Stourbridge would be considered crime enough.
So, yes, she obviously had the option of coming clean—of telling Lucan exactly who she was. But it was a disclosure that would no doubt make the contempt Lexie had faced this morning—when Lucan had believed her behaviourtowards Andrew Proctor to be unprofessional—seem like child’s play in comparison.
Had some part of her always relished Lucan knowing who she was? Wanted to somehow spring that knowledge on him, like a magician bringing a rabbit out of a hat, and then enjoy watching Lucan squirm?
If so, then Lexie knew she didn’t feel that way any longer. Just a few hours in Lucan’s company had been enough to tell her she would be the one who came out worst in any springing of her relationship to Sian Thomas on him!
She stood up abruptly to cross the kitchen and stand near the warmth of the oven. As far away from Lucan as it was possible to get in the confines of what was actually a cavernous kitchen, but seemed to be getting steadily smaller and smaller by the second.
‘What would
you
be doing now if you were in London? Out with a beautiful woman, dining at some exclusive restaurant, no doubt? ‘ she prompted derisively.
Lucan studied Lexie’s flushed and challenging face for several long seconds. There was something about the way her gaze refused to meet his and the husky tone of her voice that told him that wasn’t what she had intended saying. That she was deliberately trying to irritate him.
‘I
am
with a beautiful woman,’ he pointed out softly. ‘And Cathy’s casserole smells better than anything I could buy in a restaurant—exclusive or otherwise,’ he added ruefully, effectively cutting off the scathing comment he was sure had been about to come out of Lexie’s sexy mouth at his compliment; there was nothing she could say after his last comment that wouldn’t sound rude to Cathy Barton’s generosity!
Instead she turned away and began busying herself getting out the plates and cutlery they would need to eat.‘The casserole is ready to serve now. I was just waiting for you.’
Lucan stood up. ‘Would you like some red wine to go with it?’
‘Not enough for you to have to bother going down to the cellar and—’ She broke off, her eyes wide as she turned sharply to face him. ‘At least, I presume that’s where you keep your wine?’ she added offhandedly.
‘Some of it.’ Lucan gave a slow inclination of his head, his narrowed gaze still fixed intently on Lexie’s slightly pale face. ‘But there’s probably a bottle or two of red in the back of the food pantry.’
‘You don’t come here very often, do you?’ Once again Lexie decided that offence was the best form of defence if she wanted to deflect Lucan’s attention from the fact that she had made yet another slip by mentioning knowing there was a cellar at Mulberry Hall.
‘Actually, I attended my brother’s wedding here a week ago,’ he dismissed. ‘And if that was a pick up line then you didn’t say it quite right…’ He quirked dark and mocking brows.
As if! Only a woman who didn’t mind playing with fire would even
think
of becoming involved with Lucan St Claire. Which was a strange thing for Lexie to have thought, considering she had initially thought him so icily cold.
The truth was that Lexie was having trouble continuing to see Lucan that way. How could she think of him as cold when she was still totally aware of the warmth that had emanated from him earlier? Of the feeling as if she were standing on the edge of a volcano that was threatening to erupt and engulf her in its heat?
Outwardly, there was no doubting that Lucan was a cold and arrogant man, but beneath that coldness Lexie realisedthere was a powerful force. A physical energy that was overwhelming in its intensity.
Much like a magnet, drawing Lexie slowly but surely towards him.
And she didn’t want to be drawn to Lucan—recognised only too well the danger of such an attraction.
‘I don’t
So, yes, she obviously had the option of coming clean—of telling Lucan exactly who she was. But it was a disclosure that would no doubt make the contempt Lexie had faced this morning—when Lucan had believed her behaviourtowards Andrew Proctor to be unprofessional—seem like child’s play in comparison.
Had some part of her always relished Lucan knowing who she was? Wanted to somehow spring that knowledge on him, like a magician bringing a rabbit out of a hat, and then enjoy watching Lucan squirm?
If so, then Lexie knew she didn’t feel that way any longer. Just a few hours in Lucan’s company had been enough to tell her she would be the one who came out worst in any springing of her relationship to Sian Thomas on him!
She stood up abruptly to cross the kitchen and stand near the warmth of the oven. As far away from Lucan as it was possible to get in the confines of what was actually a cavernous kitchen, but seemed to be getting steadily smaller and smaller by the second.
‘What would
you
be doing now if you were in London? Out with a beautiful woman, dining at some exclusive restaurant, no doubt? ‘ she prompted derisively.
Lucan studied Lexie’s flushed and challenging face for several long seconds. There was something about the way her gaze refused to meet his and the husky tone of her voice that told him that wasn’t what she had intended saying. That she was deliberately trying to irritate him.
‘I
am
with a beautiful woman,’ he pointed out softly. ‘And Cathy’s casserole smells better than anything I could buy in a restaurant—exclusive or otherwise,’ he added ruefully, effectively cutting off the scathing comment he was sure had been about to come out of Lexie’s sexy mouth at his compliment; there was nothing she could say after his last comment that wouldn’t sound rude to Cathy Barton’s generosity!
Instead she turned away and began busying herself getting out the plates and cutlery they would need to eat.‘The casserole is ready to serve now. I was just waiting for you.’
Lucan stood up. ‘Would you like some red wine to go with it?’
‘Not enough for you to have to bother going down to the cellar and—’ She broke off, her eyes wide as she turned sharply to face him. ‘At least, I presume that’s where you keep your wine?’ she added offhandedly.
‘Some of it.’ Lucan gave a slow inclination of his head, his narrowed gaze still fixed intently on Lexie’s slightly pale face. ‘But there’s probably a bottle or two of red in the back of the food pantry.’
‘You don’t come here very often, do you?’ Once again Lexie decided that offence was the best form of defence if she wanted to deflect Lucan’s attention from the fact that she had made yet another slip by mentioning knowing there was a cellar at Mulberry Hall.
‘Actually, I attended my brother’s wedding here a week ago,’ he dismissed. ‘And if that was a pick up line then you didn’t say it quite right…’ He quirked dark and mocking brows.
As if! Only a woman who didn’t mind playing with fire would even
think
of becoming involved with Lucan St Claire. Which was a strange thing for Lexie to have thought, considering she had initially thought him so icily cold.
The truth was that Lexie was having trouble continuing to see Lucan that way. How could she think of him as cold when she was still totally aware of the warmth that had emanated from him earlier? Of the feeling as if she were standing on the edge of a volcano that was threatening to erupt and engulf her in its heat?
Outwardly, there was no doubting that Lucan was a cold and arrogant man, but beneath that coldness Lexie realisedthere was a powerful force. A physical energy that was overwhelming in its intensity.
Much like a magnet, drawing Lexie slowly but surely towards him.
And she didn’t want to be drawn to Lucan—recognised only too well the danger of such an attraction.
‘I don’t
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