Page 87 of Sloth: The Fallen Earl
His long, thick lashes dipped. But before they did, she detected the spark of desire in his eyes.
“I’ve never been in the company of a woman who spoke as freely and bluntly as you.”
They were similar in that regard. He was the only man she’d spoken freely and bluntly to.
Her heart fluttered. The way he spoke. The way he looked at her. It was the way in which she’d always dreamed of him looking at her—as if he longed for her, as if he admired her.
“That is, with the exception of my sisters.”
Good Lord and hell. All her fanciful romantic musings popped like a bubble. He’d likened her to his sisters.
“No lady aside from them has ever spoken to me—”
She cut him off. “Do you go about likening all your former lovers to your sisters?” she snapped, miserably.
He was at her side in a heartbeat. He caressed a fingertip across her lips.
Cressida’s mouth trembled.
When he spoke, there was a smile in his voice. “People speak honestly with family, Cressida.”—Not hers. Not if she wished to avoid a sound beating.—“Ladies of the peerage don’t assert themselves with gentleman and I find it…” The way he might worship a treasured artifact, Benedict trailed his gaze overher face. “Refreshing.” His expression darkened. “I desire you. Cressida, I want you. I’mfascinatedby you.”
Her heart forgot its function.
His gaze again found her lips.
He is going to kiss me.She saw it in his eyes. This wasn’t a man who’d run from her last night out of disgust. This was a man who wanted her, and that proved even more dangerous to her than the alternative. This time, it was Cressida who bolted.
“I have to go,” she blurted. In her haste to put distance between them, she tripped over herself. She also steadied herself before he could. “If you will excuse me.”
Confusion darkened his eyes—for but a second.
A muscle ticked at the corner of his mouth. “And where exactly is it you are going, Cressida?”
High-handed Benedict she knew how to be around. The man who desired Cressida left her unsteady.
“What are you going to do, my lord?” she shot back with a question of her own. “Order me about? Lock me indoors again?”
Color suffused his cheeks. He gritted out between tightly clenched teeth, “That was never my intention.”
“No, it just read as your intention.”
“Why am I not permitted to ask where you are going.”
“Why do you need to know?” She shot back.
“Can it not be that I’m simply concerned about you?”
His exclamation brought her reeling back on her heels. The power and intensity with which he spoke lent the most meaning to his avowal.
“I…” She searched for words, but didn’t know what to say or how to respond. Aside from Trudy, there wasn’t anyone around anymore to worry about her.
The tension left his features. “Are you truly so surprised that I would worry about you?”
She managed something that was a cross between a nod and a shake of her head. Then she recalled…
“The maybe-babe,” she whispered more to herself.
His frown returned. “No, about you, Cressida. I’m concerned about you.”
