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He stared at me for a long moment, and for the first time tonight, his eyes lowered. Just now I realized that, with my constant shifting, the blanket had fallen down my legs and to the floor.
I was wearing my cotton nightgown, with thin, butterfly sleeves and a soft lace bodice. It went down mid-thigh, showing a lot of leg. It was old enough that it had thinned out in spots.
Just like this home, it was well used.
I wanted to reach down and pull the blanket back up over me—suddenly feeling vulnerable in a way I hadn’t before, as if the man could see straight through my posturing. He somehow knew that I was only pretending to be brave. Pretending I knew what I was doing.
Pretending I hadn’t been wondering what kind of women he dated, only seconds ago.
He didn't take his eyes away from my neck, where he seemed to be fixated. He suddenly reached forward, pressing a knuckle to my pulse, pursing his lips. Could he feel it hammering in my throat? Hear it?
See how my breath hitched when he’d touched me?
He didn’t speak for a long moment, and I was frozen in place, overwhelmed by the potency of his proximity. I could only stare up at him like he was a blinding god.
Finally, he leaned back, withdrawing his hand. “What makes you think I'm concerned about your tastes, Miss Duvall?"
Anger quickly burned through my fascination. “And what makes you think I would ever sell Darkmoor Manor to such an arrogant ass, Mr. Craven? Why would I sell it to someone who won’t love it as I do?” Something flashed in his gaze, so quickly I couldn’t catch the meaning. “You’ll just fix it up and resell it to the highest bidder, probably someone as soulless as you are.”
He laughed, the sound belting from him. I stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned, my thoughts scattering, not realizing he could even make that kind of noise. It filled the room with warmth, seeming to permeate the empty crooks and crannies, washing away the sadness that had filled it, only hours earlier.
And then, I realized, he was laughing at me.
“Really?” I hissed. “Doesn’t seem smart to laugh at the person who can give you what you want.”
“You might not want to sell to an ass like me, but I can promise you, I’m the best one you’ll find around here.”
“Speak for yourself,” Crooking an eyebrow, I glanced downward, indicating the rear end that was currently sitting on my coffee table.
“I don’t need to.” His smirk only grew bigger. “There are plenty of women who will do it for me.”
“So arrogant,” I grumbled, looking away, my cheeks lightly pinking. “And yet, arrogance only goes so far. A little grace would help.” My throat thickened. He’d jumped in after my sister, then held her, right there in a red, muddy hole.
The whole world was waiting and yet, he didn’t seem to care.
He gave her, and me, what we needed in that moment. That was something I could never repay.
But he’d laughed at and intimidated me, and I hated that. It made me feel small and insignificant, when I was already feeling so inept.
“I must warn you,” he began. “This world is for grown ups?—”
“This again? Oh, please teach me, Daddy,—”
“If I were your daddy,” he growled, his eyes flashing, “I’d be tempted to spank your ass.”
“For—” My lips parted, speechless and—and—and my insides prickled with heat. Being bent over his knee. His hand on my ass. Touching me so—so intimately. “For what?!” I finally managed to croak out.
“You don’t want to know.”
What the hell did that mean? “Feel free to educate me.”
“I would teach you exactly how you should behave.” He leaned forward, his eyes boring into me, his fingers sliding up my thighs, pulling my nightgown up with it. Liquid heat shot through me and I…I didn’t… I swallowed the knot in my throat. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated under my skin. “I would show you the dark things of this world, Miss Duvall. Teach you exactly how depraved people can be.”
“Show me, then,” I retorted, leaning towards him. Fire licking my skin from his touch, a slow burning heat in my belly…traveling lower…in between my thighs.
He stared at me for a long moment, his fingers fingering the edges of my nightgown. Then he looked away, his throat bobbing, and withdrew his hands. “I don’t think so, Miss Duvall.”
“Coward.”
