A Timeless Romance Anthology: European Collection (27 page)

Gina stared at him, knowing that her father was waiting impatiently, but she couldn’t help taking another moment with Edmund. “Perhaps.” She cast a glance over her shoulder.

One side of Edmund’s mouth lifted in a smile, and then he took her hand and pressed his lips to her fingers. “I hope so.”

The heat of his lips traveled along her arm, raising the hairs on her skin. She knew she should pull away, but she lingered. If her father happened to turn and watch, Gina wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“I may be able to find a ladder,” he said. “And perhaps I can carry your mysterious book for you.”

Gina laughed, completely breathless, her hand still in his. How could this near stranger have such an effect on her? If she leaned in a little, would he kiss her?

Gina pulled her hand back abruptly. Had she lost her senses? Kissing in public would amount to being forever disgraced.

“I’d better help my mother, Edmund,” she said then quickly turned so he wouldn’t see the full blush on her cheeks.

Chapter Eight

Edmund…
She’d said his name. Edmund had to force himself not to stare at her as she walked across the room to join her parents.

It took only seconds after Gina linked arms with her mother for her to glance back in his direction. He was glad he’d waited for it. Her skin still held a bit of her earlier blush. Edmund’s mind spun. He’d never been tempted to throw away convention, but now he wanted to stride across the room, and capture her in his arms.

This is insane. Truly insane.

He didn’t know if he could wait until tomorrow— until dawn, when, he hoped, she’d slip into the garden again. Perhaps he should kiss her tonight and get it over with. Surely it would satiate whatever boiled over inside of him now. He’d heard of ridiculous crushes but had never thought he’d be caught in one.

Edmund exhaled as Gina moved away with her mother toward the double doors of the ballroom. He had to focus and calm his racing heart. He needed a drink.

Crossing the room, Edmund kept one eye on Mr. Graydon. The man was clearly keeping track of Edmund too. One drink, maybe two, and then Edmund would be ready to face the tyrant. Old money was still favored over new money, but the difference between Edmund and Mr. Graydon was that Edmund had worked for every dollar. Mr. Graydon had inherited his.

Of course now, Edmund had come into a healthy inheritance, but he wouldn’t let Mr. Graydon know that. For Edmund’s strategy to work, he needed Mr. Graydon to think he had the upper hand for as long as possible.

Edmund stopped at the refreshment table and accepted a glass of wine. He gulped it down then reached for another. They needed to serve something stronger at these blasted events.

With a smile, Edmund watched Mr. Graydon slip into the gentleman’s lounge. Perfect. Edmund brought the second glass of wine to his lips and drank the rest. Then he made his way to the lounge, stopping a couple of times when someone greeted him. Having been in Bordeaux for a few days, he’d made a several acquaintances during meal times.

When Edmund stepped into the lounge, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. A fire burned low on the far side of the room, and the low-hung chandelier was much dimmer than the ones in the ballroom. Cigar smoke was already in abundance, causing Edmund to blink against the sudden stinging in his eyes.

He quickly spotted Mr. Graydon, who was settling at the card table, a cigar in one hand, and a generous helping of brandy in the other.

Edmund smiled as he saw the bills laid out on the table. It looked like the stakes would be high tonight. Just what he needed.

Chapter Nine

A rapping on the door thundered into Gina’s room, startling her awake. For a second, she couldn’t remember where she was. The room was pitch black, so she couldn’t have been asleep long. The knock came again, this time accompanied by her father’s voice. “Open up, Gina! Right away!”

Gina scrambled out of bed then had to take a moment to steady her swimming head by bracing herself against the bedpost. What time was it? She’d left the drapes halfway open, and moonlight still streamed through. By the black color of the sky beyond, it had to be the middle of the night.

She crossed to the door, unlocked it, and opened it a crack. “Is something wrong?”

“Let me in and light a blasted lamp,” her father barked.

Gina opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Is it Mother? Or Grandmother?”

“No.” He moved to the windows as Gina lit one of the oil lamps. The low light was feeble at best, but the fire had died hours ago.

Her father pulled the drapes closed with a snap. Turning toward her, he narrowed his eyes. “That man is a fraud, through and through. You’re to have nothing to do with him.”

“Who are you talking about?” Gina stalled, although she had fairly good idea.

“Edmund Donaldson, that’s who.” He scrutinized her carefully.

Gina’s face grew warm, and she clasped her hands in front of her. She’d danced with him only once; why the concern? Curiosity burned through her.

“How is he a fraud?” she asked.

Her father crossed to the dark fireplace. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Gina’s thoughts tumbled. Her father’s worry was surely about the shipping business, or the lawsuit, which she didn’t completely understand. “Is it the lawsuit?”

“He set me up,” her father said. “He placed a high stakes wager in a card game.”

Mother hated him gambling. “What happened? Did you… lose?”

His face reddened, and he took a couple of steps forward. “He might have won his wager, but I’m going to crush everything he’s ever built.” He stopped in front of Gina, so close she could smell brandy on his breath and see that his eyes were bloodshot. “If I see you speak to him or so much
look
at him, you’ll be cut off— do you hear me?”

Cut off?
Gina took a step back. What had the wager been? And what had she done to deserve her father’s threats? Her life had become a scene in a novel.

“Father…” she started, wanting to ask him about the wager, but he brushed past and opened the door.

He turned to look at her. “If that infernal man isn’t gone at first light, we’ll be leaving on the morrow.” Before she could formulate anything remotely intelligent to say, he left, slamming the door behind him.

A shudder passed through her body, and tears threatened, but she kept her emotions in check as she locked the door and extinguished the lamp.

Gina stood in the dark room for several moments, too stunned to do much else. Then dread coursed through her as she realized her neighbor on the other side of her wall had surely heard the shouting. A door shut down the hallway. She hoped her mother was sound asleep and would miss her father’s tirade. She stood, listening, but all was quiet.

She let out a groan as dismay then anger took ahold of her heart… She didn’t know what had happened exactly between the two men, but it wasn’t
her
fault. What had her father lost? What would her mother say about it— especially since she was the one to bring the fortune into the marriage?

Gina crossed to the windows in thought. Her mother might rant for a while. Predictably, she’d then finish off the nearest bottle of wine. Gina drew open the drapes, and moonlight flooded the room. With the aid of extra light, she grabbed a wrapper from the chair near her bed and slipped it on. She wouldn’t be sleeping, knowing she might never see Mr. Donaldson again.

Gina stepped out onto the balcony. Only that morning, her life had seemed much simpler. She had not met the man in the room next to hers. Her gaze slid to his darkened windows. Was he in bed, or still in the card room? Perhaps he’d already left the hotel like her father hoped.

Something inside her felt profoundly sad at the thought. Mr. Donaldson was the one being sued, he had been recently widowed, and now… he’d incurred the wrath of a powerful man— her own father.

If the people of New York had to take sides, her father would win. He’d been established in the business longer, and her mother came from a long line of society’s elite.

Gina’s heart raced as she considered what she could do… and what she
wanted
to do. Another glance at the darkened windows of Mr. Donaldson confirmed her decision— nothing short of what a heroine might do, although this might be a bit more risqué, since this was… well,
real life
. She gripped the balcony rail and climbed over the edge. The moonlight gave enough light to get to the ground safely. Now she only had to climb up again.

She arched her neck, looking at Mr. Donaldson’s balcony, her heart responding with more thumping. This was beyond anything she’d done before. Gina thought about her father’s harsh words and threats…

It was now or never. Tomorrow she’d be separated from Mr. Donaldson.

She grabbed for the first protruding stone then lifted her foot to find purchase. By the time she climbed over Mr. Donaldson’s rail, she was out of breath. If this had been in a novel, the hero would be waiting for her, and of course he’d declare his love the moment she knocked. Perhaps passionately kiss her. Then he’d request her hand in marriage from her father, and the two men would become the best of friends.

As it was, this wasn’t a novel, which was made clear when she knocked softly on the window but no one answered. She knocked again, despite her pounding heart. Still, no answer. Something moved below the balcony. Her heart nearly stopped.

“Miss Graydon?” a voice whispered from below.

Gina wanted to disappear. With her pulse racing, she turned and peered over the rail. Edmund Donaldson stood below, looking up at her. “Hello,” she said in a quiet voice. “I seem to have climbed the wrong balcony.”

His mouth quirked into a smile, and it was then Gina noticed he wasn’t wearing his suit coat or a tie, and that his collar was open, his shirt a bit rumpled, his hair disheveled… He looked every bit the romantic hero.

“
Juliet
?” he said.

Gina stared at him for a moment before understanding. He was teasing about her lie about reading Shakespeare. “I don’t think this is how it went,” she whispered.

“No? Romeo didn’t call up to Juliet on her balcony?”

“Oh, that happened in the story, but this isn’t my balcony, and my name isn’t Juliet… It’s not even close.”

Mr. Donaldson laughed softly. “However could you mistake my balcony for yours? Mine has the hedges.”

Gina played along. “Perhaps because they look identical when one doesn’t notice the hedges, and it is quite dark out here.”

“Darker than when you usually visit the garden, eh?”

“Much.”

“And why, may I ask, are you climbing balconies in the middle of the night?” he said. “Has your nocturnal eyesight become good enough to read with only the moon as a guide?”

“No.”

He laughed again, and not only had Gina’s face warmed, but her entire body.

“Mr. Donaldson, if you would please turn around, I’d like to come down now.”

One of his eyebrows lifted, but he turned and walked a few paces away.

Gina climbed over the railing. She descended slowly, highly aware that one slip would be witnessed, and might send her tumbling into his arms. At one point, she nearly lost her grip, earning a scraped palm for her efforts. When she was nearly to the bottom, two hands grasped her around the waist and lifted her the rest of the way down.

She gasped and turned around, coming face to face with Mr. Donaldson. Her hands rested on his arms, and she was suddenly glad he wasn’t wearing a confining suit coat. It was a new thing for her to feel the warmth and strength of a man’s skin through his shirtsleeves— a realization that made her blush furiously.

“What are you doing out here?” she said, her voice not quite steady. She hoped to cover the fact that being in his arms made her feel faint, because of note, he had not yet released her. And the intensity of his gaze told her he wasn’t about to any time soon.

“I was thinking about where I might find a woman on a balcony.”

“You seem to have a lucky streak tonight… You find a woman on a balcony as you desired, and earlier, you won my father in a card game.”

His face sobered, and he released her.

Gina regretted bringing up her father, but she knew it must be so. She might never see Mr. Donaldson again. “What happened?”

“How do you know about the game?” His eyes searched hers, and she didn’t like what she saw in them: mistrust and doubt.

Could she trust
him
? She would take the risk to learn the truth. “My father was upset, said it was a high-stakes game. He came to my room and declared I am never to see you again.”

Mr. Donaldson didn’t answer, his gaze intent.

“What was the wager, Mr. Donaldson?”

“Edmund,” he whispered, leaning down. “Call me Edmund.”

Her heart hammered, he was so close. He wasn’t even touching her any longer, yet her body seemed to yearn for his.

“Edmund, what was the wager?” Her head felt light, her body weak, as if she’d had champagne.

His fingers brushed against her arms, ever so lightly, then one hand moved to her cheek, like touching a porcelain doll. “
You
were the wager.”

Chapter Ten

 Before Gina could question him, his hand slid behind her head, cradling hers as he angled his face. His lips brushed hers, so softly at first that Gina wondered if it could possibly be a kiss. But when his kiss deepened, and his mouth moved against hers as if he was only focused on one thing, there was no doubt.

Fire spread through her from his touch, his hands on her face and neck. His scent enveloped her, and she wondered if this was what a heroine felt like when kissing her hero. Gina sighed against Edmund, and her lips parted, kissing him back.

Then both his hands tangled in her hair, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. As far as first kisses went, nothing much seemed amiss. At least, Gina found concentrating on something other than Edmund Donaldson difficult, and she quite forgot any of the romantic plotlines she’d read.