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Her hand fluttered to her neck ever so briefly.
“It is not very gentlemanly to point out the scars on a woman’s neck, not even if one is an earl.”
Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but grin at the primness in her tone. This woman had an uncanny way of soothing the anger within him, using nothing more than a few words and the barest of smiles.
“We both know,” he muttered, “I am no gentleman. I work at it for one reason only, Fyre.”
She glanced at him, the question blatant in her gaze. He dug the fingers of his hand into his palm to keep from reaching out and cupping her cheek. They’d stopped walking.
“You, Fyre. You are the reason I try. But do not make the mistake of thinking I am a gentleman.”
The tiniest smile turned up her lips and his heart cavorted within his chest.
“I think you are far more of one than you want to admit to yourself. But thank you for trying.”
He stopped and so did she. “Do you know how badly I want to kiss you right now? How much I long to pick you up and back you into the post there, using it to push us together? I am no gentleman.”
“Yet you are telling me what you want to do instead of doing it. That, to me, is the mark of a gentleman.”
Damn her.
“Would you let me?” Gods, he wanted to move closer to her. “Would you let me kiss you in town? Would you let me do that to you?”
Her fingers danced over her skin once more, enticing him all over again. “I think, my lord, that once again, our discussion is not appropriate. However, I will say this—I believe any woman who is worth your love and affection would jump at the chance to be touched and kissed by you often. Regardless of the place it happened. If you will excuse me, my lord. I need to get home.”
She was gone, leaving him alone with his horse in the middle of a town that hadn’t quite found its place in the world yet. His body was so hard for her it ached. Ignoring the current state of his cock, he swung up in the saddle and turned his horse back in the direction they’d just walked from.
He wanted nothing more than to follow her, put her on his horse with him and ride out to his lake. That was it.
I will take her on a picnic.
He remembered Lucien and Ciara doing those and enjoying them. Fyre would as well.
I hope.
Finishing up in town, he was still pissed at the reminder that he hadn’t learned what had happened to her or who it was that had put the marks on her neck. Fyre was so good at distracting him. Although he had a very good idea who the culprit was.
And it was his responsibility to make sure it would never happen again.
* * * *
Fyre stared at her reflection as she rubbed the cream Marta had given her into the marks still standing out against her darker skin. The woman had been the one to find her and knew who had done it because Fyre had broken down in her arms.
All day she could feel people looking at her, and she’d tried to keep her neck covered as much as possible. Albie had not said a word, but Phillip, he’d known. Somehow that man, the earl who by every single account should be off limits to even her thoughts, he’d known.
And had been pissed on her behalf.
But then, that man always looked at her like she mattered. To him. Scowling at herself, she closed down that line of thought. It wasn’t one she should be following.
She still shook as she fixed herself something to eat. After she’d eaten, she set about cleaning up and thought about the current state of her life. Something had to give, and if things were any indication, she would end up being the one who had to give all.
I do not want to have to do that.
A firm rapping on the door dragged her from her thoughts. Clutching her scarf tighter around her neck, she went to the door, hesitated and hated herself for it before she pulled it open.
Phillip stood there. Larger than life and everything her mind created for her when she thought about what made her happy, and what kind of man she would like to spend her days with. His expression was hard, unforgiving, but his eyes, they told her a completely different story.
He was concerned for her.
“I was just thinking about you.” Fyre blushed as the words slipped free. How she longed to be able to take them back.
One eyebrow rose and the side of his mouth twitched up as his eyes heated.
Determined not to look away from him, she cleared her throat. “Lord Edais, how may I be of assistance?”
