Her mouth quirked in displeasure.
He had met Violet twice. The first time they had been introduced at a ball and briefly exchanged pleasantries. He had found her both charming and alluring. The second time had been when he had come to this very house several days ago with Rothschild in his quest to win back her older sister. They had exchanged words then. Unpleasant words.
You, she had said to him here in this exact entryway. Why are you here?
Because I like fireworks, he had answered.
It appeared she was prepared to repeat their exchange as she made her way to him. Taking hold of the door, she glanced into the entryway, taking note of the footman at the door before allowing her gaze to fall on Christian. “Lord Leigh,” she said, her voice low, giving it a smooth huskiness that rasped pleasantly across his ears. An elegant brow rose in question, and she stepped out of the room, drawing the door closed behind her. “What a surprise to see you here again.”
“Miss Crenshaw.” He inclined his head. “It would appear I cannot stay away for very long.” He teased her simply to see her flush with displeasure.
Her eyes flared in annoyance. “How lucky we are, my lord.” Her tone implied the opposite.
She was not above having her feelings known, even if she was refined enough to couch them in polite words. It had been years since he’d felt this spark of interest when talking with a woman. Despite his best intention at keeping it contained, a laugh escaped him.
Violet openly glared at him. “You find humor in that?”
“I was just thinking that I very much enjoy our encounters.”
She had the grace to blush as she undoubtedly recalled how angry she had been during their conversation here in this entryway. She had mistakenly believed Rothschild to be unfaithful to her sister and hadn’t held back her disappointment. Instead of being a good friend and pleading Rothschild’s case, Christian had baited her.
Swallowing, she asked, “Is there something you wanted, my lord?”
You. All of you.
“I am just leaving from a meeting with your father,” he said instead.
“Ah, then please do not allow me to keep you.”
Swirls of amber flame glittered at him from the depths of her brown eyes. No, he decided then and there, Ware would not have her. She was too good for the likes of him.
Inclining his head, he said, “Good day, Miss Crenshaw.”
“Good day, my lord.” She opened the door and stepped back into the room.
He crossed the entryway, aware of the weight of her gaze on his back when he had expected her to close the door between them immediately. The footman opened the front door for him, but instead of stepping out, Christian glanced back at her. She was staring at his shoulders, her gaze slowly moving down his back. The glaze of attraction in her eyes was unmistakable.
She flushed when she realized he had caught her and closed the door firmly between them.
He stared at the lacquered wood grain for the space of a few heartbeats. He knew because he felt each of them as his blood rushed through his body. Talking with her always had the effect of making him more aware of himself and less aware of everything around him, except for her.
Finally, the footman made a nervous sound in the back of his throat. As Christian walked out to his carriage, he decided that he would bypass her parents in his bid to win her. They were set against him, so it made much more sense to approach the woman herself. It would not be easy given the unfavorable impression of him she had thanks to Rothschild, or perhaps she had heard murmurs of his past, but he could overcome that. It would be a simple matter of finding her heart’s desire and giving it to her. Then she would be his.
Harper St. George was raised in the rural backwoods of Alabama and along the tranquil coast of northwest Florida. It was a setting filled with stories of the old days that instilled in her a love of history, romance, and adventure. By high school, she had discovered the historical romance novel, which combined all of those elements into one perfect package. She has been hooked ever since. She lives in the Atlanta area with her family and loves to hear from readers.
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The Heiress Gets a Duke Page 32