Page 52

Charles raised an eyebrow. “You were getting acquainted with the attic?”

Two flags of red bloomed on Sarah’s cheeks. “The attic is a part of the house, is it not?”

He laughed again. With each laugh he felt lighter, as if he was breaking down a piece of a wall that had been long standing within him. Charles took in his wife. Or was she the one breaking down his wall?

Charles eyed the tall window behind his desk, garishly wrapped in fuschia curtains with ruffles. It was an eye sore when he was a child and his mother would be happy to know they still were.

His mother hated the curtains, but they were his father’s mother’s decoration and the old bird wouldn’t let his mother take them down until she passed away.

The day after his grandmother’s funeral his mother, along with a few trusted footmen, snuck into the rooms, tore them down and stored them in the attic.

Seeing them now soothed a part of Charles he didn’t realize was aching.

Charles walked to the curtains behind his desk. “And you put the curtains up by yourself as well?”

Charles watched as Sarah swallowed, her slender neck bobbing in the motion. He remembered what that soft skin tasted like. He licked his lips at the memory.

Sarah sucked in her bottom lip as she thought of a lie to tell him. He knew anything she said would be a lie. There was no way a slight thing like her could haul those heavy curtains down from the attic and hang them by herself.

A wicked smile widened his mouth. He couldn’t help to think of all the fun ways to punish her for whatever lie she came up with.

“If I told you how I did it it would take away the magic of the surprise, Your Grace.” Her omission was a sign of loyalty to the staff. Loyalty was a quality Charles held in high regard. Hearing her stand her ground pleased him immensely.

“Clever girl,” he murmured.

The twin flags of red on her cheeks spread over her entire face and her eyes widened in embarrassment. Or was it something else?

Her chest heaved against the confines of her dress, and the pupils of her eyes were blown.

My, my, my, she is a receptive little thing.

“Is this your revenge for dinner last night?” Charles cooed teasingly low and soft as he rounded the desk and walked towards Sarah still standing at the sofa.

A slim hand brushed a stray curl behind her ear as she licked her dry lips.

“I am astounded by your eye for decorating. You should renovate the whole house.” He said with a drop of sarcasm.

Sarah shook her head, the lust he once saw in her eyes began to melt away.

“You like it?” Confusion and a hint of anger dripped from her words.

“What’s not to love?” He said playfully. He felt like a predator playing with his food.

He slowed his steps, carefully moving with the grace of a cat prowling. With each step he took she took a step back until the back of her legs hit the sofa.

Sarah huffed. “Well…” her arms gestured wildly. “It’s… pink!”

Charles took another step closer to her, until he was directly in front of her. Standing this close to her he could see a whisper of freckles that dusted her cheeks. He had the sudden urge to kiss every one of them.

“Oh, it’s very pink.” He agreed. “But I think it’s the perfect combination of light and dark, wouldn’t you agree?” Charles’s body roared to life when he saw the goosebumps erupt across her skin at his seductive tone.

Sarah only nodded. Her hazel eyes were once again heavy with lust and they called to him.

“But, you have to admit that your intentions were not in good faith and for that, you must be punished.”

Sarah’s knees buckled beneath her. Charles reached out and grabbed around her waist, pulling her to his chest.

“Do you want to be punished, Sarah?” His voice smooth as velvet.