Page 43 of The Lady Tempts an Heir
Good. He was annoyed and irritated, too. After thecarriage had dropped him at his parents’ house, he’d been unable to find a moment of peace. Instead of going to bed, he had walked here, and he was starting to realize how impulsive the act had been. “You ran away. I had to come find you.”
Setting his hat and gloves on the mantelpiece, he held his hands up to the flame, savoring the warmth as she looked for somewhere to put his coat that wouldn’t ruin her furniture. She was in her nightclothes, an eventuality that he hadn’t considered when he’d first set out to see her. He shouldn’t look, but he couldn’t help but watch her from the corner of his eyes as she hurried around the room. The nightdress and dressing gown ensemble was white flannel, thick to guard against the cold night. There was absolutely nothing provocative about them, except for the fact that she was wearing them. Except for the fact that they clung to her body, the skirts swishing about her legs. He could plainly see the swell of her breasts, the outline of her hips, and the curve of her buttocks. Worse, he knew that she was naked beneath her clothes. He would find nothing but warm, soft skin if he reached beneath them.
He took a deep breath and stared at the flames, lust and leftover fury burning him up from the inside as a coil of longing began to twist and tighten in his belly. No one could make him as simultaneously frustrated and aroused as she could.
Finally deciding on the chair at the little desk he had seen her use to write letters and where a stack of newspapers were kept, she pulled it toward the fireplace and draped his coat over it so that it could at least begin to dry in the few minutes he would be here.
“I left because you were being a brute.” Her voice was low but laced with steel. Now that her initial shock was wearing off, he could see her anger returning. Her defenses were up again. She crossed her arms over her chest, and he tried not to look, but he couldn’t help but watch as the flannel pulled against the curves of her hips.
“A brute? You all but attacked me, because I am committed to doing what is best for August and Crenshaw Iron.”
She rolled her eyes, and aggravation simmered through his veins. “You are hiding behind your sister instead of addressing the very good points I brought up at dinner. The fact of the matter is that without that building, people will suffer.”
He turned toward her before he could rein in his emotions. “No, the fact of the matter is that you could find another building if you wanted. It may not be there, and it may be outside London, but there are other options. There are always other options.”
“The world doesn’t operate in your narrow scope of reality, Mr. Crenshaw.”
He bristled at that. He liked it when she called him Maxwell instead of injecting this artificial formality between them. Nothing had ever been formal and proper between them. “So we are back toMr. Crenshawagain. I thought when you said it over dinner it was because you were angry.”
“I was angry. I am still angry, because you don’t seem to even care to try to understand. These women and children won’t come to us if they think our only goal is to cart them off to another part of England. London is their home, and they have every right to it, just like any other Londoner. The objective is to change from within, to improve their lives by improving their homes, not pulling them away from everything they’ve ever known.”
He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. This was getting them nowhere, and she was partially right. He didn’t understand, because they had never talked about her plans beyond their surface. When he opened his eyes, she was breathing just as hard as he was, her breasts rising and falling. She had braided her hair for bed, and it had fallen over her shoulder, making her look attainable somehow, asif she were not the cool and detached Lady Helena March but the much more touchable Helena.
“You’re right in that I don’t understand everything you’re doing, and I am sorry for charging in like this,” he began, forcing his voice to stay calm. “I went home fully expecting to pay a call tomorrow, but I couldn’t let this wait.”
“You walked from your parents’ house in the rain to tell me I am being unreasonable?”
“Well, I didn’t want to rouse the driver to do it,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Besides, I couldn’t let him drop me off out front, not at this hour, and if he left me at the mews, that would look even worse.”
She stared at him in bewilderment, as if she was unable to decide if he were telling the truth or jesting. Her lips were parted, and he wanted to drag her into his arms and kiss her. It was a wildly inappropriate thought, but even so, excitement swirled in his stomach and he clenched his teeth to keep from acting on the impulse as he forced his gaze anywhere but on her.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said. “What if I had been in bed?”
There was a subtle shift in her tone when she asked. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but she wasn’t angry anymore. Not like before. This was softer. His eyebrow quirked upward as he glanced toward her, as if half-afraid of what he’d see. There was a glint of wickedness in her eyes. The same one that came to life in their previous sparring sessions. She was playing with him. His blood thickened in response, making his body feel heavy and languid, half-aroused already.
“Yes, I thought of that. Thankfully, I saw your lamp on.” He indicated the sconce on the wall.
“What if all had been dark?”
He shrugged, his feet taking the smallest step toward her. “I thought I might throw pebbles at your window.”
“Do you even know which one is my bedroom window?”
“Not yet.”
She shivered, the movement subtle enough that he might not have seen it had he not been watching her closely. Her eyes darkened, the pupils growing larger in arousal. God, he wanted her. That need frightened him. After a decade of indulging himself in only the most casual of sexual experiences, he felt that this could be something deeper.
“I didn’t come here to argue,” he said, realizing he needed to get to his reason for visiting so late. Perhaps Montague would still be open, and he could go there afterward to work off his excess energy. “I told Sir Phineas that I want you to have the priory.”
“What?” Her body drew back as if her disbelief had propelled her into motion.
“Helena, both of our projects will benefit many people. I...” He paused and took in a breath. He’d been taught all his life that being vulnerable in any way was an undesirable thing. But she deserved to know that she had changed his mind. “Despite how it seems, I heard what you said; your argument was sound. I couldn’t live with myself knowing that those women and children were without a home when I could have done something to stop it.”
“What about your contracts... and the...” She looked as if she could hardly think straight. Her body was almost trembling with nervous energy. A smile tugged at his lips to see her on the verge of coming undone, but he was wise enough to quell the urge. “And the industrial compound... August? What about August and the dock?”
He took a step toward her and gently took hold of her shoulders. “After you left, I stayed and talked with Sir Phineas. We discussed his suggestion... the benefits of Crenshaw Iron taking over the rest of the compound with the priory going to your home. He seemed to truly want that scenario to work out.”
“Because you talked him into it?” A line of disappointment formed between her brows.
