Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
An answer she received the moment she stepped into the room.
Bryn.
He lifted his head when she walked in, raked his gaze over her then focused back on the plate in front of him.
She faltered, not wanting to interrupt his meal. And for the purely simple fact that looking at him made her mind blank and her words scramble to form coherent sentences. Especially when it was only the two of them.
Like now.
Sure, he sat at the table, but there wasn’t any way to hide the power this man contained within him. Something wild and untamable lingered beneath the surface, she could see it as sure as she could see snow on the ground from her room window. It was part of his makeup.
Coiled. Always alert. Dangerous.
Yet I still want permission to pet him.
His white shirt stretched taut over broad shoulders and muscled arms in a way she wasn’t used to seeing. For sure, the men in her household didn’t have that issue. He didn’t have a hat on, so she was able to take in the jet-black hair that he’d not contained in a queue and subsequently floated around his shoulders, the ends having a slight curl to them, like they were still wet strands and didn’t want to disturb his skin with something so menial as dampness.
She swallowed hard and scrunched her toes within her house slippers, determined not to make an ass out of herself.
“Apologies, my lord. I didn’t mean to disturb.”
The door clicked behind her and she realized they were still completely alone. Even more now, given the maid had made herself scarce.
“Sit down, Rosamunde. Get some food and join me.” He lifted his head and she sucked in a sharp breath at the intensity simmering in his blue eyes.
She didn’t move, simply stared back at him. Without releasing her gaze, he sat up, draped an arm over the back of his chair and gave her a lazy grin. Behind the material of his shirt, his muscles flexed as he shifted while watching her.
One grin I suppose he gives to all the women he flirts with.
“You’re not scared to be alone with me, are you, lioness?”
Most definitely. Because I find myself liking you more and more with every interaction we have.
Lifting her chin, she went to the sideboard and picked a small portion of potatoes and a single pastry. At the table, she set her plate down and had moved to pull out her chair, when he was suddenly up and beside her.
“Hell no.”
Eyes wide, she stepped back, stumbling until he wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her flush to him. His eyes dropped to her lips and back up.
“You need to eat more than this, baby. I imagine I’ll have to fill a plate for you every day.” He set her on her feet. “And you’re sitting next to me. I don’t want to yell across the table. “
He walked away and piled up her plate to his satisfaction. She had just sat in the chair beside his when he returned and placed it in front of her with a thump. He’d loaded it with meats, fruits, breads and more.
“I don’t need to eat this much. My—”
“Don’t argue, eat.”
Eat? She was still trying to interpret his statement about doing it every day.
He sat with far more grace than a man his size should. A forkful of food paused on the way to his mouth before he moved it before her, the delicious aroma from it causing her belly to clench.
“Unless you’d like me to feed you.”
Those damn blue eyes burned with a heat she’d feel for years to come. Bryn waggled his eyebrows at her. Her stomach repeated the action for an entirely different reason this time. Because…yes! She would love to have him feed her.
“I’d love to show you how much fun we could have feeding one another.”
Telling her body to calm down, she centered herself, aware once again—after a fashion—he was teasing her. She leaned closer to him.
“I’ve been using utensils for a lot of years on my own now.”
He brushed the back of his hand down the side of her face. “Baby, it’s not about using a fork, but my fingers, sliding in and out of your mouth, having them get slick with your—”
She slapped a hand over his mouth, skin hotter than she could recall. Squealing when he flicked his tongue along her palm, she shook her head.
“You have got to stop talking like that.”
“Why? You’re wanting me to set you up with someone to show you pleasure.”
She cleared her throat.
“We also need to get the details figured out while you’re here this weekend. I head for America soon and I want to make sure I’ve held up my end of the bargain.” He inched closer to her. “And that you’re satisfied.”