Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
He smirks. ‘Lured, did I?’
‘Yes, lured.’ I face him, bold and unabashed. ‘Why else would you give a note to me if not to lure me?’
‘And why would I want to lure you, Miss Melrose?’
Good question! And my head is beginning to hurt as I try to unravel that mystery. Will I ever? He seems to see me as a plaything. Something to tease and have fun with. Something that amuses him. Naturally. I have never in my existence met such a challenging, unreasonable man! To be fair, until arriving in London, I had hardly met any men. Winters is a big enough dose to see me through to my deathbed, thank you very much.
‘Do you want to be lured?’
I snort. ‘Goodnight, Your Grace,’ I say, pulling the door open and marching through.
‘Perhaps if you stay, I could indulge you.’
My mouth falls open, but I refuse to turn back and allow him to see it. And how would he do that, I wonder? Indulge me? Pleasure me?
‘Cat got your tongue?’
I stop, my words all jumbled in my mouth, and I fight furiously to untangle them. It’s probably just as well I fail since none are very complimentary. I walk on.
‘Sleep well, Eliza,’ he calls, provoking a flurry of tingles to attack me again, just by my name, my real name, being spoken by him. Eliza. ‘Be sure to dream of me.’
‘I fear it will be more a nightmare, Johnny.’ I slam the door and stand stock still, breathing heavily, like I could have just cantered for miles through the countryside. If he will insist on addressing me by my name, he must expect the same from me, for we are equals.
Equally daring.
Equally electric.
And together, it would seem, equally dangerous.
I hurry through the gardens, outraged, irritated and infuriatingly enamoured, and make it to our house in no time at all. When I reach the door, I gaze at the shiny black wood for an age, vehemently trying to process the happenings of my visit with Winters. And how I wish I could return and re-experience such energy, for my heart is pumping wildly, my skin sizzling, and it is wholly addictive.
If I could be reassured that I might experience the thrill again, that would be infinitely appreciated. It would be something to anticipate in a world where nothing excites me. At least, nothing I have access to.
The prickles on my skin intensify somewhat rapidly, and I suspect it is not merely my thoughts instigating such an effect. Then I hear footsteps, and I know it to be true. My breath held, I peek over my shoulder. His green eyes shine bright in the darkness, and I turn, my back naturally pushing into the wood of the door. I find my eyes darting, checking we are alone. ‘Is there something I can help you with?’
As he steps closer, I notice a swirl of displeasure in those wonderfully green eyes of his. ‘Do me one kindness,’ he all but orders.
‘And what might that be?’
‘Under no circumstances must you venture out into the darkness alone again.’
‘Says who?’ My chin lifts in an act of false bravado, and I am not without the intelligence to see that it displeases him tremendously, which, frankly, I don’t particularly care for, despite suspecting I would probably do well to be considerate of his demeanour.
‘Says me,’ he grates, stepping forward while my eyes take a peek at his athletic frame, that is now, thankfully, fully covered appropriately, albeit rather haphazardly, the buttons of his jacket askew. He must have been in a hurry. ‘And no more shimmying up and down drainpipes.’
I gasp. He watched me? ‘You knew I was visiting?’ Has he been spying as I have? Why? I know my reasons – a very attractive story and mystery, something to get my teeth stuck into – but why would he have an equal fascination with me?
‘Yes, I knew.’
I motion up and down his body. ‘And you still didn’t bother to dress yourself?’
His lip curls. The nerve of this man! ‘Do not wander round alone in the darkness,’ he says again, and I conclude very quickly that it is because he knows not what else to say. Good. He is tongue-tied.
I snort, and it is wholly unattractive. If he did not yet believe I am no lady, then I expect he will now. ‘I believe you told me to expect no kindness or chivalry.’ I step forward, fuelled by the revelation that’s struck me, as his beautiful, rough square jaw pulses wildly. ‘Except you just escorted me home.’ My face is now close to his. So close, I can feel the heat of his breath. This is so utterly forbidden. Inappropriate. Wrong. Yet whatever we are to call it, I must confess it is rousing something odd inside me.
He knows not what to do with me as I stand before him, his tall body towering over me, stating facts that contradict his actions. I do believe I have rendered the wily Duke speechless. ‘Care to contest that, Your Grace?’ His eyes, oh how they burn. They burn with infuriation, for I have questioned his actions. And they burn with something else, something unfamiliar and yet riveting.