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Aware that the man standing in the door would just turn his back should he decide to have this woman on her table, he forced himself to remain where he was. Away from her.
She didn’t rush him, just watched as if she wanted him anywhere but there as she waited for him to get off his chest what he’d come here to say. Fyre had her head bowed, eyes down, and her hands clasped before her.
Not the woman he’d come to know.
“It is not easy for me to apologize.”
“Then do not, for I am sure it will be such a strain on you. Good day, my lord.”
The snark falling from her mouth sent the blood straight to his cock, making it thicken in its confines.
She is still in there, the woman I want. And she was, he just had to coax her out once more, and this time make sure she didn’t go back into hiding.
“Look at me.” He commanded her to do this, not wanting to give her another choice.
Her head rose so slowly he was across the room and in her space by the time it had been accomplished. The vulnerability in her brown eyes was a kick to the groin, taking his air and making his knees wobble.
Going against the small bit of sanity in his head, he reached out to touch her, not knowing if he would be able to stop with a single brush.
Fyre stared at the man before her, whose hand currently stroked the side of her cheek. A light brush but one she felt all the way to her core. She didn’t have a clue why he was here.
Torn between pulling away and allowing the contact, she stayed, desperate for the tiny crumb he threw her. Behind him she could see the thin silhouette of his footman waiting in the doorway. The open doorway.
“I want you to work for me.”
“I do work for you.”
She moved back a single step. His eyes narrowed and a muscle clenched in his jaw but he didn’t encroach on her again.
“You work in several different places.”
Fyre waited. She knew that. What she didn’t get, yet, was his reasoning for bringing this up to her.
“This is too much.”
“Many of my people work more than one place.”
He thought about her words before he exhaled sharply. “My people do not.”
She struggled not to roll her eyes. Do his people even work?
Phillip shifted again and she found before she blinked he was right back in her space, his scent surrounding her. Not that it had left her alone, because it hadn’t. Since the moment he’d set foot in her place it had wrapped her up like a blanket, heating her in ways she wasn’t sure she was ready to comprehend.
“Do you know why I am telling you this?”
“No, my lord.”
“God, what I would not give to hear you call me Phillip.” His statement slipped from his mouth so low she nearly missed it. In a louder tone, he said, “Because you are one of mine.”
“I am not a possession.” The words were hot and rushed as she spat them in his direction.
If she shocked him, he didn’t show it. Instead, his lips turned up in a grin that melted her undergarments, making her wet and desperate for his touch between her legs.
“I want to keep you, Fyre. All to myself.” His gaze smoldered as she shivered from his intense look.
“There are islands around that still allow slavery. Perhaps you should sell your plantation and move to one of those.”
He walked around her, touching the nape of her neck in a possessive caress before continuing to look at her small kitchen. Phillip was silent until he came back to stand near her, pushing his presence into her space.
She nearly pulled away so he couldn’t feel the scarring on her neck, but couldn’t find a way to move out of his intoxicating hold.
“I did not say I wanted to own you. I want to keep you.” He stood in front of her again, demanding her focus. “Naked and in my bed.”
Her knees wobbled.
His grin was sinful. “I want to strip your clothes off you and lick you from head to toe. I dream about how you taste and how beautiful you will be as you shatter beneath my touch.”
She whimpered.
He touched a curl and tugged on it. She felt the answering pull in her core.
“I lied though. I do want to own part of you. Your heart.”
He bent and brushed his mouth over hers, stunning her with the action. By the time she’d recovered, he was already walking out her door with a pastry in each hand. He passed one off to the footman and called out, “Get rid of the other jobs, Fyre. I will cover the difference.”
She was alone in her small home, Phillip’s scent still strong in her nose. Wobbling, she made her way to the table and sat, trying to piece together what just happened. With a nervous hand, she touched her lips and closed her eyes.
