Free Pleasure Me by Monica Burns

his faults, knew that much.”
    Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned away and proceeded to make her way to the house. He stood there watching her walk away, her back ramrod straight with what he was certain could only be indignation. The idea that she’d placed him on a rung lower than Marston made him stiffen with anger. He wasn’t sure if his irritation was rooted in self-disgust or if it was the fact that Ruth didn’t like him. Either way, it was best that he stayed away from her, and the idea he’d even thought of asking her to be his mistress in name only was laughable. Unfortunately, he was far from amused.

4
    Ruth frowned as she struggled to focus her attention on the book she held. For the third time, she reread the paragraph on the page before closing the book with a noise of disgust. It had been a week since her visit to Crawley Hall, and she didn’t like the way she jumped every time the front doorbell rang.
    There was no reason for Lord Stratfield—Garrick—to call on her. No reason except his obvious attraction to her. An attraction that she couldn’t deny feeling, too. Or at least in the darkness of her bedroom she couldn’t. Her heart skipped a beat at the memory of the dream she’d had last night. Images of Garrick pleasuring every inch of her with his mouth until she screamed out his name and her body convulsed in one orgasm after another.
    She quickly stood up and dropped her book onto the side table next to the chair. The leather-bound volume cracked loudly against the walnut surface. Crossing the room to the window, she pushed aside the curtains to look out on the busy street. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so confused about what she wanted or so lost as to what to do.
    The sun was brilliant, and for a change the sky wasn’t cloudy with smoke from chimneys spewing out the residue of heat-producing coal. It was a perfect day for a ride in the park, and yet it was the last thing she wanted to do. The heat of the sun penetrated the glass and warmed her face as she closed her eyes for a long moment.
    Why couldn’t she shake this listlessness? She opened her eyes as she let the curtains fall back into place. Her life wasn’t over simply because Marston had ended their liaison. There were the children to look after. She bit down on her lip. Although she hadn’t heard back from Smythe about Crawley Hall, she was certain the offer she’d made yesterday wasn’t high enough. She would have to search for another property soon. St. Agnes’s was bursting at the seams.
    The doorbell jangled in the front hall, and her heart skipped a beat. Had Garrick—she brushed the thought aside before it could even take hold in her head. Simmons quietly entered the salon.
    “Yes, Simmons?”
    “A note from Mr. Smythe, my lady.” Simmons offered her an envelope, which Ruth accepted with resignation.
    “Thank you.”
    She stared down at the envelope then released a sigh of annoyance. There was little use in putting off opening the bloody thing when she already knew what it said. With a vicious tug, she tore the envelope as she yanked the letter out. Quickly unfolding the paper, she skimmed the words on the page, her body growing rigid as she read the message then read it again.
    Crawley Hall was hers.
    Stunned, she stared at the letter and the words saying her offer had been accepted. She closed her eyes in a brief prayer of gratitude. Dazed, she stared at the letter’s content with disbelief as she tried to comprehend the fact that the Hall was hers. Had her offer actually been higher than Garrick’s? Her eyes scanned the contents again for the line she’d skimmed over the first time. As she was the only bidder on the property, the owners had decided to accept her offer rather than wait for another buyer.
    The only bidder on the property.
    Garrick hadn’t bid on the property? If so, why not? She was certain he’d wanted the Hall. She frowned, uncertain whether to feel