Free Night of Pleasure by Delilah Marvelle Page B

heart flipped. He’d grown into quite the man. Broader. Muscular. The portrait he’d sent didn’t do him justice. He was ridiculously handsome. Those sharp, refined features reminded her of a dashing politician about to take the podium and address his people.
    That smooth, long-legged stride and set, shaven jaw hinted that he was a man in control of not only himself but the world. Astoundingly, that golden-brown hair, which appeared to be fashioned at shoulder length, had been pulled back into a ribbon similar to what her grandfather might have worn back in the 1700’s. She couldn’t believe he wore a queue. No one wore a queue anymore.
    It was as if he was trying to stand out amongst his peers. And he certainly did.
    He came to a regal halt several strides away from her and her father.
    The scent of freshly starched linen pierced the air between them.
    A breath escaped her. He was so beautiful he belonged in a museum behind glass with the large brass inscription that read ‘ Adonis .’
    Intense brown eyes skimmed her appearance. He searched her face for a moment and inclined his head, the black ribbon tying his hair cascading against his high collar. “Good afternoon, Miss Grey.” His voice was deep and refined, laced with an opulent British accent that showcased several generations of tradition. “At long last we touch the same soil.”
    She respectfully inclined her head. “Good afternoon, my lord.”
    He lingered for a moment before averting his gaze to her father. His features playfully brightened. “Mr. Grey! Good to see you again. You’ll be pleased to hear that all of the contracts were hand-delivered to your solicitor with all of my signatures not even an hour ago.”
    She almost sagged in relief. The sooner he got the money, the sooner she didn’t have to worry about him. He’d be fine without her. More than fine. Yes, it would pinch his pride, but with three million, he could buy himself the sort of life he really deserved. The sort she knew she wouldn’t be able to give him.
    He set a hand against his lower back, taking on a formal, gentlemanly stance and cleared his throat. “My mother and I were disappointed that neither of you would be staying here at the house. There is no need to stay at a hotel.” He captured her gaze. “I have rooms.”
    It was as if he were communicating that she needed to take the room next to his.
    “We appreciate the offer, Banfield,” her father countered with a quick smile, “but I already bought out an entire floor of rooms. It’s paid for.” Mr. Grey swept a hand toward her. “And here she is, as promised, Banfield. “Hasn’t she grown into something magnificent since you last saw her?”
    Leave it to her father to tell the man what he was supposed to think. She awkwardly caught Banfield’s gaze.
    His eyes had never left hers. Not once. “Indeed, she has.” Something intense flared in that rugged face.
    Her pulse quickened. That barely contained intensity reminded her of when they had first met. “I trust that you are well, my lord.”
    He still held her gaze. “Incredibly well, Miss Grey. It may be raining outside, but here inside, the sun is shining because you are, at long last, here.”
    It was getting awkward. He was beginning to sound like a medieval poetry book and was staring too much. “That is incredibly lovely of you to say, Banfield. Thank you.” She swept out her gloved hand toward him in greeting and waited.
    His shaven jaw tightened as those riveting brown eyes softened just enough to convey that he was touched by the gesture. Stepping closer, he grasped her gloved hand with large, bare fingers and brought it toward himself. “My warmth knows no bounds.” Tightening his hold, he sensuously grazed his slightly parted mouth against the knuckles of her glove, still holding her gaze.
    It was indecent. Not that he had ever been anything but.
    His masculine lips pressed straight through the leather and lingered in a bold manner that