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Thankfully, she still looked as put-together as when she had entered this room. Not by choice, but the earl seemed to have a much better sense of preservation than she did. And she was grateful for that.
The glare Caulfield shot her let her know he was still livid that she had dropped him as a client. It hadn’t just been him, but he had taken it that way.
“Thank you, Miss Parker,” Phillip said, even as he walked to the door with Keating. “Lock up behind you, please.”
“Of course, my lord. I will not be much longer.”
“Good, join us when you finish here.”
The door closed on those staring in and she released a sigh of relief. All she waited for was the ink to dry, then she closed the book and returned it to its spot. After making sure Phillip’s desk was spotless, she walked to the door and stepped out before turning back and locking it behind her.
Mr. Caulfield met her just outside the entrance to the parlor.
“Might I have a word, Miss Parker?”
She didn’t want to be alone with him but it would be rude to walk away. “Of course. Perhaps you could escort me to the drinks?”
That way he could say whatever was on his mind but her aversion to being alone with this man would be assuaged because they would be in a room with others.
“I was hoping to do so in private.”
“We are in private right now, Mr. Caulfield.”
His thin lips flattened more.
Keating walked into view, two footmen behind him, Davie one of them.
“Everything okay, Mr. Caulfield? Miss Parker?”
She had never thought she would be grateful to see Keating.
“Yes, Mr. Keating, thank you. Mr. Caulfield was just escorting me to the parlor.” She swallowed back her aversion and slipped her arm through his to keep him from lashing out at the servants.
Phillip’s gaze lasered onto the way their bodies touched the moment they entered the room. But he held his tongue and continued his conversation with those around him.
“We need to talk about you still working for the earl. Your brother promised you to me and I will not let him out of that.”
Her stomach plummeted at his words and it was a struggle to keep the panic from showing as she mingled the rest of the evening. Especially when all she wanted to do was crawl into the soft bed waiting for her.
Chapter Nineteen
Phillip stood in the shadows and watched her get ready for bed. He didn’t give a damn that he was being a voyeur as this was the woman he planned on marrying, which would give him that right for the rest of their lives.
She rubbed some sort of cream on her neck, over the scars there, and the one on her chest. Then she worked it into her legs and the rest of her body. His cock was painfully hard as he watched her stand there, wearing nothing more than a shift, one leg braced on the stool as she smoothed the cream down the toned muscles. Then she switched and killed him all over again doing it to the other leg.
After she had finished that, she took a seat once more and brushed out her hair before braiding it and allowing the thick rope to hang over the side with the scarring on her neck.
“Are you expecting to meet someone later?” He stepped into view. “Is that what this entire sexy process is for?”
She didn’t jump, just met his gaze in the mirror. “This is my nightly routine, my lord. Perhaps I should be wondering why you are in my room yet again.”
He prowled over the floor to stand behind her. “You know why I am here, Fyre.” Bending at the waist, he sniffed her, and his body reacted. Somehow hardening even more.
How the hell does she smell so good? What was that she put on?
The only sign of her nervousness was the tremble of her fingers as she finished tying the ribbon at the end of her hair.
“I have had this dream since I met you, so I am not sure this is not just another of those.”
His heart thumped in his chest.
“How do I prove that I am not a dream, but flesh and blood?”
She spun around on the seat, facing him directly. “Touch me.”
“That is not going to be a problem. But surely there is something else, because I refuse to think my dreamself is stupid enough not to touch you every fucking chance I get.”
Her smile weakened his knees.
“Make me yours, Phillip.”
His control snapped and he hauled her up into his arms, slamming his mouth over hers like a possessed man. Which he was, in a sense. She had bewitched him from the word go.
Her moan poured into him and he slid his hands around to cup her ass, encouraging her to jump up, and she listened, wrapping her legs around his waist. His cock nestled perfectly against her core had them both humming in pleasure.
