Lady Alexandra's Lover (Sex and the Season #3) - Helen Hardt Page 0,49

that had been a lie. He had wanted to make love to her, plain and simple. She touched a part of him that no woman had. Several months ago, when he was courting Lady Rose Jameson, Rose had attempted to seduce him. He had been tempted, yes. He was human, after all, and Rose was a beautiful woman. But he had resisted.

He hadn’t been able to resist Alexandra.

He must find her a husband and quickly. If he did not, he had no idea what might happen between them.

And there was still the chance that he might have gotten her with child. If that were the case, they would have to marry.

Part of him hoped he had gotten her with child. Part of him wanted to marry Alexandra.

And that part scared the hell out of him.

“Are you coming, Xavier?” St. Clair slapped him on the back.

Evan looked down at the shorter man. “In a moment, perhaps. I’d like to get a little fresh air first.”

“Of course, of course. Just join us when you’re ready.” St. Clair retired to the cigar room.

Evan made haste toward the doors leading to the back terrace. Whatever was starting between Alexandra and Brooks, he was going to stop it. If Brooks was going to marry his stepsister, he would do so as a gentleman. Evan would not allow any liberties.

He walked out onto the terrace, inhaling the London night air. He wrinkled his nose. How he’d much rather be back in Wiltshire on the estate where the air was fresh and clean. He looked around. Where were Alexandra and Brooks? Had they descended onto the lawn? His heart thrummed wildly. Had he dragged her into a dark corner? Was he compromising her at this very moment?

His skin tightened around him and his muscles tensed. This would not happen. He marched across the terrace and down the stairs. “Alexandra!” he called.

Nothing.

He walked around the yard, his pulse racing, looking for any clue. Where in God’s name was she? What had he done with her? His gut tightened. If that rake had done anything to her, by God, Evan would see him in hell.

When he had searched every crevice of the lawn, he doubled around to the front of the house, searching there. He finally gave up and went back inside. The butler showed him to the smoking room.

“St. Clair, where in hell is that son of yours?”

“Xavier, I’m glad you decided to join us. John is right here.”

Evan looked farther into the room, and there sat John Brooks, puffing on a cigar.

“I thought you were with Lady Alexandra.” Evan calmed his rapid breathing.

“Only for a moment,” Brooks said. “She decided to join the ladies. But I must tell you, Xavier, she is an absolute delight. Thank you for introducing me to her.”

Evan breathed a huge sigh of relief. “You’re quite welcome. Now, it would be my pleasure to take you up on that glass of port.”

* * *

Ally smiled to herself. John Brooks was a gentleman—too much of a gentleman for her taste really. Their short walk had been pleasant, but then she had decided to join the ladies. After a grueling hour of trying to make small talk with Marvella and the countess—nice women but not gifted in the art of conversation—she was exhausted. Now, back at the Brighton townhome, Ally lay on her bed relaxing for a few blissful moments before getting ready for the ball.

Brooks was handsome, but his presence did not stir her. In fact, Mr. Landon’s presence had failed to stir her the last time they had met. It seemed she was only stirred by one man these days—Evan.

Still, her sights were set on Mr. Landon. His fortune was greater than most peers in England, and he had businesses all over the world. With him, she could travel, see everything the world had to offer, experience life to its fullest. The title meant nothing to her. Her mother had possessed a title—the Countess of Longarry—and what had that title gotten her? A life of abuse and near poverty. No, Ally cared not about title.

For a moment, she considered the fate of her cousin Rose. Rose had fallen in love with a commoner, Cameron Price, and had been ready to live with him as his peasant wife. However, fate had intervened when Cameron found out that he was the grandson of the Marquess of Denbigh. Now the Earl of Thornton and heir to the Denbigh Marquessate, Cameron, while by far not the richest