Excitement fluttered in Glory’s chest.
With any luck…me.
As Wei followed the butler through the stately Mayfair mansion, he noted all the luxuries. The grand double staircase, gleaming marble floors, and gilt-framed portraits created an ambiance of old and established wealth. He passed spacious rooms with high ceilings and decadent furnishings, the fragrance of lemon polish and fresh flowers blocking out the odors of the streets. This was undoubtedly a house fit for a duke.
Wei had a sudden memory of being in Governor Li’s compound. In the early days of his affair with Chun, he’d taken a job delivering furniture in hopes of seeing her. He recalled the awe and despair he’d felt seeing his lover’s home for the first time. He’d realized then that he could never offer her such comforts. That love might not be able to bridge the gap in station between them. That what he was doing was wrong on so many levels.
If only he’d acted on those realizations. If only he’d ended the affair.
If only.
But he was no longer the gawky lad he’d once been. He was older, hopefully wiser now. After the events at the flash house, he’d gone home and engaged in contemplation. He had spent hours meditating upon Lady Glory Cavendish…specifically, how he ought to handle his disgraceful behavior toward her.
He had not lost control like that in years. It was as if all his training, all his hard work to become a shifu, had gone up in smoke, and he had regressed to the uncouth ruffian he’d once been. He thought he had mastered his wicked urges and put them behind him, but one taste of Glory’s sweet innocence had proved him wrong.
The touch of her lips, the feel of her nubile form beneath him, had unraveled his self-control. He’d wanted to teach the bold miss not about martial arts but about pleasure. Wanted to master every inch of her lithe body while she moaned his name. To bury himself inside her untried passage, feel her blossom around his cock, and hear her scream his name when she came.
Desire had bombarded him while he’d meditated. His prick had swelled, becoming so stiff and hard that he could no longer sit comfortably cross-legged. Letting out a string of oaths—another bad habit he’d previously conquered—he had paced his chamber, willing his lust to subside. He’d battled the urge to take himself in hand and find some bloody relief. Instead, he’d stripped down to his trousers and stalked into the dark courtyard. He’d practiced kung fu for hours until he regained control over his body and mind.
His muscles quivering and dripping sweat, he’d come to a conclusion. He could no longer deny his attraction to Lady Glory, which wasn’t just physical. He…he liked her. Her spirit, optimism, and intelligence. He even liked her curiosity, which often landed her in trouble but was so endearingly authentic. Endearingly her. Combine all that with her rare beauty, and she was the most potent of drugs.
His gut roiling, he’d thought of Chun. Of their toxic, addictive passion. Of how he’d sacrificed everything, even his family, to plow her eager cunt.
He would never do that again. Never again abandon his principles for desire.
He was in London for one reason alone: to hunt down his family’s killer. He couldn’t afford distractions. Couldn’t let himself get entangled with a reckless maiden, knowing that no good—and likely all bad—would come of it. His honor had demanded that he come here today to offer her an apology and make amends however possible. Lady Glory deserved that courtesy before he extricated himself from her life.
Greaves led him into the drawing room, and his resolution suffered a blow. Not just because Lady Glory shone like a pearl in her native setting, but also because of her greeting. Unlike most ladies of her class, she did not remain reposed upon the settee with her skirts artfully arranged. She didn’t flutter her eyelashes or wait for him to do the pretty.
Instead, this duke’s daughter leapt up and rushed over to him, her ferret bounding behind her. She stopped just short of him, her lavender skirts swishing to a halt, her eyes shining with unaffected welcome. At her smile, which came complete with dimples, his heart hammered until his chest ached with pleasure.
Glory Cavendish was always lovely, but when she smiled, she was beyond compare.
“Master Chen, I am so happy you came,” she said breathlessly.
He remembered to bow. It wasn’t easy because he didn’t want to look away from her glowing face. Even her freckles seemed to sparkle.
Mrs. Newton came forward. “We are surprised but pleased by your visit, sir.”
As a fighter, Wei was trained to assess his surroundings, yet he hadn’t registered the presence of the chaperone until this moment. That was how fully Glory absorbed his attention—how completely he fell under her spell.
This is why she is dangerous. A threat to your purpose. Do what you came to do, then go.
He inclined his head. “I beg your pardon for arriving unannounced—”
“I know why you’ve come, Mr. Chen,” Mrs. Newton said.
Does she?
Wei shot a glance at Lady Glory. Her subtle shake of the head told him she hadn’t disclosed their encounter.
“You do, madam?” he said politely.
“Indeed.” Mrs. Newton’s reply was crisp. “You have come to regret the rashness of your decision, haven’t you?”
You have no idea.
But he caught himself in the lie. As appalled and ashamed as he was by his ungentlemanly conduct, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. His experience with Glory had been like stumbling upon a cozy cottage on a long winter’s journey; the memory of her passion would warm him in the cold and lonely days ahead.
