Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Anger filled him to think of this man daring to even touch Fyre. This was where he should continue to look for his women. Phillip walked out and got back on his horse. Then he went riding. By the time he finished, he’d realized two things. He needed to get more sleep, and he was far worse off than he’d initially imagined.
For he was once again in front of Fyre’s place. Morning’s light had begun to push away the night, casting a soft glow on all it touched.
He knocked on the door.
Realizing she may not want to open the door without knowing who was on the other side, he knocked again.
“Fyre, it is Phillip. Open the door.”
She cracked it open, and the flickering candle inside made her skin glow. Lust slammed him and he gulped. Then he noticed the bruise and his stomach churned with anger.
“Who the fuck hit you?” He stepped toward her.
“My lord, what are you doing here at this hour?”
“Asking you a question. Let me in.”
“This is not proper.”
“Who. Hit. You?” The question was a low growl.
Her fingers, he noticed, trembled as she gently brushed over the spot. “You need not concern yourself. Please leave.”
She wouldn’t look him in the eyes and it was killing him.
“Come today, Fyre. Do not make me come after you.” He backed away and was riding off before he could think about it because he knew he had been seconds from pushing his way into her place. To hell with the consequences.
* * * *
All day he was antsy, waiting for her to arrive. He worked out in the fields with his men just to have his energy focused on something else. While it had been something he’d done before, even he could admit that today there was an almost possessed air about him as he worked.
He didn’t speak to the men beside him, not really, allowing them to do their thing. When the afternoon rolled around, he stopped to get clean. There was a small pool of water he’d discovered while riding that was secluded from others’ eyes. That was where he went and stripped down to nothing before jumping in.
It wasn’t something he would have enjoyed doing back in England, that was for sure, but here, the water was warm and moved like silk over his skin as he swam. Only once the sweat and grime was gone did he get out and tug his clothing back on. Did he want dirty clothing back on? No. However not even he was ready to be riding his horse in nothing.
Mood slightly better now that he’d sweated off his frustrations—most of them at least—then removed the sweat, he nudged his horse back toward home and ran over how little he missed England.
Sure, it would be nice to be able to stop by and see Lucien or Rafe, but the lifestyle, the rules, the matchmaking mamas… He shuddered. Hard pass.
Besides, he had his eye on someone here. Rules be damned.
Handing the reins off as he dismounted, he cracked his neck as he walked to the door. Keating opened it with a nod.
“My lord.”
“Afternoon, Keating. I’m going to need some food and…” He trailed off as a maid appeared with a footman carrying a tray of food. “You are good, Keating, but how did you know I was going to be hungry at this moment?”
“That is for your Ms. Fyre, my lord,” he said without batting an eye. “She arrived an hour ago to work on your books. As you told me she was to have all the access needed, she is in your study, looking over your new venture and setting up a new ledger for it.”
Heat slammed him, kicking his body’s temperature back up to where it had been before he’d taken the brief swim. He was already walking that way before the man finished. “Bring me something to eat as well.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Were his need to see Fyre not so strong, he would have looked back at Keating, swearing there was a bit of humor in the man’s tone. Perhaps the stodgy butler was softening just a bit.
Waiting in the doorway as they finished setting up her food, at his desk even, Phillip didn’t speak, just listened to Fyre interact with both the maid and the footman. How polite she was to each of them. The soft cadence of her voice settled something deep inside his chest even though she wasn’t looking at or speaking to him directly.
It was the woman. Her presence here. Her effect on him.
He stepped back when they turned and put a finger to his lips. Neither spoke, just walked by him and he took their place, moving farther into the room until he was hit with her scent.
Phillip still hadn’t figured out what it was she used in her soap to make her smell so tantalizing, but he would always recognize her.