There’s a shimmer of amusement in his eyes. ‘I’ll only be gone a couple of days. I’ll be back by the weekend. We have plans.’
‘We do?’
‘Yes. It’s Opening Meet of the season on Saturday. I thought you’d come with me.’
‘Opening Meet?’
‘Fox hunting.’
‘Like the fox hunting that’s banned?’
‘Hmm, not exactly. There’re rules around leaving fake scent, rather than chasing real foxes, but people still hunt.’
‘So you ride horses?’
‘I rideahorse. Yes.’
My mind floods with images of Mr Darcy and white knights, except it’s Gregory’s toned pecs beneath the see-through, wet shirt.
‘You’ll come.’
I bite my gums. ‘That’s not a question.’
‘You’re very observant, Miss Heath. You’ll need a dinner dress and some country clothes.’
‘Country clothes?’
‘Yes. I’ve already arranged for you to see Julia on Thursday evening. She’ll find you something appropriate.’
I sigh, more huffily than I really intend. ‘I can pick my own clothes, Gregory, and I don’t need your Harrods stylist to force unnecessarily expensive brands on me.’
‘Fine.’
‘Fine?’Surely I didn’t just get my own way.
‘I’ll make sure she doesn’t tell you the price or brand name of any item.’ There’s an unmistakeable and frankly irritating arrogance about him.
‘I have clothes. You can’t buy me something new every time we go out together.’
‘Why not?’
Urgh!‘You infuriate me.’
‘And your attempt at defiance rather infuriates me,’ he muses, forming a steeple with his fingers. ‘In fact, I think I ought to take you home right now and teach you a lesson.’
My eyes blink in shock but my heart rate increases at the thought of him spanking me. The feeling of sinful pleasure that only Gregory has ever shown me. ‘I can’t finish for the day; I have work to do and chargeable hours targets to meet.’
The roll of his jaw tells me he’s as tightly wound as I am.
‘I wonder if you’ll ever do as I ask without pushing all my buttons first.’
‘Unlikely.’ I close my notebook. ‘Unless you give me an incentive.’
‘What happens if I do?’
My thighs pulse in response to him. I glance down, expecting to see the throbbing of blood pumping to my sex. My nipples harden against the lace of my bra.
A low, rumbling growl leaves his chest. ‘Fuck your targets.’ He charges towards me and attacks my mouth with his, pulling me up to stand.
