that for a split second she wondered what he was talking about. Then she remembered. Spitsbergen, the Arctic, the voyage.
She stared. “Did you kiss me simply to try to seduce me into consenting?”
Alex looked amused at the chagrin she could not keep from her voice. “No,” he said. “I would not have stopped there if I was trying to seduce you.”
“I stopped,” Joanna said. “You did not.”
He shrugged. “I might have known that we would quarrel about that, as we do about all things.” He shot her a challenging glance. “You enjoyed it.”
Her chin came up. “So did you.”
“On that we do agree then.”
Again there was a taut silence.
“How vexing you are,” Joanna said. “How maddening it is that I can find you so utterly infuriating and yet—”
“And yet you wish to tear my clothes off and make love to me?” He smiled at her evident outrage. “Forgive me, you know how very direct I can be.”
“What I wish to do or do not wish to do makes no odds,” Joanna said. “You still cannot come with me to Spitsbergen.”
The words came out with stark finality and Alex looked taken aback.
“You refuse me-after that?”
“That was a mistake, Lord Grant.” She stepped back to try to gain some breathing space. “David’s daughter is the only thing that brings us together, Lord Grant. I am going to fetch her from Spitsbergen. You will be going wherever the Admiralty posts you, I imagine.” She held his gaze. “And since you have always made it so clear that you desire no emotional ties or responsibilities, perhaps you will wish to exercise your guardianship via the lawyers in future?”
Alex looked angry now. There was an ominous stillness about him. “Are you still trying to imply that I shirk my duty?”
“No,” Joanna said. She pressed her damp palms together. “No, of course not. Not in any material sense at least.”
“And I do not intend to evade my responsibility to Nina either.” Alex moved restlessly. “So I will accompany you on the journey and keep you safe. You can scarcely offer her a good home if you are sick or injured or dead.”
“But I do not want you with me,” Joanna argued, feeling her temper rising again, irritated by his stubbornness. “I have told you! Can you not see—”
“I can see that you are afraid of our attraction,” Alex said bluntly, “and that is why you are denying me.” His eyes were an intense dark gray. “You are afraid that if we spend time in one another’s company we will become lovers because that is what we both want.”
Joanna’s throat dried at his words. That was precisely what she was afraid of.
“We might, of course, kill one another first,” she said politely.
Alex smiled again, that adventurer’s smile. “We might. It is a risk worth taking.”
“No, it is not.”
“You are trying to pretend that nothing happened between us.”
“No,” Joanna said. “I am not. I cannot deny our inconvenient attraction.” She made a helpless gesture. “But I do not wish for an affaire with you.”
Alex stepped closer to her.
“Yes, you do,” he said. “I can tell you do. Whatever is between us burns you as fiercely as it does me, Joanna.”
Overwhelmed by his physical proximity, Joanna could only shrug helplessly. “You see-we always disagree.” She tilted her face up to meet the intensity of his gaze. “I don’t deny that I want you,” she said honestly. “I do not like it, nor do I understand it, but—” She broke off. His hand was on her wrist again, his touch warm, compulsive, drawing her closer. She stepped away, swept by fragile, turbulent emotion. She did not for a moment believe that this man was like her late husband. Alex might be direct and even harsh, but he was never untrustworthy or dishonest. She felt it. She knew it instinctively. He would never physically hurt her. Yet indulging in an affaire with him would be madness. Once their desire burned out there would be nothing left but reproach and dislike.
“I will not do it,” she said. “You think me shallow, and as light with my reputation as many other ladies of the ton, but I am not, and even if I were, you are the very last man I would take as a lover. I would never give myself to a man who has no respect for me.”
Alex’s dark gaze was hooded. “You damn near did.”
“Which is why I do not intend to see you ever again,” Joanna said.
The temperature in the room fell as swiftly as though a door had opened to allow in the coldest winter night.
“You will see plenty of me,” Alex said. “I fully intend to be on that ship.”
“I don’t want you there,” Joanna said, holding fast to her temper.
“Your wishes count for nothing in this,” Alex said. “I cannot in all conscience as Nina’s guardian allow you to wander into danger through your own stupidity.”
Joanna gritted her teeth. “How arrogant you are! I do not need a hero to protect me. I can think of nothing worse.”
She broke from his grip, grabbed her cloak and bonnet from the chair and flung open the door.
“Brooke,” she said, throwing Alex a defiant look. “Lord Grant is leaving.”
“My lord.” The prizefighter bowed to Alex with an exquisite courtesy that barely masked his hostility and stood to one side to allow Alex to exit. Alex ignored him. He took Joanna’s hand and pressed a kiss on it. She felt the brush of his lips on her skin and repressed the response that flared through her.
Brooke rocked back on his heels, spoiling for a fight. “My lady?” he said, but Joanna shook her head. Alex stood back courteously for her to pass and they went out.
In the street the night was dark and hot. The pugilist club members were spilling out of the inn now that the bout was over, raucous and full of ale and good humor with the money they had won. When they saw Joanna, a ragged cheer broke over the crowd. They surrounded her, pressing close, bowing, wanting to kiss her hand. She saw Alex watching, his expression darkly disapproving in the glow of the lamplight and she felt reckless and defiant and blew kisses to all her admirers. The riotous mood of the crowd swelled; Alex’s frown correspondingly deepened. Two pinks of the ton made an elaborate leg to Joanna, competing to quote sonnets in her praise whilst the more disorderly elements in the throng booed so loudly that Joanna felt obliged to intervene before there was a breach of the peace.
“Go home and sleep it off, Lord Selsey,” she said when one sprig of nobility tried to kiss her and almost took a tumble in the gutter. “You are foxed.”
“Devil a bit, ma’am,” Selsey said. “Still sober enough to offer you my hand and my heart—”
“Again,”
