Alexandras jaw dropped. How dare he tell her where she was going and what she was doing tomorrow afternoon? She whirled and took out some of her frustration by kicking a stool across the room.
Ow! She hurt her toe and hopped over to the sofa, holding it. Blast that man!
Lord Thorpe, she decided, was the most arrogant, aggravating, high-handed man she had ever had the misfortune to meet. First he left her at the party, telling her to wait there, as if she were a dog or a servant. Then he had the nerve to tell her that she should not have left the party without him, that she had not heard what she had, and that it was her fault someone had attacked her because she had walked home alone. And he had finished it all off by telling her that he was taking her to the Countesss the next afternoon, as if she had nothing to say in the matter!
The awful thing, she had to admit to herself, was that despite all that, no matter his arrogance or his ordering her about, she was still all aquiver from those moments when they had kissed. His kisses had stirred her in ways she had never known before, and even now she felt hot and jitteryand if he walked in the door this instant, she would have to struggle to keep from running to him to kiss him again! How could a man infuriate her so much and at the same time make her want him so? Alexandra would not have thought it possible.
Her aunt bustled in. Has he left? Her eyes searched Alexandras face carefully.
Yes. Why are you looking at me like that?
Like what?
I dont knowas if you are searching for something.
No. Its onlyIve never seen you look at someone that way.
What way?
The way you looked at Mr. Thorpe.
Lord Thorpe.
Of course. Lord Thorpe. Her aunt rolled her eyes. These Englishmen and their infernal love of titles. As if that makes any difference to what the man is. She paused. Alexandra, do youhave feelings for this man?