Elizabeth August - The Determined Virgin

Entering a door on the left, she glanced over her shoulder as Garth followed her inside. He’d been polite but cool when she’d introduced him to the butler. Alfred, she was fairly certain, liked silent, authoritative men. So far, so good, she assured herself.

Garth could easily see why this was called the white room. The walls were white with a decorative white molding along the top. The quilted bedspread on the queen-size four-poster bed was white as were the arched lace canopy overhead and the matching lace curtains at the windows. Touches of blue and pink added a softness to the stark whiteness of the room. Mixed in with the assortment of lace-covered pillows at the head of the bed were some smaller white throw pillows with tiny blue and pink flowers embroidered on them. And the white rug covering the major portion of the hardwood floor also had tiny blue and pink flowers worked into its design. The wooden furnishings were of the highest quality, all of the same dark cherry in a Queen Anne design. Through a door to his right, he could see a private bath. It, too, was basically white with pink and blue accents. “Nice room.”

“I like it. It reminds me of spring. It has a spacious, airy feel to it.” At least it used to feel that way, Hesper amended as her gaze came to rest on the bed. Suddenly that piece of furniture seemed a great deal smaller than she remembered. At her apartment, they’d had different rooms. And while the scent of his aftershave had lingered in the bathroom, arousing a few unwanted embers to threaten to spark into life, for the most part, she’d been able to control her unwanted reactions to the man. In these close quarters, ignoring him was going to be more difficult. Her jaw hardened. However, she could do it.

Noticing he’d followed her line of vision to the bed and was now watching her with an eyebrow raised in a questioning expression, she said coolly, “My grandmother will expect us to sleep together. By not sharing the same bed, we’ll run the risk of discovery. But as long as you stay on your side and I stay on mine, we’ll get along just fine.”

“Yes, ma am,” he replied.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” she said, beginning a quick inventory of the clothing he was wearing. She’d chosen the outfit so that he would not need to change but a sudden bout of nervousness forced her to make a final inspection. His top was a short-sleeve cotton, collared pullover. It fit nicely, not too tightly, still the strength of his shoulders was evident as well as the flatness of his abdomen. Her gaze traveled to his slacks. Definitely a very masculine male, she mused. Again an unwanted heat began to build within her. She forced her gaze to his loafers then back to his face.

“Is there a problem?” he asked curtly. He’d been scrutinized by women before but her gaze had been different, somehow more personal, almost like a physical touch. And the feminine appreciation in her eyes wasn’t helping, either. It had caused an answering response from his own body, awaking the lust he was trying hard to keep dormant. She isn’t making staying away from her easy, he grumbled silently.

“No, you’ll do fine,” she replied hastily, heading into the bathroom to brush her hair and check her lipstick.

A few minutes later, they entered the rose garden at the back of the house. Garth saw two people seated at a table in a gazebo at the center of the circularly laid out beds of flowers. One was a slender, whitehaired, elderly woman wearing a long-sleeve, sky blue dress with a lace collar and lace cuffs. Garth judged the man to be in his late fifties who looked to be in good physical condition, no potbelly and no sag at the shoulders, and was dressed in a short-sleeve, buttondown shirt and slacks. As he rose and approached them, the smugness of his expression bred an instant dislike in Garth. His instincts told him that this was a man who was used to winning and would go to any lengths to do so.

Reaching Garth and Hesper halfway, the man extended his hand to Garth. “I’m Peter Lowell, Hesper’s stepfather.”

Garth smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Garth Lawton,” he said, accepting the handshake.

The handshake completed quickly, Peter turned to Hesper, grinned slyly and said in a lowered voice. “On the surface it appears you have made a reasonably good choice. I suppose most women will find him passably good-looking but not really handsome. That’s a mark in his favor. Your grandmother never did like pretty men. And he seems to have decent manners. I suppose I should be worried.”

Hesper caught the hint in his voice that suggested he knew something about Garth that would ruin her chances. She hid her uneasiness behind a falsely confident smile. “You should be.”

Peter continued to grin like the cat who’d caught the canary. “Come along, your grandmother will be angry with me for keeping her waiting.”

Allowing her stepfather to precede them by a few feet, Hesper edged closer to Garth and asked in whispered tones, “Does Tobias know all there is to know about you?”

“Yes.” A curl of guilt wove through him. Maybe he should have told her more about his past. But it was too late now.

“Then I’ll just have to trust his judgment once again,” she muttered as she mounted the short flight of steps to the gazebo. Her grandmother had risen to greet them. Hesper gave her the required, dutiful hug, then stepped back to stand beside Garth. “You’re looking well, Grandmama.”

“The years have been good to me,” Jeanette DuPree replied, coolly. Her gaze traveled critically over her granddaughter. “You’re looking well yourself.”

Garth had ordered himself to relax but his back muscles tensed as the elderly woman’s attention turned to him. He could see the family resemblance between her and Tobias in the blue color of her eyes and the shape of her mouth. But that was where the similarity ended. When meeting new people, Tobias exhibited a friendliness that put them at ease. This woman’s expression grew harsher and bleaker as her gaze traveled over him. She made him feel like an interloper…an unwelcome interloper. He glanced toward Peter Lowell and saw the amusement in the man’s eyes. There was no doubt left in his mind that Jeanette DuPree was aware of his past and clearly did not approve.

“So you’re the man who married my granddaughter,” she said, finishing her inspection.

“This is Garth Lawton, Grandmama.” Hesper made the introduction.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Garth extended his hand to the elderly woman.

“We shall see.” She accepted with a firmness that surprised him.

Hesper heard the challenge in her grandmother’s voice. The gauntlet had been cast.

“Please be seated.” Jeanette motioned toward the two unoccupied chairs at the table.

Instead of obeying, Garth stepped behind Jeanette DuPree’s chair before Alfred had a chance and held it for her.

“I can see my brother has taught you manners,” she said, watching him round the table and seat himself next to Hesper. Never taking her eyes off him, Jeanette performed a small backward wave of her hand toward Alfred. “You’re dismissed.”

As the butler gave his usual, modified bow, then left, she continued to study Garth. “I understand you work for Tobias.”

From her tone he knew this was merely a rhetorical question, still she paused as if expecting a response. “Yes.”

Jeanette poured two cups of tea. The first she handed to Hesper, barely giving her granddaughter a glimpse. The second she handed to Garth, her gaze locking onto him once again. “I spoke to my brother but he was not as helpful as I’d hoped. Still, he did tell me you were in the military for a number of years. You served with the Military Police.”