"Welcome home, Your Grace."
Simon immediately knew something was wrong when he saw the normally unshakeable man wipe his sweaty brow. "Is something amiss, Billings?" he asked.
"You have a visitor." The butler gestured toward the closest sitting room.
From his spot in the corridor, Simon had a clear view of the room. The last person he'd ever expected to see here was Lily Rutledge. But there she was, sitting on his settee as though she belonged. With the moonful quickly approaching, that wasn't in her best interest. Simon glared at his butler. Had the man lost his mind? Miss Rutledge could be injured in his presence. "What is she doing here?"
Billings shrugged. "The London staff told her you were here."
Damn! Fight or retreat? He sighed.
Retreat. He couldn't see her. There was no telling what the beast would do.
"Ready the coach to take Miss Rutledge home, Billings." He turned and hastened toward his study.
Simon leaned heavily against the door once he was safely ensconced inside and turned the key. He took deep breaths to try to calm his racing heartbeat. She shouldn't have come. Not when he wasn't fully in control. He couldn't hide from the fullness of the moon. It would take him whether he wanted it or not. Sure, she was reasonably safe during the day, but when the sun sank behind the horizon, the danger would become more and more real.
He knew Lily Rutledge was a strong woman. She was nearly as tall as the average man, standing well above most females. But he wasn't an average man. She only reached his shoulder. He bet that he could tuck her under his chin and still have room to look down at her. He imagined himself doing just that, having her close enough to feel her body against his. He groaned and shifted his trousers.#p#分页标题#e#
No matter how strong she was, Simon would still hurt her. He slumped down in the seat behind his desk. As long as Lily remained safely on the other side, all was well.
But then he heard her voice.
"I know he's here, Billings," he heard her cry
from the hallway. Simon flinched when her fist hit the door.
"You will see me, Your Grace," she called.
What other woman, he wondered, could make "Your Grace" sound so much like an insult?
Two
Lily couldn't remember ever being so enraged. How dare the blackguard refuse to see her? How dare he hide out in his study? She pounded louder on the door. "I am not leaving until you see me."
Nothing.
Not a sound came from within. He was in there, wasn't he? She knew he was. She'd seen him vanish into the room with her very own eyes. Unless he'd climbed out a window, he could hear every word. Despite last month's mention in the society papers, where he was touted for slipping out Lady T.'s window while the butler helped the inebriated Lord T. to bed, she simply couldn't imagine him folding his big body in two and going out the window just to get away from her.
Lily crossed her arms over her chest. Really, who could imagine the powerful Duke of Blackmoor would be afraid to see her?
Over the years, ignoring her had apparently been easy for him, but that was when she was in Essex. Out of sight and all that. It took real effort to ignore her when she was pounding on his door. "I am a most stubborn woman," she warned him. "I'll wait right here as long as it takes, Your Grace."
Still nothing.
Lily jiggled the handle. Locked.
She heaved a sigh and leaned her head against the large oak door. She knew he could hear her, and she was at a loss. Perhaps talking to him would be easier without his penetrating grey eyes focused on her. What did she have to lose?
"I'm worried," she said softly. "Something is not right with Oliver and… Well, I know you don't care for the boy, but his father made you his guardian. So that means I'm stuck with you."
The door was suddenly yanked open, and Lily stumbled forward, right into the muscled arms of the Duke of Blackmoor. She sucked in a surprised breath. Men never held her in their arms. Yet his closed around her as he steadied her. She couldn't really call it holding her, since she'd fallen into him like a great oak tree whose roots had suddenly given way.
Lily froze. The heat of his body, coupled with the manly scent of him, was enough to knock her off her feet once more. She steadied herself by placing her hands on his chest. The muscles rippled beneath her fingers. She raised her eyes to his untied cravat and then to the open neck of his shirt, where an improper amount of skin was exposed. She'd never seen such an amazing sight. The light dusting of hair across his chest mesmerized her.
Lily realized that she was standing on her own two feet, yet his arms were still around her. With her great height, she looked most men in the eye. But she had to tip her head back to look up at Blackmoor. His warm, mint-scented breath blew across her face. Lily closed her eyes and inhaled.