A Summer to Surrender (The Tempting Tycoons Book 1) by Collette Perri

Author:Collette Perri [Perri, Collette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

12

Alex sat in an oversized chair by the library’s roaring fire, waiting for Phoebe to arrive. He was not a patient man by nature, and this evening was testing his limits.

He sipped slowly from a tumbler of whiskey, wondering, not for the first time, whether she was going to show. She had been surprised when he asked her here, and indeed, he had been surprised himself. He had intended to wait until their walk the next morning to have a frank conversation with her about the kiss they had shared and what should happen next, but the plan had gone out the window that evening when she entered the drawing room in that off-the-shoulder blue dress. Those collarbones . . . the soft, white column of her throat . . . it was impossible to look at her and think of anything other than that morning when he had pressed his lips to those very spots, holding her in his arms.

He had been determined to avoid Phoebe that evening, not wanting to raise his mother’s or anyone else’s suspicions after demanding the table seating be rearranged. He was not going to so much as look in her direction.

Then they had played that damn foolish game, and he had made the mistake of looking over at her when Lady Elizabeth was sitting on his lap.

She had looked as if he had struck her. Was it jealousy? Hurt feelings? He couldn’t be sure, as the expression had only appeared on her face for an instant before it was gone. Then it was his turn to play, and he knew where she was despite the blindfold. He knew the feeling of her eyes on his back, smelled the subtle aroma of jasmine mixed with that scent that was just hers alone, and against his better judgment singled her out, needing her to know that he had found her.

He had drawn too much attention to them, but even that hadn’t been enough to stop him from inviting her to the library. He had acted on impulse when he saw her leave the drawing room, needing to be alone with her, unable to let her out of his sight.

This was madness.

One of the doors to the library creaked open, and there she stood, wearing an ivory wrapper, belted at the waist. Her long auburn hair hung down her back in a single, thick braid. He watched her, unmoving, gleaning what he could of her mood from her expression. She looked nervous, on edge, her blue eyes wide on her pale face. But he detected something else that made the blood rush faster through his veins — excitement.

She walked to the center of the room and looked around, taking in the walls of books and finally the fireplace. She noticed him then, her eyes landing on his shadowed figure, backlit as he was by the flames.

“Lord Westmore,” she said quietly. It was almost a whisper.

He rose from his chair, placing the tumbler of whiskey down, unfinished, on the side table.

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