“My darling,” he murmured, with puckered brows. His hand curved up her chin and across her cheek, so that his thumb could brush over her quivering lower lip. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you.”
He was drawn to her like a magnet. He wanted to taste those lips again and make them stop shaking. Remind her what it felt like to be touched by him, to be loved by him. She wouldn’t be able to deny the sincerity of what he felt for her if she just let him be intimate with her again.
Philip put his forearm against the door beside her head, closing her in. He didn’t want her to think of anything in the world but him. If she shut everything else out, she’d realize that she loved him too. He was sure of it. It was his only hope.
With heavy eyes, he lowered his face towards hers.
But before their lips touched, she turned her face to the side so that his mouth brushed her jawline instead. With a soft moan of denial, Philip dropped his head so that his forehead rested against her shoulder.
“Why should I want a man like you?” She whispered, beside his ear. “You’ve proven what you are.”
It cut through him. His face twisted up and he shook his head against her shoulder. He couldn’t let himself believe that. He wasn’t that man. That had been the worst of him. A blip in his life that he’d spend the rest of his time on this earth trying to make up for.
His hand had slackened on the doorknob, which she took as an opportunity to leave. She slipped away from his unresisting body, and he was forced to step back as she opened the door.
Then she left. She didn’t look back at him. Didn’t allow him to see her face, either because she wanted to spare him the sight of her contempt or because she didn’t want him to know that she felt more than she was letting on.
As she passed through the door, his hand drifted away from hers in a feather-light caress.
Loraine closed the door behind her. Philip stayed there for a long time. He knew that he couldn’t follow her. He couldn’t let her see how crushed he was by what she’d said.
He wondered if it was all over. If that was the final time they’d speak. Was it time to go home? He’d given it his best shot, and she’d turned him down.
But as his hand tingled from her touch… he knew that he couldn’t let it be over.
Philip wasn’t going down without a fight.
***
Miss Loraine Beauchamp
On the other side of the door, she bit her fist to keep from screaming. She was sure that she could still feel his breath on her cheek. Could still see the want in his eyes and feel the pulse of his body around hers.
“Damn him,” she whispered to herself. It bothered her that her voice was so unsteady.
“Loraine? Is everything alright?” It was Alfie, who’d rounded the corner in search of her.
She cleared her throat and smoothed her dress with her hands, though there wasn’t even a crinkle. “Yes, of course.”
He frowned at her. “Is the customer still in the meeting room?”
Damn.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was just getting him some water.”
This seemed to appease Alfie, who smiled. “Does he seem keen?”
She faked a smile in return. “Very keen.”
That was the problem. Loraine went to get a glass of water, begrudgingly, while Alfie went back to the shop floor. When she returned to the meeting room, Philip was just stepping out. “No,” she snapped at him, in a low whisper. She threw a look back over her shoulder, checking to see if Alfie was watching, and pushed him back into the room. She shut the door behind her and put her back against it.
Philip quirked a brow at her.
“Here,” she said, sharply. She pushed the glass of water at him, and he took it.
“Thank you? I thought you wanted me to leave.”
“I do,” she replied. “But you have to wait a few minutes. Then you can go.”
“Why?”
She curled her lip. “Alfie can’t think I’ve left you in here. I told him I was getting you water.”
Slowly, Philip started to smile. “That explains the kind gesture.”
“Why are you smiling?” She asked him, with a cold look.
“Because I have something I didn’t have before.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Leverage,” he concluded.
She could have slapped him. She felt frustration boiling in her blood, but there was something else too. That familiar tension between them that made her want to pull on his hair and kiss his neck.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” He took a sip of water. “Perhaps I’ll tell Alfie how you treat your customers.” There was a flash of mischief in his eyes. He stepped towards the door, as if he meant to do just that.
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed, in a whisper. She stepped forwards to keep him from getting any closer to the door. Loraine put her hand on his chest to keep him still. Though he was playing with her, she could feel his heart beating wildly through his clothes. “You’re bluffing,” she observed.
“Am I?”
“I’ve played poker with you, Philip. And if you recall, I always win.”
He nodded slowly, with a pensive expression. “That’s true. But the question is, are you willing to risk being wrong?”
No. No, she wasn’t. Even though she was almost entirely convinced that he wouldn’t do anything to harm her career, she couldn’t risk it. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
She didn’t. Loraine could think of a thousand things he might want from her. Her expression was wary.
“Don’t look so suspicious,” he said, with a softening smile. He put his hand over hers against his chest. “It’s not so terrible. I only want you to kiss me.”
“Only?” She scoffed.
“You used to like kissing me.”
“That was the past.”
“Perhaps you need to be reminded of what it’s like.”
Loraine grimaced at him and looked back at the door.
“Alright,” he said, with a shrug. He let go of her hand. “I’ll speak to Alfie.” When he tried to leave, Loraine sucked in a breath and fisted his shirt to keep him from moving.
In one brazen movement, she pulled him against her and kissed him, with her eyes tightly closed. She wanted to prove that he didn’t have a hold on her anymore, by keeping her lips tight and her expression stiff even as she kissed him.
But Loraine couldn’t do it.
When he put his hands on her waist, keeping his lips pliant and soft, her tension abandoned her. She melted into his arms and felt their bodies curve together. It felt so natural. Like the sea meeting the shore.
Her lips parted slightly, and so did his. She felt the gentle glide of his tongue across her lower lip, and there was a hiccup of longing in her lungs. Her fingers curled through his hair. God, she’d missed him.
He was a cad, a scoundrel, a swindler. But it was so easy to forget all of that when he was kissing her, and be fooled into thinking that his love for her was sincere.
They stumbled together until her lower back struck the edge of the desk. She gasped when she felt the impact, and her eyes opened, just for a moment. His face was carved with yearning, and his eyes pierced right through her.
She felt like she could see his soul, and it was full of goodness, despite what she knew of him. He was the devil in disguise, and she knew it, but she wanted to make love to him anyway.
How did he have such a gift for fooling her?
Loraine felt his hands beneath her, lifting her until she was perched on the edge of the desk. The position brought with it a strange sense of déjà vu.
There came a knock at the door, which shattered the illusion.
Loraine sucked in an audible breath and pushed against him, hard enough that he stumbled away from her. She jumped down off the desk and pulled her dress down, wiping her mouth urgently. She could only hope that
her lipstick wasn’t smudged because, within a moment, Alfie was stepping into the room.
He was smiling brightly. “I hear that you’re rather keen, sir! Are you ready to put an offer down?”
Philip and Loraine were standing several feet apart, both of them breathing heavily and flushed in the cheeks. But Alfie didn’t notice, thank God.
“He just expressed his interest in doing so,” Loraine said quickly. “Didn’t you, sir?”
Philip blinked, seemingly coming out of a daze. Then he nodded. “Yes…” he said, slowly.
“Grand! If you’ll come this way, I’ll take you through the process.”
Alfie stood in the doorway, gesturing for Philip to walk through. Loraine saw the reluctance in his countenance when he looked back at her. His eyes said, this isn’t over.
No, she didn’t believe it was. As the men left, Loraine leaned back against the desk and put her face in her hands. She was ashamed of herself. For melting into him. For letting him get her caught up in his gravitational pull.
For being weak to him, over and over again.
Epilogue
Miss Loraine Beauchamp
The next time she saw Philip, he was waiting outside for her again. This time, she was resolved not to speak to him. It was when she engaged with him that she got herself into trouble, so she’d simply pretend that he didn’t exist.
That drove him mad. He walked alongside her as she made her way home, doing his absolute best to get her to speak to him. But all she would say was, I do not want to speak to you.
“Please speak to me, Loraine,” he’d beg, over and over.
The next day, he caught her on the way to work and changed his tactics. This time, he tried to get a rise out of her. “Is this about the kiss?” He’d tease. “You seemed to enjoy it a great deal. Don’t you want to feel that again?”
It was a good move, because Loraine felt about ready to scream at him by the end of the walk. It almost shattered her resolve, but she clung on to it for dear life.
It was the last thing he said to her, before she went inside, that got to her the most. Just before she stepped into the gallery, he said, “You don’t have to be afraid.”
Loraine stopped and looked back at him. “What?”
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said again. “Of how you feel about me.”
She thought that he must be saying that to rile her up, just like everything else he’d said on that walk. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw a trace of sincerity. And realized that he meant it.
He really did think she was afraid.
Loraine was breathing unsteadily as she walked inside. Rage made her sweat and shake. She thought about those words all day. How dare he suggest such a thing?
How dare he be right?
Because she was afraid. Desperately so.
When Loraine left work that evening, Philip was waiting for her, just as she expected. She sighed heavily when she saw him. “Will you never give up?”
“Do you really want me to?” He asked.
“I do,” Loraine said, as she approached him. A light rain was starting to fall. She looked up at the sky, but didn’t consider finding shelter. She’d never much minded the rain.
“Do you really?” He replied, in a softer voice, with a slight furrow between his brows.
Loraine swallowed, watching a raindrop roll down his cheek. “Philip-”
“Please think carefully before you answer,” Philip interjected. “For my sake and for yours.”
Loraine expelled a breath. “For my sake?”
“Yes,” he said, evenly. “I know that you think I’m a selfish cad. And perhaps I am. But whether you care to admit it or not, you love me, Loraine. You love me. And eventually you’ll send me away one time too many… and you’ll regret that. We’ve both made poor decisions during our time together, but I’m done with all that. I want things to be right between us.”
She felt a shiver go down her spine, and chose to believe that it was the chill of the rain, and not his words. Philip stepped closer, and her breath quickened. But he didn’t lean down and kiss her, as some foolish part of her hoped he would.
Instead, he pressed his lips against her cheek and she felt him breathe her in. “I’ll be here tomorrow,” he whispered. And with those final words, he left.
Loraine stood there for a few moments, watching him walk away. The rain was getting heavier, as was his presence in her mind and in her heart. She went home, feeling ill, and shakily poured herself a glass of brandy.
She wanted Mrs. Barrow there, to give her advice. Or even Aunt Esther. But there was nothing and no one in her flat. She was alone, with this colossal decision and her equally colossal feelings.
“Philip…” she whispered to herself, as she took a seat on the edge of her bed. She knew that he’d be back the next day. And the next. And the next.
She didn’t believe that he’d ever stop coming for her, despite what he’d said. Loraine didn’t imagine that Philip had ever given up on something he wanted.
So where did that leave her?
She couldn’t keep seeing him, because every time she did it wore her down a little more. Eventually she’d give way, and let him have her again.
She couldn’t let that happen.
So she decided to leave. One more day in the gallery, out of respect for Alfie, and she’d go. Without a word to Philip and without a goodbye.
Loraine made the arrangements, and packed her bags, before she went to bed.
***
Lord Philip Everton, Marquess of Blackhill
Philip knew Loraine, so he knew it wouldn’t be long before she left. He wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t truly believe that a woman as stubborn as her would give in to him so easily.
And yet he kept coming back, day after day, spending all his energy on trying to devise a way to break through the walls she’d put up. Since leaving England, her barriers were even more impenetrable than ever.
But Philip was even more determined.
Philip woke with a heavy, achy feeling in his chest. He expelled a soft breath and laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
He had a feeling that if Loraine didn’t concede today, she never would. The magnitude of the day felt immense. It felt like it could be the most important day of his life.
He had to get this right.
Taking a deep breath, he got out of bed and dressed so that he could get to the gallery early. He turned up just as it was opening, and saw Loraine through the window. She was hanging a picture, and her face looked so at ease.
It was no wonder that so many men had fallen in love with her. It was no wonder that Edgar had lost his mind over her. Philip thought that perhaps he had too.
Loraine felt his stare, and turned her face a little so that their eyes met. She didn’t smile, but turned away from the window before the look could linger.
He was afraid.
What if he really couldn’t get her back?
Swallowing, he stepped into the gallery and tried to summon the courage to risk pain and rejection just one more time. Before she left, as she surely would.
Loraine did her best to avoid him that day, which was easier than usual because there were so many other customers. Alfie was revealing a new painting, by some artist Philip had never heard of, but who was obviously very popular. So there was a hustle and bustle in the gallery that was typically absent from the quiet shop floor.
Whenever Philip tried to talk to Loraine, he was intercepted by chance, or purposely thwarted by her. She’d say something like, “Do forgive me, sir, but I’m currently with a customer. Miss Trent will be more than happy to help.”
She’d say it loudly enough so as to be sure that someone would overhear, which afforded him no opportunity of arguing the subject. With a gruff exhale, he’d be joined by Miss Trent, who took great pleasure in stealing his attention.
He spent the entire day in that gallery, being talked at by strangers, lectured on the pomp
of a particular artist. And all the while, he’d steal glimpses at Loraine, which were never returned.
Instead of getting quieter, the gallery got busier as day turned into evening. “Lord Blackhill!” Alfie cried, just half an hour before their typical closing time. “You’re still here? Remarkable. You must be our most avid customer.”
Philip smiled tersely. He’d lost his patience long ago. “Yes, well, my interest in art has blossomed over the past few months.”
Seducing The Vengeful Marquess (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 29