“Oh.”
“And, since I did not get much sleep last night and I anticipate an early morning, I should take my leave.”
Blast! She had wanted him to kiss her. If George had not interrupted them, maybe…
Blythe pushed her thoughts aside. Hoping and wishing would not help so she walked him to the front door and tried to hide her disappointment.
“Does that mean you are not a rake?”
His grey eyes darkened as the corner of his mouth twitched. “I will be back tomorrow. Our discussions are not over, nor is our association.”
Her heart started pounding again.
He opened the door and stepped out onto the stoop and grinned, mischief in his grey eyes.
“And do not forget, you do belong to me.” He tipped his head. “Goodnight, Blythe.”
Then he was gone, stepping onto the street and into the darkness.
Oh, she had wanted to call him back but did not. Instead, she shut the door and locked it.
You do belong to me!
Then where had he been since his return?
He nearly kissed Blythe and would have if they had not been interrupted.
While they conversed, he had noted as people left Athena’s Salon and the hour grew late. His own brother, Demetrius, had even arched a brow in question, but Orlando had only glanced at him. He feared that if he would have indicated to Demetrius in any way to leave without him that Blythe would have noticed then looked around and realized how long they had sat in conversation.
When Demetrius started forward, it was Isabella who tugged on his arm and pulled him back while Lavinia tilted her head and raised an eyebrow of interest, smiled at Orlando and then followed her husband and sister-in-law. Women were usually the smarter of the genders in this situation.
Then he and Blythe were alone, and they continued to talk.
Orlando had not wanted the night to end, and he wanted to kiss her and contemplated if he should seduce her but feared it was too soon when George interrupted them.
Blythe had wanted to be kissed. Of that he was certain.
Did she also long for the intimacy that they had once been denied?
Those were the thoughts that plagued him as he walked down the street.
He could have hailed hackney, but his home and medical practice was not so far away from Athena’s Salon, just on the edge of Covent Garden and near Leicester Square, and the walk allowed him to consider his options.
He would return to Athena’s Salon tomorrow night, and the night that followed.
He would court Blythe and then…
Court her?
No, he wanted to seduce her. He wanted her in his bed, her naked body beneath his. He wanted her as a lover and friend. It had always been that way. He needed…
Bloody hell!
Blythe was not someone he could just bed or keep as a lover until he tired of her. She deserved more respect.
But the only alternative was marriage.
What right did he have to pursue the daughter of a duke when he was but a mere doctor, son of a stable hand, with hardly any income to support a family.
