sculpted, with
a layer of dark hair that thinned toward the belly until a thin
line disappeared into the robe, as if pointing in a sinful
direction. He dropped his hands and folded them in front, where the
V likely ended and leaned against the door frame. Her face was on
fire and she pulled her eyes away to glance at his face.
His gaze bore into hers and one eyebrow rose
in question. She didn’t want to ask if it was to inquire about the
noise, the furniture in the hall, or her opinion of his physique.
Goodness, she needed to find some cool air, soon. I am sure I am
overheated from the exertion , she lied to herself.
“Lord Atwood, I am so sorry to disturb you.”
She willed her eyes not to look below his face.
“I thought I made myself clear that there was
to be silence on this floor during the day.”
Tess bit her lip to buy time to think of an
excuse. “You were clear that you did not want the students on this
floor during the day.”
His other eyebrow shot up. “Miss Crawford, so
that you are not confused in the future, let me explain.” He
straightened and stepped from his room. Oddly, his hands remained
folded in front of his person. “There shall be silence on this
floor during all daylight hours. That goes for the servants, the
teachers, the students and anyone else you may think they do not
belong within the rules or one of the categories listed.” His voice
rose with each word, make that syllable, and Tess found herself
taking a step back. “In other words, anyone with a heartbeat
and breath is not allowed on this floor during the day.”
“I am very sorry, Lord Atwood. It will not
happen again. I promise.”
“See that it doesn’t.” He turned to step back
into his room and stopped. He looked over his shoulder and focused
on her, then the scene in the hallway, then back to her. “May I
ask, what is going on? And why is there furniture in my
hallway?”
Tess rushed forward to explain. “There were
not enough beds for all of us. The upper floor is practically empty
so we brought the beds over from the school.”
“How many more?” he groaned and dropped his
head, no longer looking at her.
She glanced to the servants for a number. One
of them held up two hands, their fingers indicating the answer.
“Eight.”
His spine stiffened and she could hear him
take a deep breath then exhale. She was glad she could not see his
face, for she did not doubt its expression was enough to send the
strongest of souls into hiding. “Hurry and be done with this move.”
He slammed the door behind him.
* * *
Vincent leaned his head back against the door
and closed his eyes. Thank goodness they had not been alone or he
may not have been responsible for his actions. Not that he would do
Miss Crawford any harm, but when she looked at his chest, then
further down, the tip of her tongue jutted out and licked her upper
lip, it was all he could do to just stand there. Had they been
alone, no doubt he would have pulled her into his arms and kissed
her senseless. However, he would have stopped there. Clearly the
woman was an innocent or she would not have turned such a
delightful shade of red.
It was also clear she appreciated what she
saw. That had been his undoing, or perhaps what released the man in
him. Had he not been so angry at being awakened, he would be
embarrassed by his physical reaction, which was why he kept his
hands folded in front of his response to her perusal of his body.
He hoped his servants had not noticed, and if they did, never
mentioned it to anyone else.
He straightened and walked toward the
decanter of brandy. It was a normal reaction, and nothing he should
be ashamed of. However, it had been so long since any woman had
looked at him in that manner, as if she wanted to explore further
because she enjoyed the view so far. Veronica used to look at him
with the same light of appreciation in her eyes, after the initial
wedding night and her fears had been overcome. Others
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes