Hayden tightened his grip on Adele’s arm, practically dragging her down the hallway and into the first room they encountered . Tolland’s library.
“Ouch,” Adele cried, wrenching her arm from his vise-like grip . “You’re hurting me, Hayden.”
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” he barked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her cold eyes met his.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about . Listen to me, Adele, and listen well. I want you to go back into that room, make your apologies to Mrs. Tolland, and take your leave at once. Make up some excuse–I don’t care what you say. But I want you out of this house within the half hour, do you understand? And if I ever see you again in Mrs. Tolland’s company, I’ll–”
“You’ll what , Hayden? Bring physical harm on me? I doubt it. Sully my reputation? Why, you’ve already done so. Your idle threats don’t frighten me. But I will promise to stay away from your precious Mrs. Tolland if you’ll admit that you’re jealous.” She reached for his sleeve. “Admit it, Hayden. You miss me in your arms, in your bed. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, don’t you see? You’ll never find another woman so willing, so eager to please. No one has set your blood racing as I have. I know you’ll never forget that night in your carriage–me straddling you, riding you like–”
“You’re wrong, Adele . I have forgotten. Your memory has been easily erased.” It was the truth, as it had taken very little effort to remove the memories of their ill-considered affair from his consciousness. He wanted no reminders of his poor judgment where she was concerned.
“Do you mean to say that another woman...that you’ve...” Adele sputtered.
Hayden’s only response was silence. Yes, someone else had surely set his blood afire, far more than Adele ever had. Images of Jane flashed in his mind, her hands entwined in his hair, drawing his head toward hers, her warm, honeyed mouth so pliant, so welcoming.
“No, I don’t believe it . You want me,” Adele said silkily, obviously misinterpreting the lustful look in his eyes. She advanced toward him like a cat stalking its prey, her sheathed claws enveloping his neck before he’d had the chance to react. Her hard, demanding mouth was on his before he knew it.
The door swung against the wall with a thump .
Hayden roughly shoved Adele aside, stunned to see Jane standing in the doorway, one hand covering her mouth, her eyes round with surprise .
“Why, Miss Rosemoor,” Adele called out sweetly . “Did you come to see where the brutish Lord Westfield dragged me off to? I assure you no damage has been done.” Her smile was a triumphant one.
“My...my shawl,” Jane stuttered, pointing to a square of lace lying across the back of one chair .
Hayden strode over to the chair and lifted the shawl, inhaling the faint, spicy scent that wafted from its folds . He handed it to Jane, who snatched it from him as if she were terrified of her hand meeting his. As if he were a leper. A monster.
“It’s not what you think, Miss Rosemoor,” he said, amazed by his words . He owed her no explanation.
She met his gaze and held it for a moment, her eyes seeming to gather in intensity like sapphire storm clouds . Her lips were parted ever so slightly and he could hear her quick breaths, could feel the heat from her cheeks across the distance that separated them.
Without another word, she spun on her heel and fled .
“Jane,” he called out after her . “Miss Rosemoor,” he corrected, just as the door banged shut.
Hayden’s blood turned cold as Adele threw back her head and laughed .
“Badly done, Hayden . Badly done, indeed.”
He couldn’t agree more.
***
Jane hid behind the cards she held in her hand, fearing that the color in her cheeks would betray her emotions . Try as she might, she could not erase the image of Lord Westfield and Lady Adele pressed together,
“Ouch,” Adele cried, wrenching her arm from his vise-like grip . “You’re hurting me, Hayden.”
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” he barked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her cold eyes met his.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about . Listen to me, Adele, and listen well. I want you to go back into that room, make your apologies to Mrs. Tolland, and take your leave at once. Make up some excuse–I don’t care what you say. But I want you out of this house within the half hour, do you understand? And if I ever see you again in Mrs. Tolland’s company, I’ll–”
“You’ll what , Hayden? Bring physical harm on me? I doubt it. Sully my reputation? Why, you’ve already done so. Your idle threats don’t frighten me. But I will promise to stay away from your precious Mrs. Tolland if you’ll admit that you’re jealous.” She reached for his sleeve. “Admit it, Hayden. You miss me in your arms, in your bed. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, don’t you see? You’ll never find another woman so willing, so eager to please. No one has set your blood racing as I have. I know you’ll never forget that night in your carriage–me straddling you, riding you like–”
“You’re wrong, Adele . I have forgotten. Your memory has been easily erased.” It was the truth, as it had taken very little effort to remove the memories of their ill-considered affair from his consciousness. He wanted no reminders of his poor judgment where she was concerned.
“Do you mean to say that another woman...that you’ve...” Adele sputtered.
Hayden’s only response was silence. Yes, someone else had surely set his blood afire, far more than Adele ever had. Images of Jane flashed in his mind, her hands entwined in his hair, drawing his head toward hers, her warm, honeyed mouth so pliant, so welcoming.
“No, I don’t believe it . You want me,” Adele said silkily, obviously misinterpreting the lustful look in his eyes. She advanced toward him like a cat stalking its prey, her sheathed claws enveloping his neck before he’d had the chance to react. Her hard, demanding mouth was on his before he knew it.
The door swung against the wall with a thump .
Hayden roughly shoved Adele aside, stunned to see Jane standing in the doorway, one hand covering her mouth, her eyes round with surprise .
“Why, Miss Rosemoor,” Adele called out sweetly . “Did you come to see where the brutish Lord Westfield dragged me off to? I assure you no damage has been done.” Her smile was a triumphant one.
“My...my shawl,” Jane stuttered, pointing to a square of lace lying across the back of one chair .
Hayden strode over to the chair and lifted the shawl, inhaling the faint, spicy scent that wafted from its folds . He handed it to Jane, who snatched it from him as if she were terrified of her hand meeting his. As if he were a leper. A monster.
“It’s not what you think, Miss Rosemoor,” he said, amazed by his words . He owed her no explanation.
She met his gaze and held it for a moment, her eyes seeming to gather in intensity like sapphire storm clouds . Her lips were parted ever so slightly and he could hear her quick breaths, could feel the heat from her cheeks across the distance that separated them.
Without another word, she spun on her heel and fled .
“Jane,” he called out after her . “Miss Rosemoor,” he corrected, just as the door banged shut.
Hayden’s blood turned cold as Adele threw back her head and laughed .
“Badly done, Hayden . Badly done, indeed.”
He couldn’t agree more.
***
Jane hid behind the cards she held in her hand, fearing that the color in her cheeks would betray her emotions . Try as she might, she could not erase the image of Lord Westfield and Lady Adele pressed together,
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