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)
He could not look later.
If she heard him, she didn’t take any notice of it. Just carried the book back to him and turned it so the pages would be the correct way once she placed it down. The moment it was on the desktop she retreated to her chair.
“Thank you.”
“Of course, my lord.”
The door was open and many staff members moved around, occasionally peeking in to see if they needed anything.
He wasn’t a fool, well aware that part of the reason for their constant visits was they looked for gossip to spread, but more was they looked out for Fyre. He saw the affection many of those on his staff had for the young woman.
Because he wanted to keep her around, he ground down on the feverish sensations she created in him and made sure all behavior was above board. No matter how much he wanted to brush his lips along her skin. Stroke those curves. Sweep her hair away from her neck, exposing the small space where it met her shoulder and kiss it, push his tongue there and taste her.
He longed for her to tremble in his arms as he whispered what he was going to do to her after she came for him, around his fingers, which would be deep in her wetness.
Phillip coughed and reached for his drink, needing something because he was about to burst free of his breeches. She looked up from the book she’d been going through and making notations in.
“Everything okay, my lord?”
“Phillip.”
She lifted her eyebrows. Not one but both of them.
“Call me Phillip.”
“I cannot, my lord. That would not be proper.” She dropped her gaze back to the pages before her.
You can and you will. Maybe not tonight, but you will scream my name, Fyre.
His housekeeper walked in, a tray of food in hand. Fyre turned her head to see who it was, then went back to the book and—because he’d not been able to pull his gaze from her yet—he saw some scarred skin along her neck ever so briefly before her hair covered it once more. He blinked and took another look at the ledger before him.
“Your meal, my lord.” The tray was set beside him.
He grunted as he tried to make sense of the numbers from before she’d taken over. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked over to the items waiting for him and scowled.
“What is this?”
“The food you had requested be brought to you this evening, my lord.”
Lifting his head, he stared at the woman. Her blue eyes held his but only for a tick of time.
“Where is food for her?” He stabbed a finger in Fyre’s direction.
The woman bumbled and blinked a few times before squaring her shoulders. “You did not say you wished to eat with your guest.”
Phillip bit back, barely, the snarl that shot from his throat as fast as his own horse had unseated him the first time he’d met Ciara and her big cat.
“I should not have to say it. We are in here working and for you to bring me food but nothing for her does not make me happy.”
The housekeeper turned her eyes to Fyre. “What can I bring you?”
Fyre closed the book she’d been working in and rose. “Nothing, thank you. I have to get heading home.” She gave the housekeeper a small nod, one he noticed wasn’t returned, before she glanced back to him. “I can be by in two days, my lord, if you would still like me to be of assistance.”
“Do you not typically do the books daily?”
“No, my lord. If you would like that to change, I can do them daily, starting in two days.”
There was a bite to her words, like she dared him to defy her. He longed to nibble on that plump lower lip, tug it and suck it into his mouth.
He laced his fingers and took his time in looking over her. “Two days then.” The moment she nodded, he added, “In the morning. I will feed you breakfast so be here early. There will be a lot to cover.”
He watched it, in her eyes, the desire to snip back at him. She wasn’t a fan of being told what to do. God, she was magnificent.
“Very good, my lord. I will see you in two days.” She curtsied and walked out.
The housekeeper stood there, watching their interaction.
“You can leave,” he said without looking at her again. He wanted to get up and go after Fyre, take her home.
Shit, it was dark out. He couldn’t have her walk.
Shooting to his feet, he was striding to the door before the housekeeper even made it from the room. He called for a footman and sent them after Fyre, to detain her while the carriage was readied.
She was off to the side when he was able to lay eyes on her once more, as he stepped outside. Phillip didn’t appreciate her expression, which he saw in the flickering torchlight.