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Did she read a connection between me and her son?

“I played that piece. Not as good as you.” She turned and was met by a tall man. “Oh, Reynard, nice to see you. I was just talking to the maid. She knows her way around Debussy, it seems.”

The tall, red-haired man, who’d propositioned me at the dinner party, approached the piano and signalled for me to continue.

I wasn’t used to an audience, and with those cool, undressing eyes all over me, my fingers trembled.

I stopped. “Sorry, you’re making me nervous.”

“You’re not just a pretty face, I see,” he said, staring down at my thighs. Being a warm day and not expecting people, I’d dressed in shorts and a tank top.

The tank top unfortunately gaped at the neckline, and I could feel his eyes all over my breasts.

“Let’s have some afternoon tea,” Mrs. Lovechilde said.

He turned away and walked out of the room. I took a deep a breath, got up and closed the door and then continued to work on my piece.

Justin, a student about my age, came up to me just as I stepped onto the college grounds.

He’d been running and sounded puffed. “Hey, Thea, we’re having a little get-together tomorrow night at the Thirsty Mariner. You know, the pub in the village?”

I nodded slowly. Tomorrow night seemed like a lifetime away. What was I doing? Or more specifically, what did Declan have in mind?

Seven days together. We’d seen each other every night. He always initiated of course. I was still stunned, I think. This whole romantic episode felt like a dream.

I’d promised myself to get a life. And mingling with fellow students seemed like a good start.

“Sure, that sounds like fun,” I said.

“Great. It will be nice to have a drink and a chat. You’re killing the practical. You’re a great musician.”

I smiled. “Thank you. I’ve only just started playing again. There’s a piano where I work.”

“You work at the Lovechildes’ estate, I hear.” His dark eyes shone with interest.

“I do. I live in the servants’ quarters. It works out really well for me. And I love Bridesmere. The coast is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? I’d like to move to London though. Once I get my certificate, that’s where I’m heading.”

A familiar SUV drove by. Dark windows, but I knew the car well enough. Although I’d ridden to school, sometimes Declan came by to offer me a lift.

My phone pinged. “Excuse me.”

The message read: “Lift?”

I looked over at the car. He’d parked down the street behind a tree. Nice and discreet.

“Um… I best be going. Tomorrow then, at the pub.”

“Yep. Seven o’clock at the Mariner.” His eyes held mine for a moment, and I sensed attraction.

I smiled and left him, then collected my bike.

Having parked in front of a large peppercorn tree, Declan jumped out and opened the back for my bike. He lifted it like it was a toy, those muscles rippling through his fitted T-shirt, and the swelling between my legs started again.

It was as though I was in a constant state of arousal, even when he wasn’t around. He hadn’t taken his hands off me all week. Every night. He’d send me a text, and I’d ride over like a woman possessed.

I’m not sure whether he’d take a “No.” There was a determination in his eyes.


Tags: J.J. Sorel Billionaire Romance