[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]mechanical precision. He called for his stallion to be saddled and went for a short, reckless gallop in
Green Park.
Serves you right, Hawkscliffe, drawled his smug better sense. I warned you of this but you had to have
her, didn t you? Fool. Falling for a demirep.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Reaching the far end of the park all too soon, his disgust wasn t nearly spent. He scowled in lordly
disdain at the gauche Victory decorations littering the formerly tranquil green spaces of the park, then
urged his stallion across Hyde Park Corner onto Serpentine Road. The morning sun sparkled on the
water to his left as he raced his stallion, pounding down the straightaway.
Hadn t he known all too well she was obsessed with money? She was constantly poring over her
financial treatises, stock charts, and reports from the Change. Idiot that he was, he had thought this an
endearing quality that bespoke her sharp intelligence. He had been too stupidly proud of her wit to
consider the implications of her greed.
He couldn t believe she had slapped him, though perhaps she d had every right to. He shouldn t have
sunk to the level of calling her a whore, but he had been driven as far as he could go, inside her sweet
body, moments away from climax, when he had been thrust off, pushed away as if his lovemaking
disgusted her. He had never felt so used and rejected in his life, he thought bitterly, standing in the
stirrups, riding low over the stallion s back as he swept onto the curving Ring in a cloud of dust.
He had been nothing but good to her. Never in a million years would he pay money to make love to
Belinda Hamilton or any woman. Damn it, he had thought they were beyond that.
Perhaps their falling out was for the best. She was a courtesan. If he were wise, he would be relieved at
the opportunity to distance himself before he got in any more deeply over his head. True, it hurt for now,
but in the long run, it was safer to let her pass out of his life. She had certainly made it clear last night that
she did not return his feelings.
Realizing his horse was getting winded, he slowed the animal to a trot.
The sight of the graveled path next to the Long Water, where he had walked with her on that first day,
made him miserable. If she didn t want him, that was just bloody fine with him. He sensed there were
things she wasn t telling him about her past, but how could he help her when she refused to trust him?
She could keep her secrets for all he cared.
One thing was clear: The time had come to confront Dolph Breckinridge and bring this matter to its swift
and bloody close. The sooner Miss High-And-Mighty Hamilton was out of his house and out of his life,
the better.
Somehow that thought made his mood even fouler.
He returned to Knight House at a comfortable canter, barely aware of the traffic. He gave his trusty
horse a loud pat on its gleaming neck and marched up to the door, drawing off his riding gloves. He felt
his stomach rumbling, but when he strode into the breakfast room precisely at the usual hour, there was
no sign of any omelette forthcoming, nor toast, nor juice, not so much as a cup of tea. His staff had
vanished.
He searched in astonishment, going all the way to the kitchens without seeing a sign of life. Finally he
pushed open the back door and found Belinda s two little street urchins playing in the flagstone delivery
area with the dogs.
The dogs bounded over to him, but he shoved them off, irked with their bouncy, tail-wagging good
cheer.
The two little boys shot bolt upright at his entrance, standing at attention like wooden soldiers.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Where is everyone? he demanded.
They looked at each other, then stared up at him, their eyes round.
I m waiting.
Boat ride, the shorter one blurted out.
Hawk blinked in bafflement. Pardon?
They held a conference, whispering to one another.
Where is Cook? Hawk demanded. Where is my breakfast?
Cook and her helpers went on a boat ride, sir.
But how can that be?
Miss Bel gave them a day off.
Oh, did she? Ha! he exclaimed with a short bark of outraged laughter.
One of the dogs whined and crouched down at his feet. The littler boy ducked behind the taller one.
Hawk growled and pivoted, marching back inside. If Miss Bel saw fit to give his servants the day off,
then Miss Bel could rouse her lovely arse out of bed and cook him breakfast. He ignored the two
children sneaking along behind him, spying on him. He plowed up the stairs and stomped down the
hallway, where he banged on the door of her apartment.
Get up, you lazy wench, he muttered under his breath. Miss Hamilton! I demand you open this door!
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plkajaszek.htw.pl
