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When the heavy thumps restarted on the front door, Beatrice stopped suddenly in the hallway. Here she was, at twenty four years old; an owner of her own home, frightened into living behind locked doors by one rude, persistent, and vile little man. What chance would she have in life if she was ever challenged by something that threatened her? How would she fare, holding her own against spiteful gossips, if she was cowed by an ill-mannered oaf like Hargraves?
She had never shied away from anything in her life, yet here she was practically willing Ben to be there to act as a buffer between her and the unpleasant side of life. He had already done so much for her over the last few days; far more than even her uncle had ever bothered to do. Although Ben had said that he didn’t mind, she didn’t want to become the kind of woman who ran to the man in her life for answers and direction on how to live. This was her house; her home; and she had to be the one to defend it.
“I am independent woman,” she muttered aloud.
“Pardon?”
She turned to Maud. “Do you kn
ow what? I am sick of living behind locked doors because of that man. I am a grown up; a woman, and should be able to make my own decisions about what happens in my life. I should be able to walk around my own garden without the threat of him turning up to threaten me off. I have had enough of this.”
She marched toward the kitchen door with the determination of a general marching off to battle, only to turn around and retrace her steps back into the sitting room. The iron poker was heavy in her hand, but even that didn’t stop her from heading toward the back door, the knob of which was now rattling as Hargraves tried to get in.
“Beatrice? What are you doing?” Maud demanded as she hurried after her.
Beatrice ignored her. She slid the bolt back with a loud snap and yanked the door open with the same hand, while the other hand held the poker aloft. She stepped outside, and saw Hargraves’s eyes widen as she charged forward and almost walked into him. Given that he was in her way, she gave him one almighty push and watched him stumble backward with is eyes locked firmly on her weapon.
“Now, I have told you time and again that I do not have anything of yours,” she shouted as she stomped toward him. She had no idea where the raw fury came from but nothing, and nobody, was going to stop her now. The red mist of anger had descended from somewhere and would not be appeased until this man was out of her sight.
“You’ll listen to me,” Hargraves spat.
She swung the poker at him, and watched him stagger back several paces.
“’Ere, missus, I ain’t here for no trouble,” Hargraves snapped in a voice that was the complete opposite of the urbane gentleman he purported to be.
“You are nothing but trouble and should go back to the slums where you belong. I don’t know who paid you to get your hands on that plant but, whatever it was, it wasn’t enough to take me on I can assure you. If you think for one second that I am some helpless female you can bully then you can think again.” Her voice was as cold as an arctic frost.
She watched Hargraves’ mouth flap open and closed several times as though he was trying to say something but couldn’t get the words out past his fear.
“Keep walking,” Beatrice growled when he stumbled back several paces then stopped. When he hesitated, she swung the poker in a wild arch; mere inches from his chest. To her satisfaction, it was enough to propel him backward as instructed.
Hargraves looked down at the soot mark across his chest and took several more steps backward as he glanced around in search of an exit.
“Listen to me here and now. I do not have anything that belongs to anybody else. You have no business demanding anything from me, or trying to break into my home. Go back to your boss and tell him that if he wants something from me then he should get off his backside, and come and see me himself. If he isn’t prepared to do so, then I strongly recommend that you quit. I can assure you right now that if I see your face at my door again – or my window – I will personally drag your worthless carcass all the way to the police station. Do you hear me?” She knew she was shouting, but the ability to release the stress and fear she had felt over the last few days was immensely satisfying.
For one brief moment she thought that Hargraves was going to challenge her but, when she lifted the poker again, he flicked one startled look at Maud, who stood several feet behind her armed with an iron skillet and, within seconds, was gone.
She spun around when someone started to clap, and lowered her poker arm when she saw Ben grinning at her.
“Christ, you are feisty,” he drawled and threw Maud a look that told her to make herself scarce. “Remind me never to get you angry at me.” He eyed the iron poker in consideration. “Is that always your weapon of choice, or do you usually go for random objects around the house?”
In spite of her temper, Beatrice felt her lips start to twitch, but she made no attempt to apologise for her behaviour.
“He makes me so mad. He was trying to open the door when we wouldn’t answer it. He just doesn’t get the hint.” As she spoke her voice grew quieter. By the time she lapsed into silence, she took a deep breath and felt the last of her anger fade.
“You are fierce,” Ben murmured gently before he caught her lips in a kiss that robbed her of all sense and reason.
The kiss they had shared before he had left last night had seared her to her soul. It had claimed and possessed her, and rendered her speechless. This morning though, their embrace was driven by an entirely different sensuality. As soon as his lips touched hers, passion flared to life and swept them along on a tide of desire that neither of them could ignore. He captured the back of her head with one large hand and held her still while he deepened the embrace. However, this was Beatrice, who wasn’t prepared to be docile and complaint.
He groaned when she grasped his jacket with tight fingers and drew him even closer, and it fuelled this new side of her which refused to be supplicant. She copied his movements and returned the force of his kiss with equal ardour at the same time that she slid her fingers into his hair and tugged him even closer. His height meant that she had to stand on tip-toe, but even that small movement drew her tighter against him and brought her lush curves into contact with his solid masculinity perfectly. He held her steady with one long arm around her waist and backed her up several paces until her back was to the wall of the house. Once she was held firm, he captured her face in both hands and gave himself over to desire.
“God, Beatrice,” Ben growled as he placed random kisses down her neck.
The sudden slam of the kitchen door was enough to warn him that this was hardly the place to do the kind of things his body demanded, but he knew that as soon as the opportunity arose, they were going to take this mutual desire as far as it could go. He had never felt this kind of passion with any woman before. This burning desire to consume and plunder was something new to him, and intensely addictive.
It went a long way toward convincing him that she was indeed the woman for him.
He tried to draw back, he really did. He even got as far as to lift his head, but the slumberous look in her eyes when he looked down at her left him helpless to find any objection when she reached up and recaptured his lips with hers. She copied his every movement, right down to the letter, but her actions were tinged with the slightest hint of innocent curiosity that nearly unmanned him. Even the growl he couldn’t withhold seemed to encourage her.
