“Heard what?” she asked warily.
“About Mr. St. Clair. He has accepted Lenora’s invitation, and will be joining us at Clarenmore Park in less than a fortnight.”
Eloisefeltthe blood drain from her face.
It didn’t go in a drip but a hot, furious rush that surrounded her heart before plummeting straight down to her stomach where it sloshed into a pool of acid.
“….be wonderful,” Annabel was saying, oblivious to the bile that Eloise was struggling to choke back. “Everyoneis talking about him, and that means when he’s at our house party everyone will be talking aboutus. There’s already been a frenzy over the remaining invitations. Lenora said that the Duke and Duchess of Chamberland would like to attend, if you can believe it, and–where are you going?”
“To slay a dragon.”
Adam was in mid-sentencewith Mr. Browning, a self-made hotelier, when Eloise stormed up, grabbed his arm, and hissed, “I need to speak with you right away.”
“What do you want?” he asked, ignoring the way his pulse quickened at the sight of her. At the scent of her. At the touch of her. Throughout the night, his gaze had betrayed him again and again, straying to wherever she happened to be. Each time a lord had approached her to request a dance, his muscles had tightened, and they hadn’t relaxed until she was alone.
“I just told you. I require a word. In private.” She smiled at Mr. Browning; a sweet, happy, charming smile that she’d never once shown Adam. Hell, he hadn’t even known that she wascapableof a smile like that. The kind that could bring a grown man to his knees. “Would you please excuse us? I have a business matter to discuss with Mr. St. Clair.”
Mr. Browning bowed. “Of course, my lady.”
“I don’t have any business with you,” Adam growled as the hotelier walked away. “But I did have business withhim.”
“You can find him later. Come with me.” She tugged his arm. He didn’t move. She tugged again, then rolled her eyes in exasperation when his feet remained firmly planted. “Would it kill you to be agreeable? I just want to go somewhere we can be alone and not overheard.”
But Adam didn’t want to go anywhere alone with her.
Bad things happened when they were alone.
Terrible, naughty, tantalizing things.
“Five minutes,” he gritted out, and he let her lead him through the crowd to an inconspicuous door that led to a hallway, and the hallway to a parlor with a chaise lounge that was just the right size for–
Fuck off, he told his cock when it began to swell. He was not going to permit himself to be aroused by Eloise Rosewood and that was that. Mind over matter, and hadn’t he done harder things than kept his desire in check for a sultry little spitfire that he didn’t even like? Kissing her again would be the equivalent of sticking his hand over an open flame. And while he was a self-admitted bastard by every definition of the word, he was by no means a masochist.
“What’s all this about?” He closed the door behind them but didn’t lock it, leaving an easy escape at his disposal should his self-imposed restraint abandon him. “You’ve four and a half minutes.”
Eloise leaned against the curled arm of a sofa. “Have you found her yet?”
“Found who?” he said irritably.
“Your perfect bride. Maybe if you tell me what your criteria is, I can help you in your search. Wait. No.” She shook her head. “Let me guess, like it’s a game. She must be beautiful. All men desirebeautifulwomen, regardless of their intelligence or lack thereof. She must be polite. No speaking out of turn or chewing with her mouth full. And since you came all the way to England to find her, I’m assuming that she must also be the daughter of a duke, or a marquess, or even an earl, if you’d dare stoop so low. Am I close?”
A vein pulsed in his temple. “Three minutes and fifteen seconds.”
“You cannot come to Clarenmore Park.” She folded her arms as her chin tilted at a stubborn angle. “I was just informed that you’re attending our house party, but you cannot come. You’re rude, grumpy, arrogant, and I don’t want you there.”
His acceptance of the duchess’s invitation was news to him, but he kept that information carefully concealed behind a wall of indifference. “I wasn’t aware that I required your permission.”
“It’smyhouse.”
“It’smyinvitation.”
Her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparked, and why the hell did she have to look so goddamned appealing when she was angry? The woman was a volcano, all fiery eruptions and boiling lava. He shouldn’t have found her attractive in the slightest, but he did, and it wasmaddening. This push and pull. This urge to shove her aside and then yank her close. This desire to kiss her and to notstopkissing her until the madness within him was sated.
He took a step forward.
Stopped.
Dragged his foot back.
