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There were two enormous, polished-wood front doors, one with a large brass knocker shaped like a magnolia blossom.
He opened one door for her, and about three feet beyond was a second set.
“Typical of these houses”—Rafe explained—“to protect against storms. The floor is original. Imported from Italy, I’m told. The Kirbys enjoyed traveling and bringing back treasures with them.”
The tiny tiles were well-worn, making her marvel at the history.
Rafe pulled the door shut behind him, but instead of continuing into the house, he backed her against one of the walls. In the dark, small space, her breath shortened. This was the Rafe she expected and knew. The one who terrified her. The one who thrilled her enough to take unimaginable risks.
“I’ll welcome you properly at our cottage. But this will have to hold you.” When he was like this, all Dominant and determined, it spiked a potent headiness inside her, spiking her pheromones.
He kissed her.
Not that what he did could be described as a kiss.
He took and consumed, hot and determined, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, not coaxing, but demanding her submission.
She offered it, not that she had a choice, not that she’d ever had a real choice since he walked into her office to teach her about sadism. In a relationship, Hope was beta to his alpha.
He fucked her mouth with his tongue, rocking her so hard that it took all her concentration to hold on to the handle of her purse.
When he pulled away, there was both promise and threat in his expression. She had a vague sense of disappointment that it had ended so fast.
“Shall we?”
Before she nodded, she needed a moment to take a deep breath. She didn’t want to walk in disheveled, like a woman who’d been ravaged in the entryway.
He tucked in hair he’d dislodged. “Oh, sweet, sweet Hope. Soon. Fucking soon.”
Once she was in control again, or as much as she could be, she nodded. He opened the door and she took a step inside, then stopped to stare at the opulence. “Oh my God. This was all Julie’s design?”
“All of it. I understand the architect took a year off after finishing this. Widely regarded as his finest work, however.”
Inlaid parquet flooring appeared original and unblemished by the centuries. Instead of a single staircase, there were two, each leading to the second story. They flared out, curving away from each other. Banisters were crafted from hand-hewn wood that gleamed in the light from the magnificent chandelier.
“The Julie staircase is what we call it. Lends itself to weddings and receptions, doesn’t it?”
“It’s fit for heads of state. Princes and princesses.”
“The Kirbys entertained often. There were grand coming-out parties for their daughters, held in the ballroom. It has a conservatory where the band would set up. We grow plants in it still.”
“I’m overwhelmed.”
“I wanted you to see the entire grandeur, which was why I wanted you to come in the front door.”
“And I thought it was because you wanted to kiss me.”
“That might have been part of my plan.” He grinned before pointing to the top of the staircases. “The balcony was also Julie’s idea.”
It protruded in a semicircle, reminding Hope a little of box seats at the theater.
“Rumor has it that Mrs. Kirby would stand there when someone came to the door. She could come down if she was interested in receiving the visitor. She had an art studio on the third floor, so it’s possible, but I’d think she spent her waking hours in the main part of the house. Makes for a good story, however. I’m inclined to believe the family used it when they had soirees. Imagine looking down at your guests and having them aware of your presence.”
“Like royalty.”
“Indeed. We still use it for some formal occasions. The chairperson gets the place of honor.”
Toward the back of the main entryway was a gorgeous bar with a large mirror hanging behind it. From the wavy texture and silvered glass, it might have been original to the house. Numerous shelves were stocked with premium liquors.
One of the tables was occupied. A man and woman stood near a wall, wearing suits, and if she wasn’t mistaken, earpieces. Bodyguards? Or Secret Service? She didn’t recognize the one person she could see, but he was seated with a person who appeared to be a woman, though she was shadowed by a huge potted hibiscus. Hope thought she recognized the long blonde hair, though.
