After a minute, the investigator said aloud, “Directlyto her room, my lord.”
“Thank you, sir.” Richard offered his arm to Violet. “Shall we, Miss Kent?”
Chapter Fourteen
Violet had never been a shrinking testament to her namesake, yet she was unaccountably tongue-tied as Carlisle escorted her back to her room. There was much to discuss concerning Wick, yet her brain refused to cooperate. Perhaps the lack of sleep combined with the excitement of the last several hours was finally taking its toll. She felt giddy, her pulse skipping erratically; she couldn’t control the wave of awareness flooding her senses.
Despite his brawny build, Carlisle moved with undeniable grace, his stride athletic and assured as they climbed the steps up to the floor of her room. Glancing beneath her lashes at his unsmiling mouth, she recalled the sensual firmness of those lips—and had to wet her own. Her gaze dipped lower, to the long-fingered hands at his sides, and molten heat welled inside her.
In the library, he’d awakened her to pleasure that she hadn’t known existed. His kisses had been so hot, his words even hotter. Then there was the way he’d touched her:insideand out until bliss had exploded, catapulting her over that dazzling, ecstatic edge… It had been, without question, the most exhilarating experience of her life. Better than any sport. Better than riding, climbing, and dancingcombined.
“We should talk.”
Carlisle’s pronouncement pulled her from her reverie. His brusque tone and the intent look in his eyes instantly filled her with wariness. Although she couldn’t deny her physical attraction to him, their differences were far from settled. The memory of his shoddy marriage proposal surfaced, along with all his past comments about her character.
Andhe’d sided with Ambrose in trying to shut her out of the case.
Nothing has changed,her inner voice said.Just because he dallied with you doesn’t mean he likes you.
Something inside her deflated like a soufflé. As much as she’d told herself that his opinion didn’t matter, for some infernal reason, it did. The fact made her feel exposed, vulnerable in a way she didn’t like.
As they passed the landing, which featured a Grecian urn gleaming in its recessed niche, she tried to bluff her way through. “Yes, we need to figure out how to help Wick—”
“There’s nowein that endeavor, Miss Kent. Wickham is my brother and my responsibility. I don’t want you involved.”
His rejection worse than stung—ithurt. A fragile connection had sprouted between them since finding Monique’s body. For a short time, they’d actually been working together, and it had felt surprisingly… right.
Swallowing, she said, “I’m already involved. Wick’s my friend. Don’t forget I’m protecting his secret, too.”
“I’m in no danger of forgetting. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” While she struggled to absorb that blow, Carlisle went on impatiently, “My brother aside, you and I have a matter to settle between us. A matter of honor.”
At the word “honor,” she stopped short in the deserted hallway, just a few doors down from her chamber. Anger shot up like a geyser. She welcomed the sudden surge of energy because it felt better than humiliation.
“You’re not going to propose again, are you?” she said acidly.
His eyes flickered. Did he flinch?
When he spoke, his words were harder than iron. “Is it the notion of marriage that you find offensive or the notion of marriage to me?”
“I don’t find the notion of marriage offensive.”
“It’s me, then.” His expression was darker than a forge. “At least you’re honest. So none of that meant anything to you, is that it?”
“None of what?” she shot back.
“Kissing, making love.” Iridescent ore glittered in his eyes. “You’re like the rest of your sex. Flirtation is a game to you. You string men along for fun and then toss them aside when you grow bored.”
The unfairness of the accusation rendered her speechless for a moment.
She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not playing any games!”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” he said in scathing tones, “you and I have played twice now in the dark. Yet you won’t even listen to my proposal.”
Then and there, her temper snapped.
“Because I don’t want to be insulted, you lummox!” she yelled.
“Insulted?” he said coldly. “Why wouldyoube insulted?”
