Just a Little Heartache (The Brotherhood #5) - Merry Farmer Page 0,62

what he was going to do. He stripped off his clothes, ran a washcloth over himself to clean away the grime of travel, dressed in crisp, cotton pajamas, and climbed straight into the huge, soft bed Blake had given him. And immediately cursed at himself for going hard at the sound of Blake’s footsteps in the hall. Those footsteps paused just outside of the door before the door across the hall opened and shut. Niall flopped to his back, hissing for the twist of disappointment that hit him.

He flat refused to relieve himself of the throbbing tension being near Blake brought with it, but that meant he spent most of the night tossing and turning and aching instead of resting. No matter how many times he told himself he should be focusing his mental efforts on puzzling out where Annamarie had gone, whether Blake’s children were safe, and how he could sell his brother’s estate, Niall’s mind was filled with memories of Blake’s plaintive pants as he neared orgasm and the rich sound of his laughter as they’d dashed across campus on their way to his flat.

Not even a brisk morning stroll across the grounds of Blake’s estate could diffuse the fiery tension that gripped Niall the next day. It was made worse by the sound of the piano echoing through the house when he returned. He deliberately avoided the conservatory, heading straight up to his room to change out of his walking clothes and into something more formal, then delayed going downstairs for another hour. But the inevitable was exactly that, so at last he gave up and went in search of Blake.

“I trust you slept well,” Blake greeted him when Niall located him in a room that looked every bit like the office of a duke should look. There was a map of the estate on one wall and shelves of books about agriculture, animal husbandry, and law. Blake stood over his desk rather than sitting as he rifled through papers and letters. He glanced at Niall for only a moment before focusing on his work again.

“Perfectly well,” Niall lied.

Blake glanced up at him again. He knew Niall was lying, but he didn’t say anything about it. Oddly enough, Blake looked refreshed, as though he had slept well for the first time in a long time. He’d shaved as well, which did nothing to calm the raging need to take Blake’s face in his hands and kiss it until they were both breathless.

“I’ve been reading through Annamarie’s correspondence from this summer,” Blake rushed to say as Niall slowly approached the desk. “Normally, I would never presume to intrude on something of hers that is so personal, but it dawned on me this morning that there might be a clue as to her and the children’s whereabouts in her letters.”

“Have you discovered anything?” Niall asked, impressed with the idea to read her correspondence.

“Not yet,” Blake said, sounding paradoxically hopeful, sifting through the letters. “Although there are several letters from her mother and sister that seem to say she has been wanting to travel back to New York for some time. She went four years ago.” He glanced up at Niall. “The children and I stayed home.”

Niall nodded, unsurprised. From what Blake had told him the day before, and from what little he remembered of the woman from ten years ago, Annamarie was exactly the sort to go on holiday without her husband and children. “Anything about who her lover might be? Any letters from him?”

Blake shook his head. “There are a few old ones from past lovers. I wondered if she might have turned to any of them for help or advice. But it appears as though all of those doors have closed.”

Niall reached the opposite side of the desk from Blake, studying him more than the array of letters and other documents. Something was different about Blake. He was calmer. Only by a fraction, but it was a start. Niall wondered if sleep had brought about the change or food. He wondered, but he knew it was his presence that had changed things.

“Do you think she would take the children to New York?” he asked, addressing the main problem head on.

Blake straightened and shoved a hand anxiously through his hair before meeting Niall’s eyes. The deep worry there was different from the frantic way Blake had been the evening before, but it was somehow worse. “Very possibly,” he said in a quiet voice. “And if she does, if