"Sutton has a reputation, love. When it comes to women, it isn't a good one."
"I believe you have a similar reputation, my lord."
His mouth edged up. "Perhaps that is so, but I've never forced a woman to do anything she didn't want to do."
Lee frowned, not liking the thought. "If that is the sort of man the major is, I appreciate your timely rescue."
"I was merely acting in my brother's stead. He seems to be quite protective of you."
"From what I know of Caleb… Captain Tanner, he is simply a protective sort of man."
"Perhaps. You should know, in that same way, I am equally protective of him. He's my brother, Vermillion. I don't want to see him hurt."
Her eyes widened. "How could I possibly hurt your brother?"
"I'm not entirely sure. Just make certain that you do not."
She might have argued, told him that what happened between her and Caleb was none of his concern, but there was something about Lucas Tanner that commanded people to do his bidding. It was a trait that seemed to run in the family. Or perhaps it was the glint in those hard blue eyes that promised retribution if she didn't heed his words.
Since the notion was preposterous and in all likelihood she was the one who was going to get hurt, she simply kept her silence.
"I thought your brother might join us. Where is he?"
"I'm afraid I haven't seen him. Caleb has an annoying habit of disappearing."
"Yes, so I've noticed."
Luc took her arm and started toward the punch bowl. "As I said, I think I could use something to drink."
Grateful for the distraction, Lee let him lead her away.
While the guests enjoyed the picnic, Caleb managed to slip into several of the rooms, but his brief search turned up nothing. Later, after Gabriella and her party returned to the house, he joined a small gathering in the music room where Lee entertained on the harp. He was surprised by her skill. She plucked the chords so beautifully it made his chest feel tight. He watched until she quit playing, hoping to speak to her, but as soon as she finished, her usual throng of panting men swarmed around her and he walked away in disgust.
Little by little, the afternoon slipped into evening and the night's entertainments began. He hadn't spoken to Lee all day and he was beginning to feel restless as he watched her bantering with her admirers. Earlier, from a distance, he had seen her talking to Colonel Wingate and Sir Peter Peasley, had watched her in conversation with Major Sutton and even his brother Luc.
Now supper was over and the dancing had begun. Mondale stood beside Lee in the drawing room and the next thing he knew the two of them were slipping outside onto the terrace.
Caleb's senses went on alert. Entering the terrace from the opposite end, he watched the two of them together, saw the damnable rake sweep her into his arms. Mondale kissed her, and anger shot through him. He wanted to tear the man apart, wanted to put Lee over his knee and paddle her until she saw Andrew Mondale for the womanizing rake he was.
The only thing that kept him standing in the shadows was knowing that he would be forced to leave Parklands if he did either of those things and he couldn't afford for that to happen.
He watched her break away from Mondale, ending the kiss. They talked a little while longer, then finally returned to the house.
Caleb's anger didn't lessen.
Dammit, he had always been a little hot-tempered, but Lee drove him nearly mad. He felt possessive of her as he never had another woman. He found himself thinking about her at the oddest times, remembering her in the stable smiling up at old Arlie or galloping over the fields, red hair flying behind her like a gleaming ruby flag.
He wanted her. Constantly. Ached with wanting her.
It was madness, he knew. His life was the army. It was what he did and he was good at it. He was, in fact, a hero of sorts, a soldier who had made his father proud.
Still, as the evening progressed and he saw Lee make her way alone out into the garden, he found himself following her into the darkness, remembering that he had seen her in the shadows kissing Mondale, wondering if she planned a secret tryst with him.
He told himself to hang on to his temper and hoped to hell he would succeed.
Lee tipped her head back, resting it against the pale knotted bark of a birch tree, staring up through the leafy branches. Thank God, she'd finally been able to escape. Every night, the evening seemed to grow longer, more tedious. The house was stuffy. The rooms smelled of candle wax and the cloying scent of women's perfume. Encouraging the colonel last night had been a mistake, and Mondale—dear Lord, the man must have at least three sets of hands!
Lee looked up through the branches, into the darkness broken by the glitter of stars, and inhaled a cleansing breath. Out here it was cool and the soft night beckoned. Here in the garden, she was at peace, able to absorb the sound of the crickets in the grass, the distant clink of crystal, and the faint notes of music coming from inside the house.
The week was slipping past. She had continued to dig for information and tonight she thought she might have come up with something at last. She needed to speak to Caleb, but all evening she had only caught an occasional glimpse of him.
She wondered where he was, thought of Juliette Beauvoir, and felt the sharp burn of jealousy. Or perhaps he had disappeared from Parklands as he had before. Her stomach knotted at the thought and because it did, her temper inched up. She relaxed when she spotted a shadowy figure moving along the path in her direction and realized it was Caleb. Her heart kicked up and she cursed him for the ease with which he could affect her.
He stopped when he reached her and the usual scowl appeared on his face. "Surprised to see me?"
She tried not to think of Juliette Beauvoir. Being jealous of the woman was ridiculous. Caleb had rarely looked in her direction, and yet… "As a matter of fact, I am. You were missing all afternoon." She gave him a silky smile. "But perhaps you were otherwise entertained."
Caleb didn't seem to catch the inference. "I've been busy." A note of sarcasm crept into his voice. "But then you've been rather busy yourself."
"Exactly how would you know?"
"Because I saw you. Out on the terrace with Mondale. I saw you kissing him, Lee."
Damn. She thought she had been discreet.
"That's right… there you were on the terrace, behaving like a harlot, and Mondale was lapping it up."
Heat washed into her cheeks. He had a way of goading her, making her want to lash out at him, and she couldn't seem to stop herself from doing it again. "Actually, Caleb—I am a harlot. Your harlot. In case you have forgotten."
His eyes went dark. "I haven't forgotten anything about you. Not for a moment. I remember exactly the size of your breasts, the way your nipples tighten when I cup them in my hands. I remember what it's like to be inside you. It's you who seems to have trouble remembering." His dark eyes snapped with fire. "But perhaps I can remedy that."
He gripped her shoulders, dragged her toward him. She felt the heat of his mouth over hers as he claimed a hard, angry kiss. She should have pulled away, should have railed at him for believing the worst of her. She should have told him the truth about Andrew, that she had only been with him on the terrace because she was trying to help, but her nipples were already hard, her body begging him to continue.
He must have read her thoughts for a groan escaped his throat. The gown was low cut, not much of a barrier. Caleb shoved the shimmering fabric off her shoulders, baring her breasts, and captured the fullness in his hands. He palmed them, molded them, bent his dark head and took the weight of one into his mouth. Her nipple tightened, distended, sent a shaft of pleasure shooting through her. She swayed toward him, clutched his powerful shoulders to stay on her feet.