Page 36 of Her Rogue to Ruin
Last night, he’d hied out of her studio like a man whose conscience was nipping at him. Clearly, he had doubts too.
But as the hour approached ten, it felt as ifhe’dbeen the one to choose to avoid her.
So she secured her paints and brushes and set his barely begun portrait aside, preparing to return to her aunt’s.
That’s when she heard the soft raps against her studio door.
Face him. That’s what you vowed to do.She steeled herself for a conversation that she already knew could not end well.
When she opened the door to him, he presented her with flowers. Violets that gave off a subtle but lovely scent.
“I suspected you might have given up on me, so I brought these as a gift of apology.”
“It seems to be the day for tardy Pembertons,” Portia said, trying to ease the tension she already sensed between them. “But I’m afraid I’ve put everything away, and it’s quite late. Do you really want a sitting tonight?”
“No, but I would like to speak to you if you’ll spare me a few moments.”
Portia stepped aside so he could enter the studio, and then waited while he gazed around almost fondly. Whatever he’d come to say, he wasn’t eager to get it out, it seemed.
But, of course, Portia already suspected why.
“Is it that you wish to cancel your commission?” For the first time since beginning her business venture, she would not begrudge a client for changing their mind after the work had commenced.
Both of them had complicated the matter last evening.
“Yes,” he said roughly. “But not for the reason you think.”
“You can read my mind now, can you?”
He smiled at that, a flash of white before he turned serious again. “I think I’d like that, but no. I’m being presumptuous and bungling this before I’ve begun.” He sighed, his broad shoulders slumping a bit and then lifted his gaze locked on hers. “Let me begin again?”
“All right.”
“I no longer want you to paint me for the purposes I commissioned you.” He cleared his throat. “I no longer plan to pursue Mrs. Grove.”
“Oh.” Portia swallowed and felt a pleasant heat begin to kindle in her middle. “May I ask why?”
He arched one dark brow, and the hint of a smirk hitched up the edge of his sensual mouth. “Last evening is why.”
“Our kiss?” She needed him to be precise. She still didn’t quite understand.
“Portia.” He drew closer. So close she had to tip up her head to keep her gaze on his. “I no longer want to be anyone’s lover but yours.” His jaw tightened. “And I’m sorry, but I do not wish to give you lessons in seduction unless you plan to use them on me.”
An unbidden giggle bubbled up, and Portia clasped a hand over her mouth.
“I’m glad this amuses you, if nothing else,” he said with a half-wounded expression.
Portia reached for him then. She couldn’t resist. He had just admitted to wanting to be her lover, after all.
As soon as she curled her fingers around the lapel of his overcoat, he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“So we’re to be lovers?” she asked him because she wished to hear him say it again.
“If you’ll have me.” He bent to kiss her, and Portia reached up to twine her hands around his neck.
She poured the yearning she’d felt for him for months into the kiss, letting herself be overeager, hoping he felt how much she wanted this. Phin didn’t seem to mind that her kisses were more passionate than practiced. He stroked her back, supporting her weight as he leaned her against the door he’d just stepped through.
“Your scent, your voice, those pretty eyes of yours,” he murmured before dipping his head to kiss her neck, nuzzling and nipping at her skin. “I think of nothing but you. Of having you, no matter the consequences.”
