However, he heard a familiar voice, a thick English accent, and in seconds changed his mind. Phillip took the rest of the stairs in a few rushed steps.
“I have it, Keating.” Phillip walked up along his butler and smiled at the man standing there.
Lucien St. Martin, Marquess of Heartstone.
“Saint,” he said with affection as he stepped up to hug his friend. A gesture that was returned. As they separated, Phillip looked behind the marquess. “Where is Ciara?”
“Visiting family in Ireland.”
Phillip frowned and sent his friend a look of concern. “Everything all right?”
The man nodded.
“Come on in. Keating, get us some food. We will be in my study. And make up a room for Lord Heartstone.”
“Right away, sir.”
He led the way to his study and poured them each a drink. Leaning against his desk, he hooked his ankles and took a sip. “How the hell are you, Saint?”
His friend pushed a hand through his dark hair and nodded. “Perfect.”
That familiar pang of jealousy hit Phillip, as he knew his friend had found love and was loved. By a woman who was a perfect match for him. Even despite the long road it had taken for them to get back to each other, when he watched them now, he knew there could be no other for either of them.
“The kids? I just purchased some gifts for them but now I can send them back with you.” He took another drink. “What are you doing here?”
Lucien walked around the room, his presence larger than the man himself, which was saying a lot.
Phillip couldn’t help but remember how they had all been, before. Whores, mistresses, no regard for much of anything other than their own pleasure. Then Lucien had met Ciara and his entire world had shifted. Their friend Rafe had fallen for Lucien’s sister and soon it had been just Phillip who was on the outside looking in at the happiness his friends embodied.
Not to mention his friends had welcomed their new lives with open arms. He loved the children and looked upon them as his own in a manner. He would protect them without hesitation or fail. He’d come to this island as a favor to assist a man whose son was being threatened. That man, his woman and their children were also included in his circle of protection and friendship. However, he hadn’t gone back to England. No, instead he’d stayed. Purchased the house, and hadn’t considered returning there.
“You have not come home.” Lucien turned to look at him, the sun surrounding him from the window behind him. “I, we, have become concerned.”
“My lord,” Keating interrupted. “Ms. Gwen is insisting on an audience.”
“Ms. Gwen is here.” Her tone was sharp.
She’d never been so angry in her entire life. The nerve of these men. Fyre had passed the point of caring what was proper. No one, either the man she worked for or brother, had the right to try to run her life as these two were doing.
Fyre glared across the room to the man leaning on the front of his desk, drink in position of rest beside one powerful thigh. His expression showed his shock.
But beneath that, what was she spying? Amusement? Yes, that’s exactly what that was.
“My lord, while I understand I work for you in a small capacity, that does not in any way give you the right to discuss my life or my living habits, or tell people that you are going to be the only person I work for.”
His lips twitched. “Spoke to your brother about our discussion, did you?”
“Both of you, so smug. Acting as if you are doing me a favor. I work hard. I am damn good at my job. So what if I am a woman, and a woman of darker skin? It does not hamper the way I work.”
He held up his hands, the motion drawing her attention to the strength in his fingers and the way the sun glinted through the crystal he held. “I never said it did. Your brother came to me—”
“I am perfectly aware of my brother’s actions with you earlier in the day. Both of you are out of line. I think it will be best for all involved for me to stop working for you as well as Mr. Caulfield, and I will make my money elsewhere.”
“No!”
She stepped back at the fervent refusal that burst from his mouth.
Fyre propped her hands on her hips. “Contrary to how people view you, my lord, you do not control this island. Or me. I work for who I want. He wanted me to quit working for Mr. Caulfield, now he is all about me quitting here, or being let go and working only for Mr. Caulfield.”
“Can you say that with any more disdain, Fyre?” He pushed up from the desk and moved toward her. Prowling. Exuding danger on a level she wasn’t positive she could deal with. “I get it, you have no use for my title.”