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Hot, urgent desire stirred inside at the mere thought of her and the realization touched a raw nerve. Surging to his feet, ignoring his dogs’ howls for him to continue playing with them, he walked to the edge of the incline overlooking the rolling hills and ravine of his lands. There he stood, the wind at his back, tugging at the simple white shirt he had donned with his breeches and top boots this morning.
He tilted his head to
the heavens, breathing in the crisp fresh air, trying to clear the vexing woman from his thoughts. Then he felt it. Eyes were on him, piercing and intent. He held himself still, absorbing the sensation of being watched and instinctively knowing such a bold regard belonged to Lady Olivia. Without glancing about, Tobias could tell she was studying him…avidly. Her stare strolled and kissed over his skin like a silken caress. A grim smile curled Tobias’s lips. The knowledge that she was just as attracted to him was unaccountably appealing. Why?
He turned his head left and spied her sitting under his favorite cypress tree, her light pink dress billowing across her ankles. She had a sketchpad gripped in her hands, her cheeks and chin were smudged with paint, and her glorious hair tumbled in loose waves around her shoulders. He suddenly wished his hands were buried in her tangled, silken mess. At that realization, he returned her regard, causing her eyes to widen and a flush to work its way up to her cheeks. There was something charming about her when she was flustered.
Temptation tugged at him with relentless force. Clenching his teeth until they ached, he urged himself to look away without acknowledging her presence. He’d left their guests playing charades in the parlor; he should have known Lady Olivia would flee such merriment to bury herself deeper in the countryside. His mother complained incessantly that Lady Olivia was fast and scandalous, despite possessing a comely figure and keen intellect. It was a great pity, according to his mother, that she was not more docile. An assessment he had instinctively rejected. This morning, Lady Olivia had fenced and had soundly thrashed Lord Muir, who had not realized his opponent was a woman until she tugged off the mask. The gasps and outraged whispers were multiple—they had spread through the house at alarming speed. Yet instead of being annoyed…Tobias had been amused at her mettle and had admired her skill, perhaps he had even felt some admiration for the lady herself.
Anger snapped though him at that very unwelcome thought. It was only last week that she had been outrageous enough to dare place slugs between his sheets. Since then, every damn night he had dreamed about drawing the minx underneath him, parting her legs and feasting on her wetness, then sinking his cock deep and thrusting into her repeatedly for hours on end.
He needed to escape the estate and her tempting presence. God’s blood, he didn’t even like her. His desire for her had made him curt to the point of shocking churlishness. Olivia, instead of quivering like many who had experienced a whiff of his displeasure, had traded with him blow for blow. It was unusual for him to appreciate her fieriness. Though it could have been because Lady Willa was underfoot, since that young lady seemed to agree with everything he said. It was as if she had no original thoughts of her own, despite the keen, devious intelligence he could see in her gaze at times.
He had to leave before he did something stupid like stroll over to Olivia now and sit beside her. Then take her lips between his teeth, letting his tongue tease her into opening her mouth. She had the most intriguing mouth he’d ever seen and never had he wanted to kiss a lady as much as he did Olivia. With a soft growl under his breath, and with a sharp command to his dogs, he spun and retreated in desperation back to the main house.
He would leave tonight. There was not a moment to delay. He must go before he went insane.
…
Tobias recognized it was time to admit defeat. Lady Arabella’s inviting stares held no appeal. His thoughts were miles away. She had been trying to entice him upstairs to her bed for the past few hours to no avail. They had been lovers for almost two years, and his desire for her had been waning for some time now.
No….it had been waning since I first met Lady Olivia.
He had ridden from Grangeville Park and headed straight to Arabella…and even at such a distance, the infuriating female was preventing him from indulging in his pleasures. He’d truly believed a night with his mistress would cure him of this unrelenting ache he had for the hoyden. How woefully wrong he had been. He’d been unable to even kiss Arabella.
He swallowed the last of his brandy and placed the glass on the center table in the parlor and stood. “I am leaving.”
His lover pouted, her calculating eyes tracked his movements. “Have you found someone else?” she asked from her reclining position on the chaise lounge.
“No.”
“You seem a touch restless, Tobias.” Arabella shifted, and draped herself on the cushions so she was provocatively posed, the silk peignoir cut low where her breasts were displayed to their best advantage.
She meant to beguile him, but he felt nothing. It was alarming the degree to which Lady Olivia entranced him, which had him so on edge. “I intend to return to Derbyshire.”
Arabella stiffened. “So soon, darling? You’ve only just arrived in town.”
“Duty calls,” he said, shrugging into his superfine coat without assistance.
For a brief instance, anger flashed across her face, before she buried it underneath false charm. “I so miss you when you leave.” She cleared her throat delicately. “My good friend, Lady Bartley, received an invitation to your mother’s very exclusive and much sought after house party.”
He glanced at her. “And?”
A flush climbed her face. “I…I would like an invitation, if you would be so kind.”
“No,” he said bluntly. His mother had already cornered him and asked if there was any truth to the rumor he and the widow of the late Viscount Trotman were lovers. Tobias had been disgusted with the ease at which the rumor mongrels thought to discuss his private life with his mother. She, of course, had been warning him to stay away from Arabella’s bed, for all of London knew she was seeking her third husband to support her own extravagant lifestyle. Tobias had shook his head and simply changed the topic, much to his mother’s frustration. She had then attempted to throw one of her fits, even crying a few tears, to which he had been coldly immune. Then she had taken to her rooms for the rest of the afternoon. Nothing unusual—he was familiar with such pathetic attempts at manipulation. Tobias acknowledged, however, how important society’s views and expectations were to her, so he would not invite his mistress to his estate while his mother, sister, and the scheming Lady Willa were in residence.
“Why, my darling?” she asked, pouting.
“I am quite certain we had this conversation last week, and we will not have it again,” Tobias said flatly. Arabella was a good sport, and he enjoyed their talks of politics as much as when he conversed with any man. She was learned, witty, and beautiful, but he would not allow her to manipulate him.
“Why not?” Pique filled her tone. “I shall write to your mother and introduce myself as your dearest friend and—”
Icy displeasure filled him, and he did nothing to suppress the emotions surging through his veins. He met her eyes and she faltered. Arabella suddenly found uncommon interest in the armrest of the chaise lounge, and Tobias sighed. He did not like the idea of any woman being wary of him. “There is no need to shy from me, Arabella.”
She glanced up. “Your anger is…very alarming, Tobias.”
“I am not angry.”
