His mocking chuckle should have aggravated her more, but it somehow softened her fury. “You started it. You should know better than to send a man a picture of yourself looking tousled and freshly fucked.”
Her cheeks burned. “That’s not what I look like.”
“But it is.” He reached out a hand and tugged at her unkempt hair. “I just so happened to be nearby when I saw the house was dark. All but your bedroom…”
Flustered, she swatted his hand away from her face and cinched the belt of her robe. “And how do you know which room is mine?”
Rather than answer, he sauntered into her father’s study and dropped into the high-back leather chair, kicking his feet up on the desk. “Watch the broken glass.” He crossed his legs at the ankle as he lounged back, folding his hands behind his head as if he owned the place.
She tiptoed around the shards. “That vase was an heirloom.”
“Oh, no.” He said dryly, swiping the gold letter opener off the desk to examine the tip. “How come you didn’t go to the party tonight?”
“That silly party? I’d rather save my energy for better things.”
He laughed. “Such as?”
She tried to mirror his nonchalance. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He raised a sharp blond brow with a look of indifference that infuriated her. She detested his lack of concern. Some part of her deeply wanted to matter to him. Maybe not him, but to someone. And she despised the existence of such neediness inside of her, so she concealed it as best she could, turning her attention to the mess on the floor.
Her mother’s prized vase was destroyed, and her parents would require an explanation. No one would believe her if she told them Peter Pangbourne had done this.
“I need to find Liza.”
“Who’s Liza?”
“Our housekeeper.”
“She’s out back with some guy’s arm half up her skirt.”
Wendy’s eyes bulged. “She is not.”
He smirked. “Check for yourself. Why do you think the dog’s going nuts?”
Wendy rushed to the window. Sure enough, a couple hid in the shadows of the carriage house. Liza’s body pressed to the wall, her leg hooked around some man’s hip as the tall figure bucked into her.
Wendy gasped and covered her mouth, turning her back on the erotic image. A million questions raced through her mind. Who was that man groping the maid? Did Liza know him? Did she want his hands on her in such a rough and aggressive way? Liza was only a few years older than Wendy, yet she appeared so…comfortable in the shadows, doing dark deeds. Where did she learn such things?
“Don’t look so shocked.”
Her eyes met Peter’s. “Who is that guy?”
He shrugged and sauntered to the window to get another peek. “If I had to guess, he probably works for the neighbor. The help’s always fucking other help.”
“Liza has never?—”
He drew back the curtain. “That is not the body language of an ignorant woman, Wendy.”
“Stop that!” She rushed forward and drew the drapes shut. “They’ll see us.”
Peter laughed. “Dalliance is good for them. When they fuck each other, it keeps them from fucking over us.” He flashed a devious smirk. “Who knew you were such a prude?”
“I’m not a prude, I’m…” She was shocked, intrigued, and very curious. Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin. “I don’t judge.”
“You’re judging them right now.”
“Am not!”
