Free Never Trust a Scoundrel by Gayle Callen Page A

disgrace.”
    â€œBut…do not other men have mistresses?”
    â€œShe was living with me in my room.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œIt’s a shame I didn’t realize in time that we didn’t suit. But it really didn’t matter in the end. I was bored at Cambridge and had learned all I needed to. The rest of my education was through experience. ” He emphasized the last word, letting her think what she would.
    Her gaze darted away but only briefly. Her curiosity was one of the things he enjoyed about her. It would prove so helpful to him.
    â€œThe classics would not aid me in this new industrial world, so I took my small allowance and began to invest.”
    â€œSuccessfully, I hear,” she said dryly.
    â€œI like your interest in me. It proves we suit. I always succeed at whatever I try. I’m good with numbers.”
    â€œSuccessful with mistresses, too?”
    â€œNot always. But enough to keep all of us satisfied.”
    â€œAnd how long was the longest relationship?”
    He put a knee on the bed, and although she stiffened on the far side, she did not scurry away. He climbed up and on all fours began to crawl toward her. He could see the green of her eyes darken like the depths of the forest, and he imagined the moistness of a summer heat. To his surprise, he began to perspire. He had a wild urge to fling off all his clothing and see what she would do.
    Grace was frozen, caught in a subtle trap she had no answer to. Daniel was above her, crawling toward her like a cat, all smooth muscle beneath his clothing. She imagined him naked, doing the same thing, and she almost couldn’t remember how to breathe.
    She licked her lips and watched his gaze settle on her mouth, as if he would begin to nibble her there first.
    â€œAre you trying to distract me from my question?” she asked in a quivering voice.
    He stopped with his hands on the edge of the bed, his fingers splayed, his head swaying outward like a dark, shaggy lion. “I forgot it.”
    â€œWhat was the longest a mistress lasted?”
    â€œThree years.”
    â€œThat is a long time,” she said, feeling intrigued in spite of the desire uncurling inside her. “And you broke it off at last?”
    â€œShe did.”
    Hearing such intimate words was making her even more vulnerable to him. The more she heard, the more he became a person to her rather than just an opponent.
    When he reached for her, she took a step back, and he made no move to leave the bed. His fingers almost reached her breast, and she watched them with a gasp, until finally he pulled back.
    â€œShe left you for a man who offered her more?” she asked.
    â€œShe had no one else at the time,” he said.
    With a stab of disappointment, she watched him stretch out on his back, his arms out over his head. She stared spellbound at the rise of his chest and the width of his shoulders. With a pleasurable sigh, he folded his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. She realized he wasn’t wearing shoes, that his big feet in black stockings looked strangely intimate.
    â€œThen why did your mistress leave you?” she asked.
    â€œShe said I did not talk to her enough.”
    â€œNot talk enough? You have barely closed your mouth since I met you!”
    He laughed, long and low, a contagious sound that felt too good rumbling near her rib cage.
    â€œBelieve me, we talked in bed.”
    Her ears practically burned at the way he spoke of intimacies so casually.
    â€œBut she wanted more of my time and attention, and I could not give her…what I didn’t have to give.”
    Grace risked stepping closer to the bed, so that she could see his face in the shadows. “She made the mistake of falling in love with you.”
    He shrugged. “She didn’t say so, but I suspected that might be the case.”
    â€œSo she was protecting herself by ending your affair.”
    â€œPerhaps.”
    â€œAnd