He wished her and both of her aunts a good evening and left them. Meredith watched him walk away with an odd mix of regret and relief. He had been a wonderful dancer. And as much as she hated to admit it, she had enjoyed herself with him, in spite of his being an insufferable flirt and vain rogue.
“Oh, he’d be a good catch!” Lavinia exclaimed, with a spark of excitement in her eyes. “He’s from a good family, and they have lots of money. And a simply gorgeous house in Mayfair!”
“And he’s ever so handsome, Meredith!” Delilah smiled with undiluted glee. “I hope he decides to call on you!”
Meredith froze at her aunt’s words.
To be pursued by the pompous lord filled her with trepidation. She couldn’t imagine being married to a man so full of himself, no matter how handsome, charming, and fascinating he was. A man like that would demand too much of her attention and would never allow her to write. His ego would not allow it.
With a heavy sigh, Meredith pasted a smile on her face as she met her next dance partner.
* * *
“Who was that you were dancing with this evening? The pretty brunette?” Lady Katherine Vickers asked him later that same night, when they were alone in her bedroom.
“Just the newest young heiress from America looking for an English title.”
Phillip shrugged carelessly as he eyed the front of Katherine’s low-cut gown. Her body was a delicious temptation. He reached out a hand to tug down the front of her jade-colored dress.
“Then it’s a good thing I already have a title,” she retorted in a breathy voice.
“Is that right, my lady?” he said, as he ushered her closer to the massive four-poster bed draped with pink velvet curtains that dominated her luxurious bedroom.
She began to breathe heavily. “I am your lady.”
Had she emphasized that she belonged to him or had he only heard what he wanted to hear? He thought of what his mother had mentioned to him earlier. That Katherine was telling her friends that she would marry him.
“Are you mine, Kitty?”
The words flew from his lips before he was able to stop them. He almost wished he could take them back. Almost. Phillip held his breath while he waited impatiently for her answer.
“Phillip, you know I am yours, but . . .”
A pretty pout crossed her face as she loosened her thick blond hair from the pins that held it in place on top of her head. She gave her head a little shake and her hair cascaded around her shoulders in silken golden waves.
“But what?” he asked, mesmerized by her erotic movements. He reached out to touch her hair.
She pulled away from him and sat upon the edge of the bed. “I don’t like you dancing with that young girl.”
His heart leapt with joy. Katherine was jealous! Of the American oil heiress, of all women. He smiled at her and said teasingly, “Why not? Are you afraid she’ll steal me away from you?”
She turned to look directly at him. “Yes. I am.”
Oh, how he’d longed to hear these words from her! For months she’d kept him on pins and needles, never knowing if she would see him or not. She blew hot and cold, and he had no way of knowing what to expect from her. But now . . . now he had the upper hand. He finally had Lady Katherine Vickers’s attention.
She wanted him.
Katherine crossed her arms across her chest, which only amplified her cleavage, pushing her breasts almost up and out of her gown. The motion distracted him for a moment.
“Why are you afraid?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Because you’re mine, Phillip. . . . And I want us to be together.”
“We are together,” he said. He was baiting her, and she knew it.
“For now.” She gave him an arch look.
“For now,” he echoed calmly.
“And what about the future?” she asked.
“What about it?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.
“Phillip, are you going to make me say it?” She was irritated with him now. “Then fine. I’ll say it. Are we going to get married?”
“I don’t know that we need to marry. I like things as they are between us. But then again, I wouldn’t rule anything out, Kitty.”
He kissed her to keep her from talking about it anymore. He truly did not wish to marry her, or anyone else for that matter. But he liked knowing that he could have her if he wanted to, after she had played so many games with him.
It was good to have some of his power back.
6
On the Same Page
It was too late to escape. She was trapped.
But that didn’t prevent her from struggling against the strong arms that held her like bands of steel. She kicked. She squirmed. She would have screamed, but his gloved hand completely covered her mouth, making it difficult to even breathe. Complete and utter terror flooded every fiber of her being. She was going to die here in the darkened woods.
No one would be able to rescue her in time. No one would know where to find her. She never should have come out here in the first place. She should have at least told Peter where she was going. What on earth had she been thinking? She was such a great fool.
And now she would die at the hands of a madman for her foolish mistake.
“Shh . . . shh,” he whispered over and over in her ear. “I won’t hurt you, Olivia.”
Stunned, she paused her frantic attempts to free herself for a moment. Had she heard him correctly? Oh dear God, was he going to torture her first? Was that to be her fate?
“There, there . . . that’s it. Calm yourself. There’s no need to struggle against me. I’ll let you go if you promise not to scream. And don’t run away. I can explain everything.” His voice was calm, even soothing.
What was this? How was she not already strangled? How was she still alive? Was it some sort of trick? Or just a momentary reprieve before he killed her? Relief filled her anyway. Maybe there would be a chance for her to make an escape. Hesitantly, she let her body grow limp, and she nodded in agreement not to scream.
He removed his hand from her mouth, and she breathed in great gulps of the cold, fog-drenched air. It had never felt so good to breathe!
He still held her firmly in his grasp as he stood behind her. She could not move her arms. Oddly enough, there was a sense of security being in his arms, resting her weary body against his broad, masculine chest. She could not see his face, yet his voice was oddly familiar.
“Who are you?” she whispered hoarsely.
“I’m not who you think I am, but you’re in great danger. Let me help you.”
Her mind reeled at his words. Who was it that held her this way? If it had been Huntley who’d found her, she would be dead by now. Olivia was certain of it. So, who was this man? And more importantly, what did he want with her?
Let me help you, he had said.
* * *
“May I help you?”
Startled by the interruption, Meredith glanced up from her manuscript.
An elegant-looking woman stood in front of her. Her coffee-colored hair, barely dusted with some gray at the forehead, was arranged stylishly around her pretty face. She was petite and dressed beautifully, with kind blue eyes that looked at Meredith