The Wrong Gentleman

CHAPTER FOUR

"I made it clear that I didn't wish to be disturbed," Alton said, his gaze fixed upon the book of accounts before him. He didn't need to glance up to know who it was that invaded his privacy, for the scent of her perfume grew stronger as she approached.

"Indeed. I was told of your decision to stay trapped in your study with your nose," she paused, taking hold of his clean-shaven chin and gently nudging his face until he was staring into her light brown eyes, "your very handsome nose," she whispered warmly against his lips, "buried in work," she finished, a seductive smile touching the edges of her luscious pink lips as they laid claim to his mouth, reawakening his hunger.

He groaned, cupping her face as he hungrily devoured her lips. Visions of the many nights he partook of her warmth filled his mind until he could barely fight the urge to carry her to his bed. But Alton knew he had to resist the seductress in his arms, for he already swore to do so after Daisy walked in on them a month ago.

Alton could never forget that evening and the great task of not only having to explain to his four-year-old the purpose for which her governess, Mrs Bancroft, was found unclothed in his bed, but also having to endure Mrs Cooper's tongue lashing and Brea's silent disapproval. He had been beyond mortified, silently vowing to keep his hands off of Julianna Bancroft; a vow he feared he might break if he didn't end their kiss right this moment.

"Mrs Bancroft," he murmured, halting her fingers in their attempt to loosen his cravat.

She paused and pulled away, a small frown tugging on her brows. "Julianna," she corrected, and he nodded, fully aware of her hatred for the name 'Bancroft', for it haunted her with memories of a loveless marriage that had only ended two years ago, upon the tragic coach accident that had resulted in the death of her husband.

"We agreed to be discreet," he readjusted his cravat.

"You agreed to be discreet, Alton. I was strong-armed into it," she groaned, settling on the enormous mahogany desk before him. "Admit that you at least missed me."

"Perhaps." He rose to his feet, afraid he'd welcome her into his arms if he didn't put some distance between their bodies. "But I do not wish for either of my children to walk in here and find us in such a state. I believe you remember what happened the last time."

"How shall I forget?!" she said, throwing her arms in the air as she rose to her feet as well, visibly upset. She turned to him. "It was a little past midnight! Four-year-olds are usually asleep by that time, not to mention her decision to barge in on us without so much as a knock!"

"I'm her father, she needn't knock like a mere servant before entering my room."

"That is ridiculous, Alton! She will not barge in on us if we are married, will she?"

"She will not, and given your rejection of my proposal—three times, Julianna—we're not! I do not suppose it is honorable of either of us to set such poor examples for the girls. They look up to the two of us—to me, as their father, and to you, as their governess."

All it had taken was one evening of weakness with Julianna, and Alton found it impossible to resist her ever since. He had sought to do the right thing by her, and also to set the right example for his daughters by marrying Julianna, but after three attempts at a proposal, he realized Julianna's interest only lay in sharing his bed and not his home. Yet, he didn't wish to make further terrible decisions by bedding his children's governess. If she was to remain their governess, rather than be his wife, then it was best they kept things professional.

"So what?" She stepped forward, pressing a hand to his chest. Ignoring the wave of passion that washed over him at her action, he swallowed. "You're not ending things with me, Mr. Walker, are you?" she purred.