And I want to follow.
He let her walk a step ahead, licking his lips as he watched the way her buttocks sashayed as she walked. He clenched his fists to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing her, for the temptation was almost too much.
“Are you any good at charades?” she asked over her shoulder as they turned the corner to the drawing room.
Alexander cleared his throat, ridding himself of the images he knew he ought not have. “I’ve been known to win on occasion, yes,” he said. “Though I must admit, it’s not my favorite game.”
“Let me guess,” she said, turning and winking at him as they found their seats, “you much prefer hunting in the woods?”
Alexander was both surprised and tickled by her boldness. She had a sense of humor behind that wall of irritation that she so often liked to put up. He rather liked it when she teased him . This time, as she walked away, he knew she moved intentionally to lure him, and that—along with the mischievous wink—only made him want her more.
A confounding woman. He took his seat, pinching his trousers and pulling on them as he lowered himself into the cushioned seat. The butler handed him a glass of brandy, which he took gratefully, but his eyes did not leave the shape of Miss Charlotte’s body, nor the way her gown brushed softly over the curve of her breasts.
And what ample breasts they are for such a lithe woman.
She seemed to have forgotten about him entirely, already deep in joyful conversation with Lady Chelsea. As if he were nothing. He placed his brandy on the small side table and ran his hand up his thigh. His flesh seemed particularly sensitive, as if just a simple touch would light a fire in him.
What on earth has gotten into me?He hadn’t felt this physically alive for months, maybe even years. Not even Lucille had instilled such an uncontrollable desire in him. Oh, he’d enjoyed his time with her, of course, but it had always been her leading the games, never him. He had allowed himself to be her puppet but with Miss Charlotte, he wanted to be master.
“Really, Chelsea! I don’t think it’s a good idea!”
The renewed irritation in Miss Charlotte’s voice made Alexander sit up and pay attention. He looked over to find Chelsea grinning eagerly and Miss Charlotte looking back at her imploringly.
“What’s not a good idea?” he asked Stewart in a whisper.
“Chelsea says that Miss Charlotte has a beautiful voice and is insisting she sings for us.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow and, loud enough for all to hear, he said, “Goodness, she’s musical as well as athletic. She is a lady of secrets, isn’t she?”
He caught her gaze, refusing to let it go, and though it was barely more than a second, they spoke so much to one another in that moment. Confounding though she might be, and as irritating as she found him, there was something between them. Some spark that Alexander did not understand. Nor did he particularly care to. He would never see this woman again after the wedding. He would simply enjoy playing the game for the time being.
“I amnota lady of secrets,” she snapped back. “If anything, I am entirely open.”
“Then sing for us,” Chelsea pleaded. She sat on the very edge of her chair, almost close to toppling off it, and she held her hands out to Miss Charlotte as though that might encourage her.
Miss Charlotte huffed. “I don’t see why you all wantmeto entertain you. Chelsea herself is a wonderful harpist.”
Stewart snorted loudly at the same time as Chelsea giggled.
“I’ve heard my cousin play the harp,” Stewart said. “And if you thinkthatwonderful, then perhaps you and I have very different definitions of the wordwonderful.”
Chelsea mocked gasped. “I admit I seem to have fifteen fingers when I play, but there’s no need to gothatfar.”
Stewart held his hands up in defeat. “I’m only saying I would rather not hear you play. I’m on your side, remember. We want to hear Charlotte sing.”
“As do I,” Alexander said.
He kept his gaze fixed on hers and pushed himself further down into the chair, as if making himself comfortable for the performance. He couldn’t stop himself looking her up and down, his tongue running across his bottom lip as he imagined herserenading him, swaying as she moved her naked body closer to him.
She must have sensed his lewd thoughts, for she glared at him, her eyes burning into him. He laughed, sitting up straighter again and clearing his throat.
Honestly! Whathasgotten into me?
“Then at the very least someone can accompany me,” she said, looking hopefully once more at Chelsea.
“Why, Your Grace,” Chelsea said, turning her eyes on him, “Stewart tells me that you are an excellent pianist. So good, I believe he said, that you could have been a member of the orchestra, had things been different.”
“You said that?” Alexander asked, looking at Stewart just as his friend broke into a grin.
