He steps forward and takes me into his arms. “We’ll dance here then.”
What?
He pulls me close to him, takes one of my hands in his, and he smiles down at me as he begins to sway to the music. “You’re a wonderful dancer, Lady Charlotte.” He smiles mischievously.
I smirk at his sheer audacity. “Does this routine work on every woman you meet?”
He smiles his first genuine smile and I feel the effects of it hit me deep in my stomach. “Please don’t talk about other women. I’m in the courting zone, concentrating on you and only you.” He spins me around, and we both chuckle at his ridiculousness.
He lets me go and holds one hand up, and then he spins me in his arms and pulls me back to his body with force until we come face to face.
I stare up at him, my heart skipping a beat. “I have to go,” I whisper.
“Why?” His intoxicating breath washes over my face.
“My father will be looking for me.”
“How old are you, Lady Charlotte?”
“Too young for you, Mr Spencer.”
He smiles softly. “I have no doubt.” He bends down and softly kisses my lips.
My chest constricts.
He kisses me again, soft and tenderly, hovering his lips over mine. Unable to help it, I smile, and that’s when he kisses me again but this time more urgently, his arms curling around my waist and bringing me to his body.
I’ve never been kissed like this.
His tongue sweeps through my open mouth and our tongues dance together.
For three whole minutes, I drink him in as we kiss like teenagers.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Charlotte,” he gasps as he kisses me again.
I lose control and my hands go to his hair, and then I feel something hard up against my stomach.
Is that…?
I instantly pull out of the kiss and step back, panting for breath.
He reaches for me again, but I step back farther. “Don’t touch me!” I whisper sharply, holding my hand up in defence.
“What? Why?”
I shake my head. “I’m not the kind of girl you are used to, Mr Spencer.”
As if confused he shakes his head as if at a loss. “And what kind of girl is that?”
“I’m not one of those high society sluts. Y-you should go back inside and find someone else to… entertain you,” I stammer.
“I never said you were and I don’t want anyone else!” he snaps. “If I overstepped the line, I apologise. I never… I mean…”
He’s tripping over his words as he tries to right the situation.
I step back again, creating more distance. “You stepped over the line… by a lot.” I glance up and I can see my father is out on the terrace looking for me. “I have to go.” I brush past Mr Spencer, walk up the path and up the stairs. My father smiles the second he sees me.
“Are you ready to leave, Charlotte?”
“Please,” I say quietly. My eyes fall back down to the garden where Mr Spencer stands.
My father puts his arm around me and we walk around to the front of the house to get into the back of his Bentley. His driver shuts the door and I peer out just in time to see Mr Spencer appearing from the shadows next to the house, watching me leave.
He smiles softly and blows me a kiss, and I drop my head at once, gripping my clutch on my lap.
“That was a great night, wasn’t it?” My father smiles as the car slowly pulls out.
“It was.” I force a smile. My fingertips rise to brush my lips which still tingle from Mr Spencer’s touch. I smile to myself softly.
No wonder he’s the most eligible bachelor in London.
He’s perfect.
And he’s trouble.
2
Charlotte
The car enters the grounds of my father’s estate. We ride down the driveway, past his expansive sandstone castle. We continue along to the lane that leads to my house on the property. The grounds are manicured to perfection. As usual, the security staff walk the perimeters morning, noon, and night. My two brothers and I each have houses on this property, including our own roads in, but we always use my father’s driveway if we are with him. I smile at the thought. Dad couldn’t possibly use another entrance to his house. He has to drive through the huge fancy gates to feel at home.
I love it here. My father’s staff are beautiful, and I always feel safe. Although I do worry about dad living here all alone. He’s never recovered since my mother died. She was the love of his life. He had to fight hard for the right to love her, too. She was his childhood housekeeper’s daughter. Our money is old money, passed down from generation to generation. Our social reputation is deeply ingrained into all of us. When he fell in love with the hired help’s daughter, it didn’t go down well. It seems like so much has changed since back then…. And at the same time, like nothing has changed at all. I wouldn’t be allowed to fall in love with the hired help either, and all hell would break loose if I so much as tried.
The moonlight reflects off the white pebbles on the drive, and a wave of sadness rolls over me as I look around at the grand grounds. Money doesn’t buy happiness. We would all hand over every penny we have in an instant if it meant we got to see our mother again.
I look out of the window with a frown and, as if sensing my thoughts, my father reaches over and takes my hand.
“Everything all right?” he asks quietly.
I smile at him, banishing my sad thoughts. “Of course. I had a wonderful time tonight.”
“What’s on tomorrow, dear?”
“Nothing. Gardening with Elouise.”
“You don’t have to help with the gardening, you know.”
“I know.” I kiss the back of his hand tenderly. “I like to garden, you know that, and if I get to spend the day with Elouise then all the better for me.”
He smiles and looks out of the window, somewhat bemused. It’s funny because I spend more time with the staff here than I do with anyone else. Most of them have been with my father since I was a child. Elouise is an older lady and our resident horticulturist. She’s gentle, sweet, and I adore her. She lives in the village and has worked for us for about two years, forever a dear friend.
The car rolls to a stop outside my house, and I lean over and kiss my father as Wyatt opens my car door.
“Hello.” Wyatt smiles and takes my hand to help me out of the car. He’s clearly been waiting for my arrival, as he didn’t come to the wedding.
“Hello, Wyatt.” I smile in return, placing a hand on his chest before I walk past him and into the house.
“How was your evening?”
“Wonderful, thank you. How was yours?”
“Quite dull.”
I smile as I walk. Wyatt is in his mid-thirties, and he’s my bodyguard. He usually comes with me everywhere I go. Six years ago, when my father’s company began buying casinos, our world changed overnight. Suddenly, the people he did business with weren’t always as reputable as we were. We needed protection from the unknown, and that’s when we were each given bodyguards who were to follow our every move.
My mother didn’t have one with her on the day of her death and I know my father has always questioned that if she had had one, would the car accident have happened? Would she still be here with us?
I used to hate the security but I’m used to it now, and at least Wyatt isn’t as obtrusive as my father’s security team. They’re hardcore. I couldn’t deal with them at all.
Glancing back, I see three of them in the car behind us. They go everywhere he goes and none of them will ever make eye contact with me. I know it’s because my brother has warned them with their lives if one of them come near me.
Wyatt is different, though. He’s trusted with me. We’ve also become friends. Not besties or anything as he keeps it very professional at all times, but I definitely rely on him more than I expected to.
I give my father a small wave goodbye, and then I walk up the path towards my house as the car pulls away slowly and heads back to the main house.
“Good night, Charlotte,” Wyatt calls from the end of the driveway.