If anyone else had said such a thing she probably would have worried for her life. But as awful as Alexander had been over the years, she’d never actually feared him. Rather than make her afraid, therefore, his words made her positively combust.
Stop it, Olivia,she scolded herself,remember how he has tormented you.
Deciding to ignore his words, because really, what sort of answer could she give to that, she focused instead on the reasons for his shadowing her.
“Why did you follow me?” she demanded.
“Perhaps I’m hoping for a repeat of the last time we were alone.”
His words, spoken so softly, had the effect of rendering Olivia entirely speechless. And that was a first.
“Come now, Olivia, do not pretend you have forgotten.” He smirked wickedly, stepping closer to her.
“I-I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered, desperately wanting to back away from him but refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Oh, you don’t?” He quirked a brow and Olivia had the ridiculous urge to reach up and run her finger along it. She, who had never been particularly attached to eyebrows in her life.
“No,” she said forcefully, hoping to remind herself, as well as he, that they were sworn enemies, and this was highly inappropriate.
“Hmm. I must admit to a rather bruised ego,” he said with a rueful grin that was much more endearing than it had a right to be. “Perhaps I should pick up where I left off.”
Yes,her body cried out.
“No,” her mercifully more logical mouth said. “You should not.”
Olivia thought she saw a flash of disappointment in his jade-green eyes but that was madness of course.
He stepped back, and she schooled her features not to show the disappointment she felt.
“What do you really want?” she asked, desperation tingeing her tone now. Her reaction to him was wildly out of control.
She wanted to run away from him, gather her scattered wits, and set about finding Jane and removing her from that lout, Mr. St. Clare.
Biting her lip, she looked up at him and waited for his answer. Her question seemed to take him aback slightly. His eyes widened infinitesimally, before his brow furrowed.
“I’m starting to think I have no idea,” he said roughly.
And once again, Olivia was speechless.
What the hellwaswrong with him?
Alexander hadn’t been lying when he’d told the delectable Olivia Darington that he’d been watching her all evening.
In fact, he’d taken rather a lot of ribbing from his neglected guests because of it.
And yet, he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
He’d been held in rapt fascination by the hints of red in her hair when she stood just so in the nearby candlelight, by the furious flush upon her cheek as she spoke to her sister, by the heart-wrenching, huge brown eyes as they stared with some bemusement as Elliot fawned over her. Something that Alexander was less than happy about.
Mostly, he was base enough to admit, he’d been held captive by the sway of her hips as she walked, the curve of her lips as she spoke, the way her dress clung, then swirled away from her body, causing him no small amount of discomfort.
Of course he’d watched her. He’d be a fool not to.
She was silently waiting for him to actually tell her what he was doing here, so he forced himself to concentrate.
In his own defence, he had had genuine reasons for following her in here. He’d noticed that Jane Darington was becoming dangerously besotted by Elliot. And he wasn’t remotely convinced that Elliot’s intentions towards the girl were honourable. He didn’t want Jane hurt by Elliot. And, he realised with a start, he didn’t want Olivia’s family hurt by the actions of his friend.
He didn’t want Olivia hurt by anything.
