“My father met my mother a week before their wedding, was inher presence thrice, and he fell madly in love with her and still mourns herpassing.”
Her eyes widened.“Are you saying you’re falling in lovewith me?”
In lust, that deed was done.
In love, they’d see.
“You’re soft, yet strong.”
“Sir,” she said urgently as she began moving backwards.
That was because he was moving toward her.
“You’re cunning and clever,” he went on, moving wide to herdher from the door.
“Lord Remington.”
“Loren.”
“I—”
“You dress impeccably.”
“I didn’t pick my clothing.”
“I don’t care.”
“Ummmm…” She drew that out untilshe hit a chair in front of her father’s desk, corrected the wrong way, andpresently, she was pinned against the desk with his body.
“I like looking at you,” he murmured to her mouth, one ofthe many things on her he liked looking at.
“Your grace.”
He lifted his gaze to hers and growled, “Loren.”
“Oh my,” she whispered, her chest rising and fallingrapidly, brushing against his own.
“You’ll forgive my brazen language, I’m sure,” he said.“Butyou’ve also got an arse I’m fairly certain was made for my hands.”
“Wow,” she breathed.
“Mm,” he purred.
“My family is currently a mess,” she reminded him.
“Nothing like stability to sort that,” he retorted.
“I know nothing ofHawkvale.Atall.I didn’t grow up here.”
“And that matters?”
“My sister—”
“Yes, let’s talk about Maxine.If your father cuts you off,which I feel certain he will, who will pay for her care?”
“Shit,” she let slip, an odd word, perhaps improperly used,but since, either way, inHawkvalethey had itsequivalent, it was not one he didn’t understand.
“Indeed,” he replied.
