He plucked the last rose from the bouquet on his table, twirling it between his fingers as the maid hurried out with some vases. The bloom was perfect, just beginning to open. It reminded him of Iris herself.
“Keep fighting, Little Blossom,” he murmured to the empty room. “It will only make the surrender sweeter.”
CHAPTER 11
Blaise crawled up Iris’ long, languid body as she squirmed underneath him. Her body felt feverish against his, and her back arched as he felt her smooth legs wrap around his waist. She lifted her head and grazed his ear with her soft, inviting lips.
“Blaise.” Iris’s voice echoed as he awoke from the sweet dream.
He sat up sharply. The clock on the mantel showed it was barely half past six. He had slightly overslept because he was dreaming of her.
“Bloody hell,” he cursed lowly as he threw back the covers and rose.
Blaise moved with purpose, quickly pulling on a shirt and trousers. He crossed to the door and yanked it open, only to freeze at the sight before him.
The entire corridor outside his bedchamber was littered with flowers. Vases upon vases of the very same roses and daisies he had ordered removed from the study the day before now lined the floor in neat, mocking rows. Petals had been scattered like a bridal path leading straight to his door. The sweet scent assaulted him again.
Blaise’s jaw ticked violently. His scar pulled tight as his expression darkened.
“That bloody woman!” he growled under his breath.
“Your Grace?” Kennedy’s soft voice interrupted the silence.
“What is it, Kennedy?” Blaise asked him impatiently.
The young man cleared his throat and looked at him nervously. “Your breakfast is ready…”
Blaise groaned and cupped his face in frustration.
“Leave me be!” His voice boomed in the corridor, and he heard a clattering sound coming from Iris’s chamber.
The footman rushed off as Blaise strode toward the viscountess’s chamber. Without bothering to knock, he pushed the door open.
Iris stood near the center of the room in nothing but a thin, damp robe; her hair was loose and wet from a recent bath.Droplets of water still clung to her neck and collarbone, slowly soaking into the fabric. The robe clung scandalously to her full breasts and the curve of her hips, the wet material leaving almost nothing to the imagination. The outline of her body, her pert nipples hardened by the cool air, the soft swell of her stomach, and the shadow between her thighs were all clearly visible, and Blaise stood in awe of her.
“Blaise!” she gasped, spinning away from him. “What are you—? Get out!”
Blaise remained still, filling the doorway with his arms crossed over his broad chest as he took in her sight. Heat rushed through him, causing his manhood to press against his thigh.
“Iris,” he said, dangerously low as he shut the door behind him. “I am warning you to behave. And to make your servants behave as well!”
“I have done nothing! Now get out!” Her voice rose.
Blaise laughed humorlessly. “You have done nothing? And yet this morning I woke to find every damn flower I removed from my study now decorating the hallway outside my door like some deranged offering.”
Iris turned back toward him and lifted her chin, attempting to look composed despite the blush creeping up her neck and the way her fingers tightened on the edges of her robe.
God help me, she looks magnificent.
“I have no idea what you are talking about. The servants must have misunderstood your instructions again. And that is very unfortunate for you, as they are allyourservants.” Her innocent tone only fueled his irritation and his desire.
She was playing the perfect lady while she and her household waged war on him.
Blaise stepped up to her, and she slowly backed away until her legs hit the side of the bed. “You are pushing me, Little Blossom. I suggest you stop before I decide our month-long bargain begins today instead of in three weeks.”
Iris’s cheeks burned brighter, but she held her ground. “Everything is proceeding as agreed. The house is being renovated the wayyouwant. I will help you find a bride for your nephew. And at the end of the month…” Her voice faltered slightly.
Blaise’s dark eyes gleamed. He moved closer, deliberately crowding her space.
