose, pointy chin and hairy warts that you now take objection to?”
“Isabel…” he growled, starting to lose patience with this game she was playing.
She softened her tone. “But you no longer care for me?”
“Of course I still care for you. I just think it would be better for us to part now.”
Tilting her head, Isabel stared at him as though she was carefully weighing his words, and then she laughed. “I’m sorry, Rian, but you’re making absolutely no sense. Perhaps if you were to explain it once more?”
He watched as she dipped the tip of her finger into her wine glass once more and this time there was no mistaking her intent when she put her finger in her mouth. He had been prepared to deal with an angry, spitting Isabel and found he was thrown off stride by the calm, reasonable woman sitting before him.
And God, she looks gorgeous.
The silky fabric of her robe molded itself perfectly to the contours of her body, a body he knew only too well, and she teased him by remaining perfectly still, allowing him to feast his eyes. The physical attraction flared stronger than it had ever before, almost as if his body was aware this was the last chance he would have to bed her. He could feel the lust rising as he caught the scent of her perfume. It was a tantalizing fragrance. Just like the woman who wore it.
With an effort he turned away and stood before the large picture window. Paying no attention to the view beyond the glass, he tried to decide how to proceed.
Isabel toyed with her glass as she waited for him to speak.
“The country has its own unique charms, but I fear such provincial delights would quickly bore a woman of your intellect,” Rian said, turning to face her. Though lame, the excuse did hold the ring of truth.
She eyed him quizzically. “Shouldn’t I be allowed to decide that for myself? Even I might find the peace and quiet of country living quite intoxicating…given the right inducement.”
“It really wouldn’t be fair.”
The icy bite of her words belied the dazzling smile she gave him. “Your concern is most thoughtful.” Dropping her eyes, Isabel became engrossed with the pattern on the toe of her slipper. It seemed like an eternity passed before she finally looked up.“How is the health of your guest?”
Rian was surprised she had waited this long before raising the subject. Still, unsure of how much Isabel knew, he feigned ignorance. “Liam was in excellent health the last time I saw him.”
Isabel narrowed her eyes and a vertical line appeared between her brows. “Now you’re being insulting,” she snapped. “Let me offer you a piece of advice, Rian. If you want to know what is happening above stairs then always seek your information below them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“So, no more games. Tell me about the girl.”
“There’s really nothing to tell.” He balked.
“Then it won’t take you long, will it?”
Rian felt deflated, only he wasn’t sure why. Given their history, Isabel wasn’t being unreasonable in wanting to know about Catherine, but he was reluctant to share any information with her. On the face of it his disinclination was quite juvenile, but he couldn’t help himself, and so he gave only give the briefest account. It was disconcerting not knowing what facts Isabel possessed.
“It was very Christian of you to come to her rescue,” she said after hearing his version of events.
He shrugged. “It was the right thing to do.”
“So you are quite determined to return to the country after your brother’s wedding?”
He frowned. Was she done interrogating him about Catherine? He didn’t think so for one minute, but decided to go along with whatever game she was playing until her true intentions were revealed. “Yes, for a while anyway,” he told her.
She flexed her foot back and forth, making the jeweled slipper dance. “And you don’t think I would enjoy being at Oakhaven?”
Wanting to prove to himself the hold she had over him had truly diminished, Rian sat down next to her. “For a brief visit yes,” he admitted, “but I think in a matter of days you would wish to return here.” He made a point of looking about the room with its expensive, tasteful furnishings. “This is where you belong, Isabel, and believe me when I say it is not my intention to hurt you.” He took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.
She raised a brow and gave him an amused look. “So I am to believe the only reason for this change in affection is your wish to sequester yourself away in the country? Is that it?” Rian refused to rise to the bait. “And you are certain there is no other rationale to account for it?”
Though not fooled by the expression of innocence she wore, Rian also wasn’t completely certain he understood just what she was asking him. The last thing he wanted to do was say the wrong thing and upset her further, so he decided to play it safe. “I have no other reason,” he told her.
“Liar.”
This time her smile was warm and genuine, and, believing she was teasing him, and because he liked her, he smiled back. “Isabel, we have shared a wonderful time together, a time that I will always treasure and you know I will keep you fondly in my affections, but—”
She pressed her fingers to his mouth, silencing him as her voice became a husky whisper that inflamed the heat already pooled in his groin. “Rian, we are both adults and you made me no promises. No matter what others might say.”
He started.
Isabel was acknowledging, and dismissing, the marriage rumor. She leaned toward him, and the lust that flared was his body’s undoing. Isabel’s eyes turned a brilliant green. “May I count on you to still escort me to your brother’s wedding?”
How was it women could jump from one subject to another, and then back again with such ease? It was no wonder that most men found themselves saying the wrong thing.
“Of course,” he told her.
“Good, then no more talk of your leaving the city. At least not today.” She smiled prettily at him. “Now, I know that you will be standing up with your brother, and have duties as his best man that require your attention. Is that not so?” She leaned forward, just far enough to offer an enticing glimpse of her breasts as her robe gaped open.
Rian nodded in response to her question, his eyes automatically straying to the creamy alabaster skin as his groin became an inferno. This close, her fragrance was subtle yet completely overpowering, inflaming his desire. She shifted slightly and her hand brushed against his thigh. It felt like liquid lightning, and Rian bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from groaning out loud.
“Well in that case,” she continued, “you will be far too busy to pay me any attention, so why don’t we just agree to divert ourselves with other amusements until the day of the wedding?”
“You don’t want to see me until Liam’s wedding?” The question slipped out before he had a chance to think how it sounded. “Of course I want to see you, darling.” She gave a throaty purr that sent his libido racing, even though she seemed oblivious to the erection straining against the front of his trousers, blissfully unaware of the effect she was having on him. “I am simply saying I understand that you are going to be busy, and the last thing I want is to become a burden.” The round firmness of her breast pushed against his arm, and he nodded. Isabel was being perfectly logical. He needed to get up and move. Readjust his clothing at the very least. “But you don’t have to attend to any of those duties at this immediate moment…do you?” she whispered.
“What? No, not yet.”
He watched as she ran the tip of her tongue across her lips and turned predatory. “Then we have time.”
“Time for what?”
Leaning forward, Isabel kissed him on the mouth, reminding Rian of how wonderful she tasted. Her tongue teased him, while her teeth gently scraped his lower lip. She grasped his hand and slipped it inside the opening of her robe, filling his palm with the lush fullness of her breast. He automatically curled his fingers, feeling the stiff peak of her nipple rub against his skin. More than ready for him, Isabel moaned softly in his mouth as her tongue stroked his own. She dropped a hand and pressed it against his groin, promising to deliver the relief he needed.
Rian’s lust roared through him, and he groaned. Isabel pulled her mouth from his and stood up. A slight movement and the robe slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor, leaving her gloriously naked save for the high-heeled slippers on her feet. Reaching for his hand, Isabel placed it back on her breast, a seductive smile lifting her lips as she gave a husky sigh. It was a sound that was filled with need and wanting, and she was rewarded when Rian, no longer able to deny his own hunger, pulled her down onto the couch and lost himself in the silky perfume of her skin.