Page 15 of The Earl That Got Away (Sirens in Silk #2)

Chapter Twelve

H awk suppressed a primal urge to pummel Guy even as he understood his reaction.

This proud and confident version of Naila was hard to look away from.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Guy said. “I believe I have found my next dance partner.”

As much as he wanted to trip his friend, hopefully causing him fall hard on his nose, Hawk nodded politely and watched Guy do what Hawk restrained himself from doing. His friend immediately approached Naila and before long, the two were waltzing.

Grabbing another glass of champagne, Hawk spent the next half hour watching Naila dance with a succession of partners, which included the architect, who danced with her twice. She’d clearly decided to cast off her wallflower ways along with the shapeless gowns.

The appreciation that other men in the room had for her was palpable.

It was as if Naila had suddenly come alive again after a long season of hibernation.

As soon one partner escorted her off the dance floor, another would appear in his place.

A part of Hawk felt fortunate to witness her spectacular metamorphosis.

The other part, the jealous part, clenched his teeth until they ached every time a new dance partner put his hands on her.

Seeing Naila this evening rekindled the exhilaration he’d once felt in her presence.

Naila danced as if alive with joy and optimism, like there wasn’t a single obstacle that she couldn’t overcome.

Her vibrations were contagious. When a man took a woman like that into his arms, he felt there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish with such a brilliant creature by his side.

Strickland came up beside him. “Perhaps it will be your turn next.”

Hawk forced his attention away from Naila. “Congratulations again, my friend. How does it feel to be a married man?”

“Like all is finally right with the world,” the duke responded with a sigh of contentment.

“I wish you much happiness.” Hawk returned his focus to Naila—his gaze inadvertently dropping to the seductive sway of her abundant hips—as Guy escorted her off the dance floor for the second time.

Strickland was watching, too. “Your little wallflower has come out of her shell.”

Hawk bottomed out his champagne. “She is not my anything.” Unfortunately.

“She could be.”

“Have you forgotten that I already attempted to make her mine? She resoundingly declined.”

“That was a long time ago, when you were a young man with no prospects.”

Bitter acid rose in his throat. “I would not want Naila to wed me because I am an earl.”

“Your title and fortune will win over her family. I gather that you alone were always acceptable to her.”

“What are you two talking about?” the bride asked as she joined them. The new duchess was resplendent in her white gown threaded with silver.

“We’re discussing how beautiful my bride is.” Strickland pulled her close to his side. “And what a fortunate man I am.”

“Pray don’t forget it,” she said cheekily.

Hawk inclined his chin. “I wish you every happiness, Duchess.”

She gave him a rueful smile. “I don’t think I will ever become accustomed to being called duchess.”

“If the duke ever gives you any trouble, you must call upon me,” Hawk said gallantly. “I am ever at your service.”

“Well,” she said hesitantly, “there is something you can do for me.”

“Is there?” he said with surprise. “You must name it.”

“Strickland and I are going up to one of his hunting lodges for a week before joining my relatives in London,” she told him.

“Rather than leaving my family members behind here at Castle Tremayne for that week, I hoped you might consider inviting them to Briar Hall for two or three nights since your estate isn’t far from London. ”

“You want me to host a house party?” Hawk smothered an immediate urge to quash her plan.

The last thing he needed was more time with Naila.

His sense of well-being required that he be as far from Naila as possible in order to regain his hard-earned equilibrium.

He did not care for the sensations—jealousy and banked fury, desire and possessiveness—that swept through him this evening as he watched a succession of men put their paws on Naila.

And yet.

The idea of keeping Naila close, of showing her his beloved Briar Hall, of having her under his roof, held a dangerous appeal. And that alarmed him. His carefully honed instinct for self-preservation, which he’d wrapped around him like a cloak since Philadelphia, was quickly unraveling.

“You want Hawk to host your relatives?” Strickland asked his bride. “Whatever for?”

“It would be a nice surprise for Naila,” Raya said. “She is entranced by Elizabethan architecture and I’m told that Briar Hall is an excellent example of that style of home. I hate to overstep but—”

“I think it is an excellent idea,” Strickland interjected. “Hawk can personally give Naila a tour of his property.”

Hawk resisted the urge to scowl at his friend. “Are you trying to play matchmaker?” he growled, the question flying out of his mouth before he could censor it, like he did with most of his thoughts.

Comprehension lit Raya’s face. “Oh... I had not thought of that. But Hind really is a lovely girl. This visit will give you a chance to get better acquainted with my cousin.”

Studiously avoiding Hawk’s gaze, Strickland said, “I don’t think Hind is a good match for the earl.”

Her forehead crinkled. “Then what are you saying?”

“I think perhaps an older woman might suit him more—”

Hawk decided to interject before Strickland ventured into dangerous territory. There was no telling how much wine and champagne his friend had imbibed. Who knew what could fly out of his mouth next? “It would be my pleasure to host the Darwishes at Briar Hall,” he said.

“Lovely!” Raya clapped her hands together. “Auntie Majida has elected to stay behind. She’s perfectly content here and one of the staff will bring her to London in a week’s time.”

Hawk wondered if he should take the old woman’s decision not to visit Briar Hall as a personal affront. A part of him wanted her to see his home, to fully comprehend the scope of what she’d persuaded Naila to give up. But the other part was relieved not to have to entertain the old battle-ax.

“Afterward,” Raya continued, “if you’d like, you could come to London with them.”

“A honeymoon with the relatives,” Strickland said, the words rich with sarcasm. “What more could a newlywed man ask for?”

“What an excellent idea,” Hawk said pointedly.

Weary of Strick’s innuendos about Naila, he welcomed the opportunity to get under his friend’s skin.

Besides, escorting his guests to town was a courtesy he’d normally extend to foreign visitors.

“I would love to join you all in London. The more the merrier.”

Strick scowled at him. “Said no bridegroom ever.”

After the ducal couple wandered away, Hawk made his escape, slipping out to the terrace for a cigarette. He didn’t smoke much these days but something about seeing Naila dance as though she were the bride made him crave one.

He found an old stone bench deep in a quiet part of the outer garden and lit up.

Inhaling deeply, he savored the stillness, relieved to have a moment of peace away from the crush.

As he exhaled, long and slow, the faraway sounds of music and laughter drifted out to him, mingling with the sounds of the night, the chirp of insects, birds calling out to one another.

His ears honed in on a new sound. The delicate jingle of bracelets.

A calling card like no other that summoned the past and could belong to only one person.

She appeared, a dream but real, a rustle of orange silk in a cloud of delicate perfume.

Naila, more appealing than ever, halted when she spotted him.

He felt sure she would have preferred to pretend not to see him. But surprise lit her luminous face when their gazes met and there was no pretending that they weren’t alone in a garden as they’d been all those years ago.

After a moment, during which she seemed to come to an understanding with herself, humor lit her eyes. “Fancy meeting you here, Inglese.”

Englishman. Something pulled in his chest. How many years had it been since someone had called him that?

“Looking for a smoke?” he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder before meeting his gaze. “It has been a very long time since I’ve smoked with a strange man in the garden.”

“Ah, only this time I am not a stranger.”

“Aren’t you?” she asked mildly.

Her offhand remark stung because it highlighted the chasm between them. Which was her doing. Not his.

She settled next to him on the bench. The clean woody notes of her perfume coated his nostrils. “Are you going to offer me a cigarette?”

“This is the only one I currently have in my possession,” he informed her. “But you are most welcome share it with me.”

Her full dark brows lifted. “You would do that?”

“It would be ungentlemanly of me not to.”

She accepted the cigarette from him. Holding the fag between delicate fingers, she closed her rose-tinted lips around its tip and inhaled long and slow. “It has been forever since I’ve had a cigarette.”

“Why is that?”

Her eyes glittered at him. “Because it has been a very long time since I’ve been in a garden with you.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Ah, so you did not make a habit of it after I left America.”

“I did not,” she said simply.

“Why have you abandoned your dance partners this evening?”

“The same reason as you, I suspect. I escaped into the garden for a reprieve. It has been a long time since I’ve danced so much.”

“Why is that?” He was genuinely curious. “You used to adore it.”

She met his gaze. “I didn’t feel like dancing after you went away.”

Being this close to her, really talking to her, was like a knife through his heart. And yet he craved any crumb of interaction with her. “That wasn’t my doing.”

“No.” She swallowed, the intricate cords of her throat stirring beneath vulnerable skin. “It wasn’t.”

He felt a stab of guilt. For what? For holding her accountable for wrecking him?

“I am glad to have a moment to speak with you.” She passed the cigarette back to him. “To say a proper goodbye.”

“A proper goodbye?” He took the cigarette and put it to his lips, mindful that just moments ago, her mouth touched the same spot. “How do you mean?”

“Raya and the duke depart for their wedding trip tomorrow. I assume that you will be leaving as well, along with the other guests.”

“Your sister has other plans for us.” He returned the cigarette, lightly grazing her fingers.

Touching her, no matter how slight, still blasted through his blood like wildfire.

He was dismayed that his body’s primal reaction to her hadn’t diminished.

At all. He rubbed the afflicted arm. “I gather she didn’t tell you. ”

Her brows came together. “Raya has other plans? For us?” Even in the low light, he could detect her blush. “How so?”

“She has asked me to escort your family to Briar Hall, my primary country estate, for two or three days before you journey on to London.” He watched carefully for her reaction.

Alarm lit her face. “Whatever for?”

“As a special surprise to you, from what I gather. She asked me to give you a tour of my home.” He could easily picture Naila at the place where she might have been mistress. “Briar Hall is a prime example of Elizabethan architecture.”

Her midnight eyes lit up, but then the glow in them dimmed. “But it is too much of an imposition.”

“Not at all,” he assured her. And then, because he must, for the life of him, resist falling into her thrall again, no matter what it cost, he added, “Besides, Miss Hind indicated an interest in the nature walks we can offer at Briar Hall. I am keen to show them to her.”

“I see.” Hawk thought he detected a hint of sarcasm, although he couldn’t be sure. “Yes, Hind is very fond of walking in the wild. Will you ask Mr. Amar, as well?”

“Mr. Amar?”

“Kareem is an architect. He’s expressed an interest in seeing Briar Hall.”

Ah. She’d answered his opening shot with a cut of her own, and it hit exactly as she intended. Jealousy flooded him.

“Then I shall also ask your friend Mr. Amar to join us,” he said stiffly. “If it pleases you.”

“Yes,” she said. “It does please me. Very much.”

“Then it will no doubt delight the new duchess,” he responded, “and I am ever at her service.”

She did not look impressed. “You’ve become so polite,” she mused. “So proper.”

Coming from Naila, it was not a compliment. “You knew me a long time ago. I am a different person now.”

She thought for a moment. “And yet here you are, still hiding away in the garden smoking cigarettes.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “As are you.” She was different, the Naila of this evening. It took him a moment to put his finger on it. To realize this conversation was like talking to a grown-up version of the girl he had met in Philadelphia. The one who laughed easily, who glowed from within.

And, just as quickly, he remembered that this grown woman before him was an even more potent incarnation of the Naila who’d captured his heart and then trampled it. She’d destroyed him once. He couldn’t give her the opportunity to do it again.

He rose. “If you will excuse me.”

She looked up, surprised. “But you haven’t finished your cigarette.”

“It is yours to enjoy.” He spun away from her and walked as quickly as his legs would take him without breaking into a full-blown run.