“And what brought you tothatconclusion, wife?”
She searched worried eyes over his face. “I’ve angered you.”
“Do I look happy?” he snapped.
“No, that is why I remarked—”
“Never mind.” Closing his eyes, Argyll pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I know a man with your reputation will have your pride pricked.” His thoughtful wife came over and patted him on the back.
“I’m less concerned with your smoothing my wounded pride, madam, and more intent on the why of it.”
Argyll was rather proud of his calm given the volatile storm brewing under his skin.
“Oh.”
“Oh, as in it did not occur to you, I might wonder at that?”
Daria chewed at her finger. “This is about your need for an heir?”
“No, this is about me wanting to fuck you,” he said bluntly.
A fiery red spilled across her cheeks. Her lips parted.
“Oh?” he supplied for her.
She nodded. “I’m not accustomed to that manner of coarse language.” Her color deepened.
Damn if she didn’t look lovely with that color in her face, and how much more bloody entrancing were it to be from Argyll thrusting between her trim thighs.
Argyll set his glass down on the mantel and wandered nearer his wife. “I’ve answered you, wife. Your turn now.”
Having this conversation after he’d reveled in her body, only to be left rock hard, didn’t bode well—for either of them. But have it they would.
He crossed his arms at his chest. “One does not change the terms of a contract after they’ve been set and agreed upon, madam.”
Daria bit the corner of her finger. “Given the day’s…events, our arrangement merits new considerations.”
It was too much.
“There is no current situation, madam,” he shouted. Argyll tossed his arms high. “And what bloody ‘events’. The only one I recall was marriage.” One he was fast beginning to regret.
Amidst his storm, Daria remained the picture of calm.
Closing his eyes, Argyll dragged in several slow breaths. “What precisely is the situation you speak?” he repeated.
“I do not want you coming to my bed after you’ve spent the day in some woman’s arms, Gregory.” Daria shook her head. “I will not do it.”
He stared. Wait.
What?
This is what she believed?
Why shouldn’t she?You evaded her all day.
And when she visited his office, he’d been in a state of dishabille, stinking of brandy, wearing marks on his neck.
