Trevor waited for her at the bottom of the steps. She hoped to God she wouldn’t fall on her ass in front of him. She wasn’t used to wearing such high heels.

“You look lovely, Miss Campbell.” He wore an evening suit with a black tie and a crisp, white shirt.

Putting on one of her customer service smiles, she willed herself not to show signs of discomfort as the slit parted with every step, revealing her bare leg almost to her hip.

His eyes strayed there as he watched her descend. “I’m so glad it fits.”

Opening her mouth to say something clever and cutting, she forgot to kick her foot out ahead of the dress so she wouldn’t trip on the hem. She stumbled on the last step and stretched her arms toward him to keep from falling. He reached out at the same time and caught her.

By the boob.

***

Trevor cupped her large breast in one hand. Definitely real. His cock twitched in response.

He wanted to do more than simply cup it. Oh, the very dirty things he longed to do to Allie Campbell. It was good she couldn’t read his mind. Her poor little head might explode.

“I’m quite used to women falling for me, Miss Campbell, but you needn’t be so literal.”

She jerked herself up and stared at his hand. “You’re still touching me.”

Smiling cheerfully, he left his hand where it was. “So I am.”

She tried to smack it away, but he remained unmoved. He watched her pull herself together and attempt to throw an apathetic look on her face. He wasn’t fooled. A hot flush stole over her cheeks and those flashing eyes revealed everything she was feeling. And right now, she wanted to punch him.

“When you’re through feeling me up, may we eat? I’m starving.”

He gave her points for the cool note in her voice. He assumed a serious expression. “Yes, of course, Miss Campbell.” He gave her breast one last, gentle squeeze and winked before letting go. Then he offered his arm to escort her to dinner.

The dining room was large, with a table that could easily seat twenty. Not that he ever had guests. His home was a tranquil sanctuary in a chaotic world. Yellow and white flowers from the garden made up a floral arrangement in the middle of the table, and lighted tapers shimmered throughout the room.

Trevor led Allie to a seat next to the head of the table. When she sat, he saw the back of the dress for the first time. He was willing to bet she hated being on display. That made him smile.

Arnold served a salad and discreetly disappeared. Pouring them each a glass of wine, Trevor watched her from the corner of his eye.

Allie appeared stiff and uncomfortable as she placed the napkin on her lap. He liked it better when she was hissing at him.

“How is your room?”

“It’s fine, thank you.” She proceeded to eat a small bite of lettuce, keeping her eyes on her plate.

“And what about your family, Miss Campbell? How did they take the news?”

“They were upset.”

“Naturally. Did you tell them the truth?”

She laid down her fork and looked up at him. “What do you think, Mr. Blake?”

His gaze captured hers as he leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I do like it when you call me Mr. Blake. Maybe we’ll get you a naughty schoolgirl costume and I can play headmaster.”

Pink flagged her cheeks, but she picked up her fork and resumed eating.

There. That should take care of the Mr. Blake nonsense.

Arnold brought in the soup—lobster bisque with homemade croutons. One of Trevor’s favorites.

After taking a bite, Allie closed her eyes. With the smooth line of her throat exposed, those tantalizing tits peeking above the silky, black material, and it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself. But he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

Her eyes fluttered open. “This is delicious.”

“I’ll make sure Mrs. Hubert knows how much you like it.” Sounding hoarse, he took a sip of wine. Apparently this was going to be more difficult than he thought, living with Allie but not touching her. Torture, really, and he had brought it on himself.

“So, you don’t have any family left?” she asked.

“No, I don’t.” At least none he cared to claim.

Sympathy filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know what that’s like, losing people you love.”

He gave her a cold smile. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Miss Campbell. It’s you who should be pitied. If you didn’t care so much about your family, you’d have never agreed to fuck me.”

She drew a sharp breath, shock and anger flashed in her eyes. “You’re right. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t look at you twice. And I’d have slapped you into next week for the things you said to me.”

Yes, this was the fiery woman from this afternoon. He was glad she’d reappeared. Much better than the sympathetic, nervous Allie.

When Arnold served roasted game hens stuffed with wild rice, she smiled sweetly and thanked him. She’d never smiled at Trevor like that. Not once. He raised a brow at Arnold as the older man left the room.

“So, what’s with all the antiques and knickknacks?” She forked a piece of hen into her mouth.

“Knickknacks?”

“The tchotchkes. The miniature vases, the lockets, all the stuff in glass cases.”

He blinked. “Tchotchkes? They’re called objets d’art, Miss Campbell. There are books in the library about the various collections if you care to educate yourself.”

“How very grand,” she said in a fake British accent, her nose lifted in the air.

“That accent’s dreadful. And yes, it is terribly grand, but then so am I.”

“You really are an arrogant ass.”

“But a charming one.”

She rolled her eyes and finished her meal.

Once custard was served, Trevor turned to Arnold. “Thank you. We’ll call you when we’re done.”

“Very good, sir.”

Trevor refilled his wine glass. “Did you enjoy dinner, Miss Campbell? I thought for a moment you might lick the plate clean.”

Little lines near her eyes betrayed her stress, but she hid it well behind a smile that seemed almost genuine. “The food was delicious.”

“I’m so gratified.” He leaned back in his chair and studied her.

Her body stiffened under his scrutiny, and she cast her gaze on the flickering candle. He didn’t like it when she wasn’t relaxed with him. Even an angry response was much better than this tense nervousness.

He rose from his seat and held out his hand. “Come, Miss Campbell.”

A look of panic raced across her features, but she quickly mastered it. Taking his hand, she didn’t speak.

Instead of leading her out of the dining room, he walked to the terrace doors. When she realized he wasn’t taking her upstairs, the tightness around her eyes lessened—somewhat.

As they stepped outside, Trevor turned to her. “What do you think?”

In silence, she gaped at the lighted garden before her. A traditional English garden really, with stone paths and herbaceous borders and a profusion of flowers.

“This must cost a fortune to water,” she whispered.

Keeping hold of her hand, he led her down the steps and onto the garden path. “Yes, I believe it does.”

The comforting smell of blooming flowers enveloped him as they strolled beneath a dark sky, the half-moon partially visible through the clouds. “Do you like it?”

Her lips parted and she swiveled her head, taking in the trees, the roses, the purple and pink delphiniums. “Of course, it’s beautiful. How in the world do you grow all this here?”

“Most of the area was dug up and fresh soil brought in. You’re absolutely right though, it’s a frivolous expense. I’ve been thinking about tearing it out and putting a tennis court here instead.” They walked further toward the grotto swimming pool. “Do you play, Miss Campbell?”

“Not as well as you. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me. You’re not going to get rid of this garden. You wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if it wasn’t important to you.”