Improperly Wed (Aristocratic Grooms #3)(32)
Author: Anna DePalo

He felt a bone-deep sense of rightness—like turning up an ace at the end of a card game. Certainly, it wasn’t a feeling that he’d gotten with any other woman.

Now all that remained was to get Belinda to acknowledge aloud that he, a dreaded Granville, had the same effect on her. It was all that remained, but it was a tall order.

“The baby’s arrival caught both me and Tamara by surprise,” Sawyer said, breaking into Colin’s thoughts. “Though since he weighed seven pounds, perhaps it was a good thing that Tamara didn’t go on for even another week.”

“Thanks to Tamara’s dual citizenship,” Colin remarked, “the little viscount will also be an American heir to the earldom.”

Sawyer rose and headed to the bar. “I’m sure one of my ancestors is rolling in his grave right now. Probably one of those who was among George III’s cronies.”

“No doubt.”

“Tamara rather liked the idea of—”

“—snubbing one of your starchy ancestors?” Hawk finished.

Sawyer turned back and smiled. “I’m just relieved we were within walking distance of a hospital when Tamara went into labor. And now with the baby, we’re heading in a new direction.”

Hawk addressed Colin. “Speaking of new directions, you and Belinda appear to be on more amicable footing these days, Easterbridge.”

Colin cast him a droll but forbearing look. “You mean she doesn’t seem to be on the verge of doing me in?”

Sawyer looked up, pausing in the act of pouring scotch into a double old-fashioned. “One can’t help but note the subdued fireworks.”

“Meaning there still are some?”

Hawk tilted his head. “I’m surprised I haven’t enjoyed more barbed comments between you and Belinda up to now.”

“Yes, rather unsporting of me not to provide more entertainment,” Colin commented drily.

“We do have empathy for you, Easterbridge,” Sawyer put in, walking back with three glasses in his hands, “because we were in your shoes ourselves not too long ago.”

Colin knew that neither Hawk nor Sawyer had had a smooth path to the altar with their wives. And yet, both were happily married now.

“Still, it is interesting to watch how the mighty have fallen,” Hawk added with a grin, accepting a glass.

Colin quirked a brow. “What makes you think I’ve fallen—or even kneeled?”

Hawk and Sawyer exchanged looks before Hawk looked back at Colin with a sly smile. “Then I’ll look forward to witnessing it happen when it does.”

Colin felt his cell phone vibrate, fished it out of his pocket, and glanced down for a moment at the screen.

“Congratulate me, gentlemen,” he announced, accepting his own glass from Sawyer. “You’re looking at the new owner of the Wentworth’s Elmer Street property.”

Hawk’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve bought another Wentworth property in London?”

“Only a minor one.”

“And let me guess,” Sawyer said, “you did not reveal yourself in this real-estate deal, either.”

“Only to those who know the exact constituency of the firm Halbridge Properties,” Colin returned blandly.

Hawk shook his head in resignation. “You got Halbridge from combining Halstead and Easterbridge, I suppose. Clever.”

Colin said nothing.

“You’re in deep waters,” Hawk commented finally.

Sawyer nodded his head in agreement. “Be careful, Easterbridge. Much as I admire your prowess in business, you’re in uncharted territory here.”

“I’m used to high stakes,” Colin replied blandly, raising his glass in anticipation of a toast to the new arrival. “Bring it on.”

Belinda looked down at the newborn Viscount Averil sleeping in his crib and her heart constricted. Tamara and Sawyer had named the baby Elliott, but by virtue of his father’s name and position, he carried a courtesy title and thus was styled Elliott Langsford, Viscount Averil.

Belinda cast a glance around the nursery, done in shades of soft gray and white, before looking down at the baby again. She, Pia and a proud but tired Tamara hovered over the crib.

Two days ago, Belinda reflected, she’d again had the best sex of her life. It had been glorious, liberating and disconcerting at the same time. If she was in the same room as Colin, she wanted to throw herself at him. And from the looks of him, Colin stood ready to catch her at a moment’s notice.

Yet, she knew it was temporary. Their agreement was for two years. There would never be a sleeping baby with downy skin making soft breathing noises, his torso rising and falling with every rapid beat of his heart. She and Colin had used protection to ensure it.

Belinda swallowed. She told herself that her emotion stemmed from the fact that she wouldn’t be a mother at least until after she and Colin parted ways. Of course, she didn’t want to become pregnant. Of course—it wasn’t part of her understanding with Colin.

“Should we sit down?” Pia whispered, looking from Tamara to Belinda and back.

Belinda shot Tamara a look of concern.

Tamara’s smile was weary but transcendent. “Only if I have a donut pillow to sit on.”

Pia giggled and then all three of them moved toward the doorway and into the adjacent playroom.

Tamara sat in a rocking chair while Pia removed a stuffed giraffe from its position and sat on a toy chest.

Belinda made herself comfortable in a perch on a child-size chair.

She looked around the brightly colored playroom, a contrast to the nursery next door. “You know,” she quipped, “I think I need to get back to playing with a primary palette and get away from all this impressionist stuff.”

Tamara and Pia laughed.

Tamara gestured to the bookshelves set against a far wall. “Your watercolors await you. We’re stocked for kids of all ages.”

Pia tilted her head to the side. “Speaking of playing, you and Colin are acting positively cozy. Did I imagine it, or did he give you a warm kiss soon after you walked in the door together?”

Belinda flushed.

Pia was a true romantic, but Belinda didn’t want to give her friend false hope. The truth was that she and Colin had become lovers. But they didn’t have a permanent relationship, despite being married.

Tamara sat up straighter. “Something tells me that Belinda is looking at Colin more kindly these days.”

Pia clapped her hands. “Oh, good. I always thought you and Colin should—”