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Andromeda was very certain of his dislike, evident from the lack of concern she showed at his nearness. She was a small hare being circled by a wolf, convinced the wolf preferred lamb.
“You stalked away from our game,” he said in a low voice, marveling at the gold flecks swimming in her eyes, “before I could even declare what I wish from you. There’s nothing wrong with the green,” he continued, watching the way the gold flecks sparked as her temper flared. “I think you are only a poor sport.”
“I am not usually, Your Grace. But you deliberately stacked the odds in your favor by your omission.”
Burnished leather.That was the color of her hair.
“Your Grace, I cannot live with myself knowing I am the cause of your tailor’s unwelcome banishment. He was an elderly man. Surely you could have been kinder in your dismissal.”
Blythe deserved to be strangled for telling her such a thing.
“I understand why you felt it necessary to send him away,” she continued in a worried voice. “I’m sure you were distressed to find that your attire was not as impeccable as you wished it to be. Given your exacting nature.” The last bit was said with no small amount of sarcasm.
David did demand perfection from his valet and his servants. It was habit. Something which his father had ingrained in him from the time he was a child. But he hadn’t with Silas.
“He likely served your family faithfully for many years.”
“He did,” David answered, not wanting to discuss the tailor. He was far more interested in nuzzling the slope of Andromeda’s neck.
“Please, Your Grace,” she implored him.
Oh, how David wished to please her, not just in the matter of the tailor, but in all things. Pleasure her. With his hands. His cock. His mouth.
“I would like to make sure he is well taken care of. I have an acquaintance who owns a dress shop. She had been thinking of making shirts for gentlemen. Perhaps—”
“Stop.”
Silas had been going blind for years, and though David had known the tailor his entire life, the man had been too afraid to tell him.
Because Horacewouldhave tossed him out.
David had not. He had pretended not to notice his tailor’s increasing infirmity or the damage to his wardrobe. It wasn’t until Andromeda had insulted the length of his coat that David had realized he must do something about Silas. The old man’s lips had quivered as he'd explained to David how he could no longer see to sew or measure properly. He hadn’t been dismissed but pensioned off as a loyal retainer should be. Silas had wept tears of joy as his daughter had come to collect him. It was a kindness David had felt compelled to offer the man who’d secretly taught him how to fish.
David wasn’t his father. Not entirely. Not yet.
“A pity you didn’t win.” His fingers touched the edge of her dress, rubbing his finger over the fabric. Sliding his finger beneath the edge.
“But you did cheat. I am owed my forfeit,” she insisted.
“Yes,” he admitted, watching her eyes narrow into slits, her determination to save Silas nearly breaking what he thought might be his heart. Andromeda possessed such passion for others. David only wanted some of it for himself.
“It’s very honorable of you to wish to care for someone you don’t know,” he said. A lovely pressure started over his chest, like fingertips pressing against the folds of his heart. He wanted to curl himself around her. Inhale her. Bury himself in her. The longer he was with her, the more intense the feeling became.
I’ve gone mad.
“Will you promise to care for Silas properly?” she asked. “Or at least allow me to do so?”
Andromeda Barrington was dangerous to him in ways she couldn’t possibly fathom. His lust for her made his entire body ache, but it was what else he longed for that left him bruised and unsure as how to proceed.
I’m to marry Beatrice. I’ve decided. She’s perfectly suitable.
“I vow to ensure he lacks for nothing again,” David finally said, determined to keep the truth from her until he collected his wager. It was why he’d not told her about the incline of the green. Why he’d allowed her to challenge him to begin with. “But you must honor our wager in return.”
He was that much of a monster—at least where Andromeda was concerned.
She didn’t want to. He could see it in her face. But her need to ensure the welfare of Silas was far stronger. “Very well. I already know what you will ask for.”
“You do?” That surprised him.
