The Dangerous Duke of Blackton Manor

The burning began again.

Did she just kick me... Did she really just do that?

He wanted to laugh but he was still sorting the idea that this chit had just kicked him. Unbelievable, She was unbelievable!

She had stolen his money, basically lived in his home and had physically abused him. It hadn't really hurt, but the need to rub the spot she just kicked was there.

Mrs Isabella Taylor was like no other woman he had ever met before.

He couldn't help it. Laughter escaped him. He had to laugh at this entire scenario because what else could one do?

She was a conniving,only grabbing, inheritance stealing mistress who would do whatever she must, and she had a temper to match his own.

No wonder the old mans body failed with this woman in his life. So far her company had sent his heart beating increasing so, and he did not even like her.

He would just have to remind other parts of himself of that fact as it didn't stop his blood from leaving his vital organs and heading south to that of another more inclined toward her.

He felt arousal swell, Jesus what the hell was going on.

He shifted once more and this time he took care not to knock his legs against her own.
He was eager for the journey to end.

His aunt was quietly sat crying moments away from him, yet still he was aware of this charged air between himself and the woman opposite him.

What was it about small confined spaces?

Isabella reluctantly accepted his hand as he helped her down as the returned to Blackton Manor and felt the burning of his flesh against hers, just like when he had placed his arms around her.

It was a burning hate she assured herself. A deep burning hate.

It had to be.

She removed her fingers as quickly as they had touched his and walked toward the house not uttering a word of thanks.

Aunt Margaret disappeared to her room and Jack had stayed at his uncles grave a little Longer.

'Isabella?' he caught up with her in the large foyer of the hall way.

'My name is Mrs Taylor, Your Grace'

he ignored her 'Isabella.'

She rolled her eyes as he continued

'I intend to return to London later. I don't dare stay any longer than is required.'

She huffed 'That is for the best I agree. I mean, I'm sure you have a great many...friends who wish to comfort and console you on the loss of your father.'

She knew she should never have started reading The Times.

The paper had given her all the gossip over the last year, and he was mentioned regularly, 'Future Duke Blackheart' had been linked with many woman over time. She mentally scolded herself for that one.

Blackheart indeed. He smiled a roguish smile '

'Indeed I do.' He stepped closer, the tips of their toes touching.

'Unless you would like to console me over the loss? Perhaps we could comfort one another Isabella?'

My name is Mrs Tay...'She stomped her little foot, this time unintentionally coming down on top of his, and she was cut off by his mouth coming down on top of hers. She melted Into his kiss for a few seconds and then wrenched her mouth free of his, nipping his lip as she went. He let her go and he dabbed at his bottom lip. 'You really don't like me do you? In fact I'm sure I've never had anyone attempt to cause me injury so much in so little time.' He watched her ball her tiny fists at her sides. He continued 'attempt is accurate, however you have one hell of a slap to you madam, I applaud you.' He clapped slowly three times and it echoed through the high ceilings. She felt humiliated, angry, confused. She felt tears collect at the corner of her eyes but never would she let anyone see her cry, least of all this monster of a man. He watched her hold her head high, her pert straight tiny nose in the air as she turned her back to him and left him somehow feeling bereft. Once again he shrugged his shoulders as he watched her retreating back, he touched his fingers to see a tiny speck of crimson on his hand. He licked his lip and swallowed the metallic taste of blood and setting off to find himself a hefty drink.