Free An Artful Seduction by Tina Gabrielle

and the gilt framed portraits of former Tory club members.
    Warmth seeped into Grayson’s bones. Such comforts should be satisfying enough, but his thoughts returned to Eliza and her sisters in the cold shop.
    “Quite the charming family, don’t you agree?” Brandon said.
    Grayson turned from the window. “I suppose you could call them charming.”
    Coarse male laughter sounded from the rear of the club where a few men had ventured out in the weather to engage in a game of hazard. Attendance was sparse tonight, but gamblers could never stay away for long.
    “I had no idea Jonathan Miller’s daughters were so attractive,” Brandon said.
    Grayson sipped his brandy. “Why am I not surprised you noticed?”
    Brandon lowered his glass . “I think you should leave them be.”
    Grayson scowled. “Leave them be? It’s only the eldest I’m interested in. She’s going to lead me to a stolen Rembrandt and her father.”
    Brandon took on a serious expression, obviously displeased. “They have enough hardship in their life without you bringing back their thief of a father who abandoned them. It’s a wonder they’ve kept their household together thus far.”
    Guilt pierced Grayson’s chest. He didn’t want to feel it, but the unwanted emotion was there. His thoughts returned to Eliza and their shared kiss. The sizzling attraction that had been building between them since he’d set eyes on her at the Tutton auction had driven him to kiss her. She’d been tentative at the first touch of their lips, and even stunned by the stroke of his tongue against hers. For all her worldly demeanor as a widow, she’d reacted like it was her first.
    Ludicrous.
    She’d been married for three years. And she was clearly a woman of passion. Her instinctive response to him had been strong, and it had taken all of his willpower not to sweep her into his lap and ravage her mouth. He’d wanted to press his lips to more of her skin—her nape, her shoulders, her magnificent breasts. He didn’t know what was more disturbing, her apparent inexperience or the explosion of lust that had shot straight to his groin.
    He inwardly cursed himself. To want any woman so badly was unwise, let alone his enemy’s daughter.
    He refused to succumb to the temptation.
    “I’m not a bastard. I realize they’re struggling,” Grayson said.
    “The place was freezing. I wouldn’t be surprised if they all came down with colds,” Brandon countered.
    Grayson was again besieged by remorse. “I’ll see that they don’t.”
    “How? She seems too proud to accept your charity.”
    “She is stubborn,” Grayson mumbled. “And too pretty for her own good.” He sipped his drink, and the alcohol left a bitter taste in his mouth despite the fine quality of the brandy. “And to think all along that her sister is the artist and forger.”
    “Leave Amelia out of this,” Brandon snapped, drawing the attention of an older gentleman enjoying a plate of roast beef a few tables away.
    Grayson’s lips curled in a mocking smile. “Don’t be so fiercely protective. My arrangement is with Eliza. She has no idea that I’m aware Amelia is the artist and I’m going to keep the knowledge to myself for a while.”
    Brandon shifted in his seat. “Good. Because I’d like to see Amelia again.”
    “Don’t be an idiot. You need an heiress, remember? The Duke of Townsend’s daughter waits.”
    Brandon narrowed his eyes. “If I didn’t know better, Grayson, I’d say you’re lusting after Eliza Somerton. How long has it been since your last mistress? Perhaps you need to replace her.”
    Grayson drained his glass in one swallow, remaining silent. He never lusted after a woman. He was always in control of his emotions, in and out of the bedroom. The only wild passion he experienced was when gazing at expertly executed artwork. Even then, he presented a cool facade as the critic. No one could know the inner euphoria he was experiencing. No one knew his opinions or his