“Duke! Stay!” I beg.
He drags me faster as we hit the main floor and go barreling through the foyer. I turn sideways, tensing myself for impact as I slam into the entrance door, thinking it’s an absolute miracle that it didn’t shatter. Duke goes up on his back paws, jumping against the glass and barking nonstop at the small but noisy Chihuahua standing on the other side.
I close my eyes and grab my shoulder as intense pain shoots up and down my arm.
Well, I can’t say that any of my romance novel heroines have rocked an arm splint in the midst of their scandalous seductions, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.
10
Charlotte’s breath ripped from her chest as she ran out onto the deserted balcony facing the eastern edge of the estate. She looked skyward as she struggled to calm herself, concentrating on filling her lungs with the crisp night air. She assumed she was alone, but she should have known Robert would follow her out into the darkness.
“Are you all right?” he asked as he moved to her side.
Still gazing up into an endless pool of stars, Charlotte steadied her voice. It wouldn’t do for him to know that she was crying. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
Robert moved closer still, trailing his fingers against hers. Charlotte sighed at the soft contact.
“George said you and your father had an argument.”
“We do that quite often.” Charlotte moved her fingers back against his. She knew it was wrong, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t stop. “I thought George had gone up to bed. I’ll go speak to him.”
She began to walk away but Robert took hold of her wrist and pulled her back. As he looked down at her tearstained cheeks, something primal curled up and snapped inside him. He would have loved to beat Phillip Destonbury to a bloody pulp, but the look in Charlotte’s eye stopped him. She needed him and he would not leave her. Not for the world.
“What did your father say to you?” he asked.
She slowly met his eyes, wanting so much to be wrapped in the comfort she knew he would give. “He said I’m becoming a useless shrew just like my mother. He said I’m spoiled and willful and if I don’t do everything in my power to convince you to marry me, he will make me live to regret it.”
Robert’s free hand balled into a fist. If he heard much more, he didn’t doubt that he would throw Charlotte over his shoulder and take her away from this place forever, consequences be damned. “Tell me what I can do to help you. Tell me how to make this right and I will.”
“I want to forget things for a while,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Can I do that? Just for one night?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. Charlotte turned to Robert and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to crash her lips to his. Robert was surprised but more than willing as his arms instantly locked around her waist. She had finally come to him on her own and he had no intention of letting her go.
The kiss escalated as the two finally crossed some kind of invisible line. Charlotte opened her mouth to him, demanding more and kissing him with an innocent abandon that nearly brought Robert to his knees. He answered her passion with a growl and fitted her even more tightly against him.
Time slid away until Charlotte pulled back, gasping for air. The look in Robert’s eyes sent delicious shivers through every inch of her.
“Come to my room tonight,” he pleaded, bending forward to kiss the side of her throat. “Once the house is asleep, I’ll send my valet to bring you to me. Say yes. Be mine, even if only for tonight.”
Charlotte tilted her head back, giving Robert full access to the sensitive skin along her neck. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yours, tonight...”
I stop typing with a naughty smirk. Things are about to get real in Greenspeak Park! My oven timer sounds a second later, forcing me away from my characters, who are completely ready to go for the gold.
To be continued.
I close my laptop and rush from my desk to the kitchenette.
I ignore the persistent ache in my shoulder as I put the finishing touches on my fettuccini alfredo, pushing through the pain and stirring another handful of cheese into the thickening sauce. Once I’m satisfied, I turn off the burner and cover the pot with a glass lid. The clock on the stove reads 6:34 p.m. Ryan said he’d be back around this time.
I untie the bib apron that I still have from when I was a barista at a bookshop in college and toss it onto the counter, revealing a pale blue T-shirt with a gray sweater and navy yoga pants. I originally wore jeans, but they felt too fancy and I’m attempting to come off as cute yet casual while also giving off the impression that maybe I do yoga.
Deciding to partake in some liquid courage, I take a half-full bottle of Riesling out of the fridge and pour myself a glass before I head into the living room. It’s not like Ineedliquid courage, though. All I’m doing is cooking a meal for an attractive man who I have tons of emotional ties to while trying to live out a romance novel outline in the hopes of finishing my book and sparking a physical relationship that could possibly lead to something more, but probably not because I would be dishonoring my father and going straight to hell.
Yeah, I take a big ol’ sip of my wine.
I’m sitting down on the couch next to Duke when I hear the lock turning in the door over the Van Morrison I have playing. I take another sip of wine and roll my neck.
It’s go time.
