the land. Of which, of course, I would only see a fraction. But a fraction of millions is still staggering and beyond impressive.”
“It most certainly is.” She dug her fingers into the palm of her hand. Still feeling awkward, knowing that she was actually talking to the man who was going to change everything, she randomly blurted, “You have a most unusual accent. British, yet not. Were you born in London?”
“No. I was born and raised in Surrey.”
“Surrey. So where are you from now?”
“New York.”
“America? How exciting. Is it nice there?”
“When you close your eyes.”
“It doesn’t seem like you cared for it.”
“It was a place to live. Nothing more.”
“I see. And do you plan on going back?”
“Does it sound like I plan on going back?”
Her brows came together. This man certainly didn’t elaborate much. She asked, he answered. That was all. It was as if he was a wall tolerating their conversation. He was clearly bored. Not that she blamed him. Everything about her life was as mundane as staring at her medicine. Her investment scheme with Henry was the only exciting thing to have ever happened to her. Which was pathetic.
She stripped his great coat from her shoulders and held it out. “I shouldn’t keep you.”
“You aren’t keeping me.” He took the coat and shrugged himself into it, adjusting it around his large frame. “I always have time to entertain a beautiful woman.”
An odd giddiness poked at her knowing he thought she was beautiful. Her. She pressed her fingers nervously into her thighs, shifting the wet material of her robe. Maybe she should say something more. “Fortunately it stopped raining. So your walk home ought to be pleasant.”
“Is that your way of telling me to go?”
“No. I…I’m trying to make conversation.”
“Are you?” Amusement tinged his voice. “Might I point out, you’re not very good at it.”
She cringed and shifted against the wall. “I know.”
He shifted closer, the heat of his body drawing unnervingly close. “How old are you?”
She pressed herself harder against the wall, until she felt the plaster beneath the silk embroidered paper. “Old enough. Why?”
One hand and then another pressed against the wall beside her head, caging her in with his muscled frame. “Old enough for what?”
Her breathing shallowed. “For anything.”
Another slow smile teased his lips. “If I tied your hands behind your back or above your head, would you be amenable to it?”
A strange fluttering overtook her stomach as he hovered above her in dominating silence. “Am I supposed to answer that?”
He cocked his head, still watching her. “Let me give you some advice based on what I’m seeing here. Never let a man you don’t know this close to you again. There are a lot of assholes that prey on women like you. Consider yourself fortunate I’m not one of them.”
Assholes? She blinked.
His voice grew husky. “Are you warm yet? I can take off my coat again. In fact, I can take off whatever you want me to. All you have to do is ask.”
She felt the foyer sway and locked her knees together to keep herself from sliding down the wall. Something about the way he had said it made her want to drape herself against him.
His right hand left the wall and trailed to her shoulder. He gently curved his palm in and brushed past her throat, making her suck in a sharp breath.
Rough padded fingers nudged her face up toward the fuzzy outline of his own face. “You’re very pretty. Do you know that?”
Why did she sense this man was going to change more than her finances? She swallowed, feeling his lips hovering above hers. Should she let him kiss her? It wouldn’t be a sin, would it?
The heat of his breath tickled her mouth.
She grew faint. Very, very faint.
He released her and pushed away from the wall. “I have to go.” Turning, he stalked toward the entrance, his boots thudding against the marble with what appeared to be a