Page 18

Stapleton Boxing Salon

Mayfair, London

A lexander wiped the sweat from his brow, for the interior of Lewis’ office was sweltering with the afternoon sun heating the space even though the blinds were closed and the window glass pushed open.

Unexpectedly, Lydia had arrived in the office from the discreet entrance around the two o’clock hour asking for a lesson.

Lewis was out at a private home giving a boxing lesson while Duncan worked the salon floor and could continue to do so himself.

He’d been out there with his brother, but when he spied her through the open blinds of the window that looked out into the salon, Alexander had rapidly excused himself, mumbled something about a client in the office, and then beat a hasty retreat there, being certain to close the blinds and prevent any of the other men on the floor from seeing her.

But he’d been ready, for that morning he’d set out a few tick mattresses on the floor as well as had Duncan help him to hang a straw-filled bag in one of the corners of the office.

If his brother had questions regarding his behavior, they weren’t voiced, and that was fine with him.

The less he had to explain or admit to regarding the doctor’s daughter, the better.

“Tired already, my lord?” she asked with a sweetly sarcastic note in her voice.

“Perish the thought, Miss Tetford. Merely overheated.”

“Then perhaps you should remove your shirt, hmm?” One of her eyebrows went up in challenge, for he’d only stripped to his lawn shirt and breeches.

A shiver of need went down his spine to lodge in his groin when she quite boldly swept her gaze up and down his person as if she wished to devour him whole. And given what she’d treated him to last night, he had no reason to believe she wouldn’t.

I rather think I’ve caught a tigress by the tail.

What would happen if he let go? Half of him wished to find out while the other half did not. “As much as you might beg, the shirt will remain on. We’re not finished with the lesson.”

She snorted and her chin came up a tiny bit. “You’ll never hear me beg for anything.”

“That’s damned disappointing.” When he threw a light punch, Lydia blocked it with a mitten-covered hand.

“But then, that wasn’t what happened last night after we shared tea, was it?

” It might make him a rogue to mention that, but part of sparring was trying to distract his opponent, and he grinned.

Last night, after the interlude with the tea and enjoying the silence together on the sofa, they’d got up to kissing once more, and that had ended with him sliding off the sofa, pushing up her skirting, and then pleasuring the hell out of her with his fingers, tongue, and lips until she’d hit release twice.

Following that, he’d left the house an hour after that, for he hadn’t wished to be in residence when her father returned home, but he’d made her promise she’d come by the salon on the morrow for a boxing lesson.

Pink stained her cheeks. She drilled a fist into his, and the force from that sent him stumbling back a step. “A gentleman wouldn’t have mentioned that.”

“I never claimed I was a gentleman.” Giving her a wink, he swung out a fist and caught her shoulder. The padded mitten prevented him from doing much damage.

“Urgh!” With the shake of her head, Lydia went after him, but he took refuge behind the punching bag. “Why are you so annoying?”

“It must be the company I keep,” he said with a wink and a grin. “Now, punch the bag and pretend it’s my face.”

Her kissable lips pulled downward into a frown. “I don’t wish to cause you harm or pain. That is not what a physician does.”

“But today, you are not a physician. You are a boxer. Now punch the damned bag. Address everything that makes you fret.”

“All right.” As he held the bag steady, Lydia gave it a half-hearted punch that barely made a dent in the fabric.

“You can do better than that, my dear.”

“I’m not sure…”

“What if I said that a woman should spend her time working on needlepoint and painting, even after she marries, for that is all they’re good for?”

“Then I’d come after you with fury.” And she did, delivering a one-two punch to the bag with such force behind it that the bag smacked into his chest and cheek.

“Keep going.” Pride for her welled in his chest. “Women should only speak when directly addressed.”

“You are trodding dangerous ground, Lord Wexley.”

Punch, punch!

Her fists slammed into the bag with deadly accuracy.

He couldn’t contain his glee, and he laughed. “Quite frankly, I don’t believe a woman’s mind is capable of reading complex books let alone navigating their way around the human form.”

“Argh!” She flew at the bag with her mitten-covered fists drilling into the straw-filled bag. Again and again, she punched that bag until he thought she’d tear through the burlap. “I think I hate you, Alexander.”

“Oh, I rather doubt that. You only despise the words you’re hearing because countless men have told you those things throughout the course of your life.

” He came out from behind the bag. “I said them to you to fuel your inner fire, to make you mad enough to use your strength, your inner power, and channel it through your fists.”

“While I understand what you’re trying to do, it makes me quite mad.

” With an anguished cry, she came at him, lunging and reaching with her fists, pushing him over the floor toward the tick mattresses.

Finally, she caught him, and instead of punching him, she grabbed his right arm with both her hands regardless of the mittens, then she bent her knees, and with another cry, she dropped her hips, pulled on his arm, and before he knew it, Alexander landed flat on his back, staring at her with more than a bit of awe.

“And that is but one move I know in jujitsu.”

His grin widened as an odd sensation of falling assailed him. “I’m impressed, Lydia. It’s too damned bad women aren’t allowed to box, because you show real promise.”

In a surprise move, she dropped down on top of him, straddling his waist with her skirting hiked up to her thighs.

“Do not ever tell me what I can or cannot do, even as motivation.” She punched his chest with her mittened hands, but pain shadowed her eyes.

“I know what I’m capable of, and I won’t be told no just because society deems women should only fit into one mold. ”

“I would never dream of holding you back or assume to dictate anything to you.” Gently, he took her hands in his.

“Never have I met such a strong, determined woman of integrity such as you.” When he tugged, she came willingly over his chest until her face was mere inches from him.

The warmth of her breath skated over his cheek, and damn, the scent of lavender would forever remind him of her.

“Truth be told, each time I see you, I’m inspired to do better in my own life, both boxing and personal.

You hold yourself to a high standard; there is no reason I can’t do the same. ”

With her as his motivation there was nothing he couldn’t do; he fully believed that. Now he understood a bit more of why Lewis had changed so much in such a short period of time. It was for a woman, and perhaps there was a certain comfort in that catalyst.

Her expression softened, and though she smiled, her chin trembled.

“I don’t know what to say about that, for it’s very sweet, but I feel it’s also extremely honest. Not many men would dare to show themselves as that vulnerable.

” Before he could respond, she planted her hands on the tick mattress on either side of his head, layered her upper body against his, and kissed his mouth as if they were alone and the scandal of being imminently discovered wasn’t there.

After several moments of indulging her, he eased Lydia off his body and quickly stood, moving behind the punching bag once more to hide his insistent erection, but to her, he hoped it seemed as if he were checking on how the straw interior had shifted.

“Too much more of that and you’ll find yourself bent over the desk with your skirts over your head. ”

“As if that is such a bad thing?”

How the hell was he to survive the storm that she represented? For he was confident that she was just that, a storm that blew into his life and then after the destruction, she’d be gone just as quickly. Did he want that, and if he didn’t, how to convince her to chase something long term?

“Well, it’s not, obviously, but I won’t give into base instincts while the salon is full of men having lessons or using the equipment.

And not especially if my brothers can come in at any time.

” He came toward her. “I’m quite selfish, you see, and I want to be the only one to hear your sounds of enjoyment or see your body. ”

Would that make him seem like a cad?

“Oh.” Though a blush stained her cheeks, she offered him a smile. In uncharacteristic silence, she offered her hands. Quickly, Alexander undid the laces and then slipped the mittens from her hands. “Should I remind you that I belong to no one?”

“You can, and while I understand that all too well, I would hope that at least you would give me latitude enough to try and earn your fidelity.”

After peering at him for what felt like an eternity, she nodded. “Should we, uh, continue with the lesson then?”

His nerves suddenly prickled. “I think we’ve done enough for today, so instead of continuing, what would you say to me escorting you about Town?” Was that too bold?

“Why?” She peered at him with wariness in her expression.

Why indeed. “I… Uh, I am thinking of paying my addresses to you, if you are of the same mind.” It was difficult to tell when it came to her.

Lydia propped her hands on her hips. “You? A bachelor with little to no responsibility, and from your own admission not enough coin to set up housekeeping?”