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Philip didn’t know if he felt more enraged, surprised or confused. Rage prevailed. The elusive witch!
“No, she hadn’t.” He answered casually. “Thank you, Jenkins.” The butler bowed and continued on his way.
The carriage ride took six hours to Brighton. She might have arrived, the stubborn witch! What was she afraid of, damn it?
He climbed the stairs two at a time, rang for his valet and gave instructions for a valise and his horse to be saddled. Her lady’s maid had remained in the house, his valet informed him.
The Duke of Crompton was seen riding his stallion at breakneck speed towards south, a grim expression on his clove eyes.
Philip’s thoughts rounded in a whirlwind, faster than his horse. Anger, frustration and desire battled with confusion, working him up in a state of restlessness and blotted reason that even the speed didn’t make subside. The early spring view of the roads passed blindly by his eyes. He saw red, the thrill of the chase flaring in him. The woman knew how to keep him coming for more, he’d give her this.
Stopping only to refresh his horse, he made it to Brighton in five hours.
The view of the manor had always made him feel relaxed, but this time he didn’t even notice the huge construction in classical style, surrounded by gardens and woods. He dismounted hastily and left his horse to be tended. The twilight tinted the walls a shade of purple.
The butler opened the front door. Philip entered in rushy paces, took off his hat and coat, giving them to the other man.
“Where is she?” He asked curtly.
“In the study, Your Grace.”
He strode resolute, his eyes fixed blink-less as if on a target, his face a marble mask. Stopping by the door, he gyrated the door-handle and entered abruptly. Of course, he could do it; he owned the house!
She sat on the desk, an account book in front of her. She lifted her head and her eyes widened on him.
Chapter 9
Selene’s heart jumped and raced at the gorgeous sight of him. Couldn’t the blasted devil leave her alone, for pity’s sake!
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked a husky note in his voice.
“Rather obvious, isn’t it?” She pointed to the book. She’d come to the study after dinner to do something to avert her thoughts from him.
“You know what I mean.” He closed the door. “You ran!”
“I didn’t run.” Her both hands on the desk, motionless. The effect he had on her froze her on the spot. “I just needed some fresh air.”
“St James’s Park has plenty of it.” He paced to the desk.
Her dark-blue dress didn’t have so demure a neckline. His eyes descended to it, taking in her creamy skin. It felt like his fingers grazed her collarbones. She flushed, her eyes dilated. Would this…impropriety never go away?
“A change of scenery did me good too.” She tried to keep her tone steady. Difficult, with his eyes inspecting her so openly.
She watched him rolling up his sleeves, as the fire was high in the fireplace. Then he begun undoing his cravat.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked at such unusual action. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his shirt opening.
“Rather obvious, isn’t it?” He devolved her own earlier answer, eyes craved on her.
The cravat gone, she could see the top of his broad chest through the top opening. She gulped in air, not from embarrassment, but from the need to touch the smooth skin, peppered with black hair.
“The study is the lord’s domain, so I’ll leave you to it.” She rose and started to the door.
He posted himself before her. “Not so fast.” His arm snaked around her slim waist and glued her to his body. “I told you, I’m the predator.” His stare descended to her lush mouth. “And you’ve just become my pray.” He husked.
Her hands on his strong shoulders, her eyes mesmerized on him, liquid fire coursing through her. She was lost! Oh, she didn’t want to find herself. Ever again.
Then his mouth ravened hers. After that, nothing else mattered.
