For God’s sakes, get a hold of yourself, man. He was a gentleman, not a caveman.
“Excuse me, have we met before?” He inwardly winced at how lame his question sounded, and yet it was the truth. He did wonder if they’d met before.
Her eyes widened even more, if that were possible, and her gazeskittered away as her hand fluttered to her chest demurely.
God, I’m such a big oaf.No wonder she looked like a deer caught in a trap. She was an innocent, and here he was looming over her, with the even bigger Titan standing behind him. The poor girl no doubt felt attacked or at least cornered.
“I don’t believe so, unless you hail from Northumberland,” she said in a soft, husky voice.
That voice. How would it sound in the middle of the night as she lay among the rumpled sheets of his bed after he’d taken her to the heights of pleasure, his girth nestled between her thighs…
“No, I am from Essex. It’s uncanny, though. You seem so familiar to me.”
“Perhaps I have a common face.”
He chuckled. “No, there is nothing common about you.”
An adorable blush heated her creamy complexion. And he yearned to see where else he could make her blush.
“Well then, I must be on my way. Good day, sir.”
She turned to continue down the hall, and the thought of never seeing her again made his heart wrench.
“Was that your mother with Mrs. Dove-Lyon?” he blurted. Keeping her for as long as he could in this hallway was all he could think about. His inappropriate visions continued to assail him in the most sensual extremes.
Am I going mad?
She stopped and turned again toward him, but her gaze did not meet his, no doubt due to her shyness. “She is my grandmother,” she replied in a soft voice.
“Well, I hope we shall meet again, m’lady, both you and your grandmother.”
“I don’t see how that is possible, but life is often filled with surprises.” Color infused her cheeks once more, and he felt the seam of his trousers stretch even further.
Titan cleared his throat behind them.
“I bid you good day, m’lady,” Lex said as Titan gestured for him to continue down the hall.
She gave a quick nod and a fleeting smile, and like a wisp of wind through the trees, she disappeared around the corner.
Lex continued down the hall toward Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s office with the reluctance of a man taking his final walk to the hangman’s noose.
His world was once more shadowed by darkness, his worries for the future taking precedence over his brief encounter with the stunning young woman. But a yearning had taken hold within him, and a fire had settled in his core. There would be no possibility of relief until he found out who she was and why she was there.
Given his own circumstances, he imagined there was a reasonable explanation for her as well. Otherwise, his life had taken another wild turn. In the span of two days, he’d met two women who had completely captivated him. And to have this happen at the same time as he was seeking a wife with a dowry only added to the complication of his life. And to his inner turmoil.
Here he was searching—albeit reluctantly—for a bride with deep coffers, and instead he’d met a highwaywoman with warm brown eyes who, while speaking and holding herself as though she were born into a gentleman’s family, was robbing travelers at gunpoint along the various highways and byways that led to London.
And just now he’d met a red-headed beauty who could very well be an heiress who had fallen from grace—something he could not comprehend, given how demure she was. Perhaps her tarnished reputation was due to a black-sheep family member. Or she could be a young woman of gentile background who was facing ruin and was here to seek a wealthy husband…
Damn and blast!What the hell was happening to his life?
As his heartbeat returned to normal, the fog that clouded his thinking began to recede, and he could see a more hopeful possibility. If thered-headed beauty was here with her grandmother, perhaps shewasone of the wealthy, slightly wilted flowers for whom the matchmaker had been hired to find a husband. The kind of woman that Basil had told him about.
A sliver of hope began to burn inside of him. Could she be his deliverance? Was it possible he’d found more than a fount of coin, but a woman who could ignite his passion and give meaning to his existence? And whom he could spend his life igniting her passion in kind?
And while he was equally enthralled by the highwaywoman, he could not have both. At the moment, he’d been given a chance at plucking a rose who could very well change his life in more ways than one. A woman whom he could awaken to the pleasures of his bed. A woman whom he could make blossom and thrive…
His meeting with Mrs. Dove-Lyon was suddenly no longer a cross to bear but an appointment that might bring him everything he sought.
