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She’d seen the joy on Quinn’s face when Allison had told him she was with child just a few weeks ago.
Heather’s twenty-seventh birthday had been looming, and her chances of ever being a wife and mother were dwindling, so when Jacob had entered her life, she’d been all too eager to place a suit of armor on a villain who could never be the white knight she’d been looking for.
She’d wanted to know the pleasure her friends had spoken of before it was too late, but all she’d gotten was an embarrassing, painful tumble that hadn’t given her any of the things she’d been searching for. She’d quickly realized that Jacob would never love her, never father her own children. She’d chosen poorly.
Blackstone snorted and rolled onto his side, turning away from her, and she buried her face in her hands. She had to stop looking at him as though he could somehow be that knight. He was a member of the aristocracy and the supervisor of her friends’ husbands. Both Jocelyn and Allison had married down. A man like Drake Blackstone would never do the same. He’d made it obvious that he found her beneath him in every way.
Still, she couldn’t help but think about how sweet he’d been as she’d told him her sad tale, how he hadn’t seemed to judge her or her mother in the slightest. If anything, he’d been angry on their behalf.
Pushing to her feet, she crossed the room to a side table where she’d left a book she’d found earlier. It was a terribly dry treatise on Communism, but at least it might help keep her mind off Jacob and what he expected her to do to save herself.
Chapter Five
Drake woke with a start, pushing up to his elbows and looking around wildly, confused and disorientated. It wasn’t until he caught sight of Miss Fields, her lovely face bent over a book, that he remembered where he was and sank back with a sigh.
She glanced up, meeting his gaze and putting the book aside. “It hasn’t been very long. Only an hour or two. You can go back to sleep.”
He shook his head, blinking up at the low ceiling, trying to get the grit out of his eyes and the fog out of his brain. “No. I’m all right. I just needed to shut my eyes for a bit.”
“Nothing has happened,” she said quietly. “I would have woken you.”
“I know,” he said briskly. “I’d just feel better if I was awake. We might only get one shot at this.” It felt strange to include her, to use the wordwe.He’d been an island of one for as long as he could remember. But it felt good in a way as well. Having her here gave him even more to fight for. No one was going to get to her without going through him first.
For a while longer, he just laid on his back, trying to find the energy to get up. He was very aware of her intense regard but couldn’t fault it since he’d stared at her while she was sleeping too. He wondered if she was as fascinated by him as he was by her. Because he wanted nothing more than to pretend that this wasn’t happening, that they’d met under better circumstances, that he could just talk to her some more, kiss those lush lips...
To his immense surprise, blood surged to his groin, making him hurriedly sit up so she wouldn’t see the effect she had on him. What the hell was wrong with him? How could he feel even a hint of arousal when his life was at stake?
Irritated by his weakness, he stood and strode behind the screen in the corner, taking a few moments to get himself under control and relieve himself. When he came back out, she was looking at her book again, her face flaming. He doubted she had any idea what she was reading though, and that gave him some comfort. He imagined she was embarrassed to have heard him urinate, and he wondered suddenly if she’d used the chamber pot while he was sleeping. He hoped so, since he didn’t want her to be miserable and she seemed so embarrassed by it.
He strode over to the table and poured himself a cup of water, drinking deeply before taking the chair across from hers. “I don’t know what to do now,” he admitted.
Frowning, she put her book aside once again, and he grimaced when he saw what it was about.Communist drivel.
“You seem like the sort of man who always has a plan,” she said, her blue eyes piercing into his. “Should I be alarmed?”
He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I wish I knew who had taken us. If I did, if I knew what they wanted, maybe I’d have more of an idea...”
