Elizabeth August - The Determined Virgin

Garth was beginning to wonder exactly what he’d gotten himself into. Curiosity killed the cat, he recalled. Still he found himself more interested than ever in meeting Tobias’s sister. “I’ll remember not to overstay my welcome.”

A twinge of guilt worked its way through Hesper. “I should have warned you about all of this beforehand.” A defensiveness entered her voice. “But you are only doing this for money, so you shouldn’t take anything she says or does personally.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he assured her. “I’ve got the hide of a rhino.”

She studied him narrowly. “You don’t let anyone get too close, do you?”

“Only a very select few,” he replied. “Those I know I can trust.”

She nodded her approval.

“What’s to keep your father from revealing your game and exposing me as a cad?”

“If he did that, he’d have to admit to being after my money. Grandmama wouldn’t like that and he’s counting on being in her will.”

Garth smiled dryly. Maybe being orphaned hadn’t been such a bad break after all.

For the rest of the drive to New York City, they spoke little.

Arriving at her apartment, she offered him his choice of the bedroom or the pull-out couch in the living room. Catching the glimmer of surprise in his eyes, she added, “I hope you weren’t expecting more elaborate quarters. I could only use the money in my trust for my education. Since I graduated, I haven’t been allowed to touch it except to manipulate the investments. I live off of my salary as an accountant.”

“It isn’t the smallness. It’s just a lot homier than I pictured. I expected something more stark, more modern… glass-top tables, black and white decor,” he said, his gaze traveling over the plush, upholstered furniture, their flowery prints giving the room an air of cheerfulness and femininity. Doilies protected table surfaces cluttered with assortments of knickknacks and family photographs.

“I have a soft side,” she said stiffly. “I simply prefer not to expose it too publicly.”

He’d nearly convinced himself that the real Hesper O’Grady was a hard, calculating woman with no soul. This apartment proved him wrong. “Your softer side is very appealing.”

A glow of pleasure brought a flush to Hesper’s cheeks and her legs felt suddenly weak—the kind of weakness she’d experienced with her first teenage crush. Those adolescent years had proved to be treacherous. But she’d survived them unscathed. Once past them, she was certain she had her emotions completely under control. Now, suddenly those hormones she’d ordered to remain dormant were vibrantly alive. Reminding herself of the hell Peter had put her mother through, she quelled them. “Do you want the bedroom or the couch?” she repeated tersely, her tone letting him know that she had no intention of exposing her softer side to him.

Garth studied her with interest. “You remind me of an armadillo. The moment he senses his soft underbelly is in danger, he curls up into a ball, using his hard shell to protect him.”

She met his gaze with defiance. “I have my reasons, Mr. Lawton. Tobias said you could be trusted. I do hope you don’t try to prove him wrong.”

Garth had seen that same cold purpose in the eyes of people willing to die rather than surrender their ideals. He knew he’d be smart never to cross the line she’d drawn between them and he prided himself on being, at least, that smart.

“The couch or the bed?” she repeated.

“The couch,” he replied.

The next morning, Hesper took care of a few business matters, then they left for her grandmother’s estate outside of Wilmington, Delaware, arriving in time for tea.

“Impressive place,” Garth said as they neared the end of the tree-lined private driveway and the huge gray stone manor house came into view.

“My grandfather was old money. It was dwindling when he married my grandmother. He never had a head for business and was happy to turn the reins over to her and concentrate on his horses and his golf game.”

“A smart man knows his limitations.”

She glanced at him dryly. “You’re an Eastwood fan. I should have guessed.”

He smiled and shrugged. “We all have our heroes. Dirty Harry is one of mine.”

His smile caused her breath to momentarily lock in her lungs. She’d seen men smile before, she chided herself. For his to have such a strong effect on her wasn’t reasonable. She ordered herself to forget it. Instead she said, “You have a nice smile.”

He’d been told that by women before, but this time the words seemed to carry a more important weight. It was as if he really cared if she liked him or not. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want me getting close to her, he reminded himself. Still, she’d been the one to make the friendly overture and he couldn’t resist seeing how far it would go. “Thanks. I like to think I can be likable.”

Mentally Hesper kicked herself. She’d opened the door and she’d better close it quickly. Her reactions to this man made being friendly with him much too much like walking on quicksand. Her tone becoming businesslike, she said, “Let’s just hope my grandmother likes your smile as well.”

The armadillo had rolled into its ball again, Garth noted. No doubt that was for the best, he added and concentrated on his driving.

Alfred greeted them at the door. In his early sixties, dressed in black tails, the remaining circle of fringe on his now nearly bald head cut short and crisp, tall, slender and with his usual staid expression on his face, her grandmother’s butler never seemed to change, Hesper thought as she introduced Garth.

After a slight but deferential bow toward Garth, Alfred returned his attention to Hesper. “Your grandmother has had the white room prepared for you. I’ll have Charles bring your bags up.”

Hesper was not surprised to discover that her grandmother had noticed her preference for that particular room. Most people thought the elderly woman was too engrossed in herself to pay any heed to the likes and dislikes of others. But Hesper knew her grandmother’s eyes were much sharper and her interest in others much keener than she led people to believe. “Thank you, Alfred.”

His expression never changing, he added, “You have fifteen minutes to freshen up. Then Mrs. DuPree expects you to join her and your stepfather in the rose garden.”

“Pleasant fellow,” Garth muttered under his breath as he accompanied Hesper up the wide winding staircase.

“Beneath that frosty exterior is an honest, trustworthy man with a very kind streak,” she replied, keeping her voice low. “When I was nine, I stayed with my grandmother while my parents went to Paris. One night I was late for supper and my grandmother sent me up to my room without allowing me anything to eat. A little while later there was a knock on the door and when I opened it, there was Alfred with a tray. No one else in the house would have had the courage to go against my grandmother’s wishes. But I have discovered through the years that Alfred has a very strong sense of what is right and wrong and when he believes my grandmother has acted wrongly, he lets her know.”

“Your grandmother, obviously, values him.”

They reached the landing and Hesper turned down the hall to their right. “I’ve always thought she put up with him because good help is hard to find, but I think you’re right. I think she does value him more than she wants people to know.” She recalled feeling certain Alfred had enjoyed throwing Eloise’s third husband out of the house. Had he been influential in her grandmother’s decision? she wondered. Mentally she shrugged. No one had liked Homer. Even Eloise had divorced him after barely six months. And while her grandmother might ask someone else’s opinion, she always made up her own mind. Still, Hesper found herself trying to recall any hint of what Garth’s first impression on Alfred had been.