Page List


Font:  

“I am very sorry,” Evan said again. “If there were any other way—”

“Of course there is another way,” Alexandra said. “If it’s a chaperone you are concerned about, send us with one of the servants—one you trust completely. I’m sure he would be happy to escort the two of us to the balls in London.”

Oh, Alexandra was beautiful, and when she got that dander up, sexuality just oozed from her pores. Evan felt feral. He wanted to run to her and crush his mouth to hers in a carnal and passionate kiss. But he couldn’t—not in front of Sophie. And not at all, for that matter. She had refused his suit, and she no doubt would not appreciate any more of his attentions. He’d have to hope like hell he hadn’t impregnated her.

The thought of his child growing in her belly filled him with a raw and possessive need. To see her body change, to see a baby born with her chestnut hair… But no. It would be much better if she was not with child.

“Don’t be absurd. I can hardly have the two of you attending London society balls on the arms of a servant.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s just not done, that is why.” He turned and then looked back over his shoulder. “And I’ll not hear one more word about this.”

“Oh, you will hear more than one word about this,” came Alexandra’s voice from behind him. “You can be certain of that.”

Evan closed the door to the parlor a bit more loudly than he meant to. He walked quickly to his office on the first floor. His father, being aware of his business investments, had allowed him to use a room on the estate for his work. He sank down into his leather chair. The musky scent of cowhide wafted to his nose. What was he going to do about Alexandra? She never left his mind. Even when he was focused on work, still her visage tormented him behind his eyes, her berry scent always in his nose, and the touch of her skin a memory beneath his fingertips.

He shuffled some papers on his desk, looking for a particular file, when a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?” he said.

“It’s Graves, my lord.”

“Yes, Graves, do come in.”

Graves entered with an envelope. “This was just delivered for you.” He laid the message on the desk.

“Thank you,” Evan said. “Tell me, what has been going on about the estate while I’ve been gone?”

“It has been quiet, my lord. We did have one caller.”

“And who was that?”

“Mr. Nathan Landon. He came to call upon Lady Alexandra.”

Jealousy stirred in Evan’s gut. Why was Nathan Landon hanging around Alexandra? Landon was a notorious skirt chaser. The peers put up with him because he was a cousin to the Duke of Lybrook. He wasn’t sure why Lybrook himself had allowed his wife’s cousin to associate with Landon, knowing the type of man he was. An astute businessman, yes, and ni

ce enough—but Evan had seen Landon in many situations that even gentlemen of ill repute would not be seen in. Somehow, he had to steer Alexandra away from Landon. Keeping her out of London would be a good start, but what could he do about Landon coming to call?

In truth, he needed to resolve this problem at his printing business, but he could easily have one of his associates look into it. It was not a big enough issue to require his presence. God knew he wasn’t the first business owner to deal with the dregs of the city trying to use his business for their own gain. Still, it gave him an excuse to stay in Bath rather than travel to London for the remaining few weeks of the season. And that would keep Alexandra right here where she belonged.

“My lord?”

Evan jerked in his chair. He had quite forgotten that Graves still stood in front of him. “And anyone other than Mr. Landon?”

“No. As I said, it has been quiet.”

“Very well, then. You may go, Graves.”

The door had no sooner closed than Alexandra stormed in, her face red, her fists clenched, her beautiful lips trembling.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“I can’t imagine what about. Other than the fact that I’d appreciate a knock before you barge into my office.”

“You know damned well what we need to talk about. I am going to London. My friend is expecting me. And you promised to escort me to the end of the season balls.”

“Yes, I know that,” he said calmly. “However, as I said before, there is some unforeseen business that requires my attention.”


Tags: Helen Hardt Sex and the Season Erotic