Mary looked up at him and her lips formed a quick pout before she pulled her lips down again. He was sure that that move was also unpracticed, but that pout begged to be taken and pulled open by his lips.
Instead of traversing that path of thinking, he said, “Let’s consider the fight altogether. Why would a mistress expect marriage? It’s unrealistic.”
“Why shouldn’t she expect marriage?”
“She’s a mistress. She knows her role.” At that moment, Gregory knew two things; one:rolewas the wrong word; two: for that sentence there was probably no right word.
A different kind of heat was emanating from Mary, a kind of heat he had never felt from her before.
“Her role?” Mary’s eyes widened and she managed to take a half step closer to Gregory.
“Her role?! Are genteel women the only women bearing arolerealistically allowed to expect marriage? In fact, indoctrinated to believe that marriage is their onlyrole.And what of myrole?Am I not allowed to be more or be some otherroleentirely than a wife?”
Mary squeaked in another half step, and now the two were nose to nose. Gregory had no response as Mary continued to blast him with her words.
“If she wants to get married, she should get married. And why shouldn’t she get married to a prince? Is he too good for her? Is he too put together for her? Too confident? Just because she doesn’t have everything in her life together, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know what she wants. And just because the prince knows hisroledoesn’t mean he’s right!” Mary actually shouted the last four words.
It was like a cannon going off in Gregory’s face. His body was being assaulted by a soft body and fiery words. He had never seen this kind of passion in Mary, and he only wanted to see more. But he couldn’t. He knew he must focus on his estates and remember to keep everyone at arm’s length. No one else was allowed to get hurt by getting close to him.
He had to defend himself in the only way he knew how, and he had to put her at arm’s length now, or he would never gain control over the conflagration taking over his body every time she was near.
So he mocked her, “Yes, Mary. We all have our roles. You. Me. Margaret. Lyle.” He drew out Lyle’s name and almost, almost rolled his eyes. “We have our roles to keep society functioning. Wealth is an impossibility if there is no poor. Some people were born to be on top.” He shrugged a shoulder, “Others were not.”
He could see that she was about to rant again, so he pulled out the big guns. He patted her head, “Why don’t you write about something you know, what?”
With a final pat on her head, he brushed past her shoulder and forced one foot in front of the other as he left the room.
Chapter 8
Gregoryneededadrink.That woman. How was it possible that in such a short time she had sunk into his skin. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Everywhere he went he smelled her sweet scent.
All he could think about was the inviting nape of her neck pleading with him to be licked. The way she had tilted her chin down to him earlier when he had spoken lightly into her ear screamed to be kissed. What was he going to do about her?
There was no avoiding the fantasies. So he did what any gentleman would do. He decided not to attempt escape anymore, he decided to give in to the fantasy and relieve himself in order that he might have some semblance of control in her presence.
He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen since he knew his study was empty, and then he made his way to the closest private room available, his study. He locked the door, poured himself a drink, and unbuttoned his trousers.
As he grabbed his shaft, he unknowingly sighed her name, “Mary, Oh my God.”
Then he heard a soft gasp.
It didn’t take two seconds before Gregory had left the room for Mary to burst into tears. Then she immediately straightened herself, and once she decided he wasn’t worth crying over, she retreated to her comforting window alcove in the study. She needed to think and she did her best thinking over her favorite view in the house.
She knew she was hidden by the curtains, so when Gregory entered the room, she didn’t move. She thought he was going to grab a book, make a quick note, or even possibly notice her and leave in a huff.
He did none of the things she expected and the one thing she could have never possibly imagined him to do.
It all happened so fast. He unbuttoned his trouser, and had his, his, himself, in his hand and he was saying her name. Her name?
Is this what men did? Was this normal? Why was he saying her name? What did this mean?
She had thought he was angry with her, but maybe she had read everything wrong. Up was down and right was left. Her world had tilted on its axis.
She couldn’t help herself, when she heard her name, she gasped.
Gregory leaned his head back against his chair. He knew the origin of the gasp without opening his eyes. It was as if all the gods of fate had collaborated on the best way to make his life a living hell one tormenting arousal at a time.
It shouldn’t be possible. What the hell was Mary doing in his study?
