Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
‘I should like some privacy,’ I say, alarmed by my thoughts, as I walk to the door and pull it open. ‘If you don’t mind.’ She loves my story. I didn’t think my desire for her could be any stronger. Lord have mercy on my soul, this could be an even more unfortunate situation if I allow it. I must not allow it! Focus, focus, focus.
‘Of course, my apologies.’
I frown as she stands and approaches, having an internal battle, my head and heart at war. My head is commending her for her sensible, adult approach. My heart is begging her to challenge my coarseness.
‘One more thing,’ she says, stopping just short of the doorway.
I do not look at her. ‘And what is that?’
‘I have drawn something. After reading your story, I was quite inspired. I must at least thank you for that.’ She holds up a piece of worn paper, and I accept, staring down at the pencil drawing of a white stallion standing nose-to-nose with … me. It is exceptional. The detail, the shading. I look at this picture she has drawn and feel exactly as I felt on that day.
Mesmerised.
What a talent she is. Talented and beautiful with plenty of sass.
‘Good day to you, Mr. Melrose.’
I quickly slam the door, and Taya jolts, but her eyes remain on the wood, her body still.
The sounds of Mama’s and Papa’s soirée register behind me, but it does not prompt me to do what is right. What I should do. On the lumpiest of swallows, I search for some words. Any words. In fact, I am struggling somewhat awfully to speak at all. So instead, I take one step and place my body in front of hers. Her hands shoot up and fist my jacket, and I inhale sharply, looking down at the back of Taya’s head. She cannot look at me. I can feel her heart pounding, punching into my chest. The heat of our bodies so close getting hotter by the second. I recall each time she has touched me, whether fleeting or not. The exhilaration.
Christ, I must not bow to this insanity, for it will surely be most disastrous. I need respect and recognition. I need Papa to see I am serious about the family business, that I am worthy of the responsibility. To give in to this madness would be to risk my plan, and my plan is not to continue my rakish ways, but to step up and be serious. To ensure the family business not only survives, but goes from strength to strength.
But then Taya slowly lifts her face and I have her eyes, and all of my reasoning is lost amid a wave of complete and utter awe. My God, such beauty is most certainly dangerous to men. Her eyes dart across my face and land on my lips, and I for sure know if she moves in for a kiss, I will not be able to resist. I will not be able to deny myself the certain pleasure of it.
She comes towards me, and as a result of that small move, all kinds of big things happen in my breeches, the rubbing of her body in such a sensitive place quite unbearable. ‘Good lord,’ I breathe, inhaling, seeing her pink, wet tongue trace her bottom lip, and when her mouth delicately brushes mine, I am gone, no longer here in the study, but floating. No longer fearful of the repercussions, but excited to be inside her, my body hardening … everywhere. I fall deeply into our kiss, my hands going to her back and holding her, pulling her closer, as our mouths move, our tongues dance and our bodies sing.
You are a rake, Francis.
It is time to settle down.
Are you a businessman or a dandy?
No! ‘Hell,’ I gasp as I step back and release her from my hold, but not before ensuring she is safely standing, of course, albeit on wobbly legs and looking somewhat dazed. I am with her, totally befogged. ‘We must not,’ I say, refusing to look at her, my eyes and head low, not only to avoid facing Taya for fear of caving to the connection, but ashamed I have been so weak. ‘Your brothers will marry you well. I cannot be responsible for ruining your prospects.’ I will certainly lose my mind if I have to spend another moment with her, so I hurry out and rush up the stairs. ‘Bloody hell,’ I breathe, raking a hand through my hair as I fall into my bedroom. I drop to the bed and fall to my back, frowning when something in my hand registers. I hold it up. The drawing, more crumpled now than before, after being held in my fist. I sit up and smooth out the paper and stare at the sketch. It is exceptionally good. And I didn’t even tell her so. I should have told her! I want to tell her.