The Burlington Manor Affair

by Saskia Walker

  He set a heaped plate in front of her. “I requested beef bourguignon. I seem to recall it was one of your favorites, and Cook confirmed that it was.”

  Startled, she nodded. She noticed he called Mrs. Summerfield “Cook” the way his dad had. “I should have gone to see her, Mrs. Summerfield, as soon I got here.” She spoke the thought aloud, and then realized it was because she’d been derailed by Rex’s presence.

  “She’s on part-time hours now but she’ll be back in the morning. She was looking forward to seeing you again, much like the rest of us.”

  If he continued to be this charming it was going to be hard to maintain a reserved facade. When she looked down at the food she wondered how she could manage any of it, rattled as she was by his presence and his intentions. Tension racked her, and that wasn’t all. Every time he came close to her or even looked at her, she burned up with self-awareness. It was the possessive look in his eyes while she wore the dress he had chosen for her. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he would look at her as if he owned her, just because she had granted his request and worn the item. It had been a stupid mistake on her behalf, capitulating.

  He served himself, then returned to the captain’s seat at the head of the table, opposite her. They were some eight feet apart and yet he managed to make her feel his presence without much effort at all. It stimulated her in every way. Devastatingly attractive and predatory, it was as if he was stalking his next sexual prey. She couldn’t help being aware of it and responding to him. She was a woman, after all. What she wanted to do was control that female response to him with her mind. It had to be possible, surely?

  He looked so much at home. It irritated her. “How long is it since you bothered to come back here?”

  Rex stared across her, a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth as if he was amused by the terseness in her question. “Eight years or so, isn’t it?”

  Carmen knew exactly how long it was.

  “Why didn’t you come back to the house after your father’s funeral?” She was very curious about that.

  “People were treating me like the prodigal returned. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be that.” He picked up his fork and began to eat.

  “The staff and the villagers are bound to feel that way about you, whether you stay or not.”

  The frown he wore made her wonder. Did he feel as if he would be letting them down, not keeping the manor in the Carruthers family?

  The beef was succulent and she managed to eat a little, even though the tension she felt made it difficult. The champagne helped, so she concentrated on that.

  “It’s almost three years since I moved out,” she told him. “I left to be with my aunt shortly after Mum’s funeral. I came back once a year, on the anniversary of her accident. Your dad met me at the station and we walked up to the graveyard together, catching up on each other’s news as we went.”

  Rex rested back in his chair and listened.

  “He’d always take me for lunch in the pub in the village afterward and then put me back on the train. I didn’t see the house again until the day of his funeral.” She glanced around. “Very little has changed, though.”

  “Mmm, some things don’t seem to have changed at all since I was last here.” He gazed at her, and again she felt the inference in his words. Was he talking about the fascination they used to have for each other all those years ago?

  “I used to love this place,” he continued. “When I was a kid, it was great running around the corridors and the grounds. It was home then, but it didn’t last. When I was about eight years old my father told me about the dark side of mortmain, the dreaded responsibility of inheriting an old estate, the curse of the aristocracy. He predicted that I’d have it as a young man, and he was right. He told me he’d experienced it and he’d grown out of it.”

  Carmen froze. Was Rex stating that he’d grown out of that sense of mortmain now, or what? Carmen wasn’t sure but it made her uneasy. She concentrated on the food for a moment, cautiously weighing her words. “It’s interesting that he warned you about it. I suppose he had to. An estate like this is capital intensive and Burlington Manor doesn’t generate a whole lot of cash. He was obviously trying to prepare you for what it entails.”

  Responsibility—responsibility that he had walked away from. Rex’s business was young, and it needed money putting in, not taking out. She’d done her research and she knew how he stood financially. Not in bad shape, but not in a position to take on a cash sink like this place, not right now. The business she now owned was much more well-established and lucrative, and she could take the manor on and run it without making it anything other than what it was—a beautiful family home, a jewel in the Oxfordshire countryside.

  “Absolutely,” Rex replied, “the manor is a hungry beast.”

  He pushed his plate aside and rose to his feet. He lifted the cover from the dessert platters and carried the dishes over to her. “Strawberries and cream. Still good?”

  It surprised her that he remembered her preferences.

  She nodded.

  He set the platters down, picked up a plump strawberry from the stack, dipped it into the dish of stiffly peaked cream and brought it to her mouth. He lifted his eyebrows expectantly.

  Carmen inhaled sharply. She snatched the fruit from his fingers. “Get to the point. You’ve dragged me up here on a ridiculous scheme because you’re bored. Name your price and let’s get on with our lives.”

  “Bored?” He laughed. It was so long since she’d heard the sound, and yet it was so familiar. “No, I’m not bored. Far too busy to be bored, but I’ve made time for this.”

  “Why are you doing this, Rex? You don’t want the house. You never did.”

  He returned to his seat. “Perhaps I need to be sure.”

  So he did want it. Carmen felt her heart sink. She wasn’t about to give up, though. “You’ve brought me here under false pretenses.”

  “Have I?” The way he smiled, so knowingly, was unbearable.

  “You said you were willing to do a deal, to pass ownership. I mean to buy you out.” Her face heated when she realized that she’d inadvertently referred to the ludicrous offer he’d made.

  Rex stared across at her. There was such deliberation flickering in those eyes of his. “I did mention a deal.”

  “And I told you I came here to discuss a monetary exchange.” She shot the response back quickly, eager to clarify.

  “I’m not interested in the monetary exchange. You knew that, and yet you still came.” He lounged back in his chair, and ran his fingers along the edge of the table while he observed her.

  “Might I remind you that I own fifty percent of this property. That’s why I came.”

  “And you want to own one hundred percent.”

  “Exactly.” She narrowed her eyes at him. It was imperative that she stress her seriousness on the matter.

  “My offer remains the same. Four weekends in my bed, during which time I can have you—sexually, any way I choose. That’s my deal. Take it or leave it.”

  He’d said it again, as if it was so simple. The idea of it shocked her to the core, but it was undeniably arousing. Desire flared at his suggestion, intense and palpable.

  Rex cocked his head. “If I’m not mistaken, the idea interests you.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “I’ll give you the property outright at the end of the time.”

  Carmen fumed silently as she considered her reply. Even while she searched for ways to emphatically deny him, her mind and body launched a wave of erotic scenarios on her, sending her libido wild. Stray, errant questions forced their way into her consciousness. Why not? It was just sex. Haven’t you always wanted him? No, it would be fatal. She couldn’t afford the heartache. The logical part of her, the businesswoman, reminded her that Rex had his obli
gations in the racing circuit. If she could bargain with him for a sale, then the house would be hers. “I insist you consider a more rational exchange. I’m not giving in to such an outrageous whim on your behalf.”

  “No?” He inclined his head at her. “You already appear to be giving in to my whims...as you call them...by degrees.” He nodded at the dress she was wearing.

  Carmen bristled, regretting the so-called gesture of goodwill he’d requested.

  “It’s only a matter of time,” he continued. “We both know that. It’s always been a matter of time before you and I ended up in bed together.”

  Carmen gave a dismissive laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not some bimbo you can toy with and then cast aside.”

  “On that point we are agreed. You’re definitely no bimbo. Alas, that makes you all the more attractive to me.”

  His dangerous charm had not faded one iota. Instead, his devious talent had magnified and he wielded it with ease and cunning. A master of seduction, he thought he could have any woman he wanted.

  “Tell me,” he added, “if you don’t want to sleep with me, why did you come here?”

  Try as she might, Carmen couldn’t summon a response—because she wanted him, wanted him so badly that she felt as if she’d lost her mind. How could it be even worse than before?

  She hated him for it. Her pride was in danger, but even though she felt it slipping away she couldn’t muster the strength to hold on to it.

  The sight of him made her weak with lust.

  It hadn’t gone away, and now it was even worse.

  It was completely unmanageable.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE BRITTLE TENSION Carmen gave off failed to dim her beauty. Instead, it drew Rex to her. It made him want her even more. This situation with the ownership of the estate was, quite simply, the perfect opportunity to pursue her. Never had he felt so eager and willing to be here at the house.

  The startled look in her eyes accentuated her fragility and her unusual looks. Those dark chocolate eyes of hers were so expressive, and the way her hair was cut, tapered under the jaw, seemed to emphasize that even more. She’d matured into a lovely creature and the old craving he’d harbored for her suddenly felt insignificant compared to what was stacking up now.

  He had to have her.

  She wanted it, too, much as she denied it. She was here, for a start. She could have negotiated through a solicitor but she’d come, knowing what he wanted. They both knew why. Something had been triggered between them years ago and it had to be burned out in the only way possible—by thrashing it out between the sheets.

  The dress she wore looked like a bespoke wrapping on the most desirable of possessions, and he fully intended to be the one to unwrap her. It hadn’t occurred to him that she wouldn’t be able to wear a bra with it. The dress was backless, though, and he could see her nipples outlined by the clingy, silky material. Rex congratulated himself on a good buy. He’d bought the dress on impulse, because he’d seen it in a shop front in Milan’s design quarter three years earlier and it had instantly made him think of her. Carmen, his elegant little flyaway bird. He’d kept the dress all this time, not even knowing whether he’d ever have the opportunity to give her the gift, because it felt like a connection with her, the connection that had been absent from his life for so long.

  Carmen was the one who’d got away. Not anymore. Circumstances had got in the way, but now the little bird had fluttered back to him, and he was determined to see her relinquish that fiercely held mask of independence she wore and admit the desire that had existed between them for so long.

  “This is a ludicrous situation.” She stood up, throwing the napkin she’d had clutched in her hand down onto the table. As she turned and headed for the door, he rose to his feet and put his hand out in her path, easily halting her in her tracks as she broke for the door.

  A warning flashed in her eyes. She trembled visibly.

  “Easy,” he urged, and drew her in against him.

  For a moment she kept her eyes lowered, as if she couldn’t bear to look at him, but he could see the pulse at the base for throat was beating wildly, her breasts rising and falling rapidly beneath the dress.

  Her eyelids flashed up, and she stared at him boldly. “Rex, please don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t try to break free, though, and it felt good to have his hands on her. She stared up at him, her dark eyes luminescent. So enticing. When her lips parted, he bent his head to kiss her.

  At first she stiffened, and her mouth remained immobile beneath his. The resistance was momentary, though, and he felt her soften in his embrace, her lips parting beneath his.

  That barrier breached, Rex’s hunger for her flared. Too long he’d waited for this, wanting her, and now he had her. He locked one hand on her waist. With the other he cupped the back of her head as he kissed her deeply.

  Carmen’s hands went to his chest, but they fisted there. Even while she opened her mouth to take his tongue she pressed hard against him with those fists and moaned her resistance into his mouth.

  Her hair was soft and silky in his fingers, while the curve of her waist made his hands ache to rove over her, to outline her every curve. He wanted to explore, touch and taste every part of her.

  As the kiss deepened, her body trembled—which only made his grip on her tighten. He wanted to keep his little bird, win her trust and make her sing out with pleasure.

  First she was warm and supple in relinquishment, and then she was all fire and brimstone in his arms, clutching at his shirt with eager hands and arching her body to his.

  He moaned his pleasure aloud.

  She froze and drew back, breaking the kiss.

  Desire pounded at the base of his spine, his cock semi-risen as his body readied to get closer still.

  “Why not?” He repeated his question.

  “I can’t. I can’t sell myself, least of all to you.” She turned her face away.

  He shifted, lowering his head to kiss the soft skin exposed beneath her ear when her hair fell back. As his lips made contact with the warm surface, she moaned and shifted in his arms.

  “You want to do this. We both want to do this. We wanted to do it back then, we want it now. That situation’s not going to end until we have each other.”

  She shook her head but he could see the truth in her eyes, the repressed emotion and the obsessive desire that he was certain mirrored his own. Carmen had always had the most expressive eyes. It was one of the many things that drew him to her. He felt as if a lifetime of experiences and sensations were offered to him, just by looking into those eyes of hers. His most abiding desire was to be doing that very thing while he brought her to orgasm. Repeatedly.

  He continued to soothe her with his hands. “I can’t think of a single reason not to.”

  “I can. Bloody hell, Rex. I have my pride.” She tugged free of his grip and stared at him wildly.

  The desire that he’d harbored for this woman belted through him with a fury in the face of her denial. He had to have her. He ached for the sweetness she possessed. Reckoning with himself, he tried to keep his cool, he didn’t want to frighten her. She would relinquish, he knew she would. She was as programmed for this as he was, but the bitter sweetness of her resistance threatened to turn him into a Neanderthal. “What about that time in the conservatory? You wanted me then, didn’t you?”

  She eyed him disbelievingly.

  Tension ratcheted between them.

  A red flash flared across her cheekbones. She shook her head, denying him. “We were stoned. You brought that potent stuff from university and I’d never had anything like it.”

  He shrugged. “True enough. It got rid of a few inhibitions for sure, but what was left behind, hmm? The honest to God tr
uth of what we were to each other, what we still are.”

  Her eyes squeezed shut. “No!”

  “No? You weren’t thinking ‘no’ when you were on your back and pulling me over you.”

  She turned her face away and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Was it distress, or embarrassment? He had to know. “No, there’s no escape from that day, is there?” Obviously she couldn’t deny it, so he said it aloud. “Let’s see if I can recall...ah, yes. ‘I want you, Rex,’ that’s what you said.”

  “That was then,” she shot back. “I was a stupid teenager with a crush on you.” She glared at him as if she hated him for pulling that moment apart. “I’ve come to my senses since then.”

  If she’d come to her senses, then what was this about—the trembling, the barely held sexual desire he saw in her? Rex resisted the urge to argue that point some more and got serious instead. “Oh, come now, Carmen, can you honestly say it’s gone away?”

  He closed on her, cupped her jaw, forcing her to look him in the eye.

  She did so, stubbornly, but she didn’t say a word.

  His hand slid down her throat and, when it did, her eyelids lowered and her head tipped back.

  That action—so simple, so telling—triggered something inside him.

  With his free hand he captured both her wrists together and locked her hands to his chest.

  She whimpered and looked at him from under heavy lids.

  “You can’t deny it, can you?” He laughed softly, his libido sensing victory. “And you like this.” He tightened his grip on her wrists, lifting them easily so that her arms were clearly in his grasp. “This makes it even more tempting for you, doesn’t it?”

  Her eyes rolled and a low moan emitted from deep in her throat. It sounded earthy, primal, and Rex mirrored those reactions. Gone was the ladylike front, her cool exterior.

  “Not tempting,” she retorted in a low warning tone, “easier.”

  He cocked his head, curious.

  She flashed her eyes at him. “The way you hold me makes this easier to do.”