Chapter 7

She simply stared at him, eyes wide with shock and her beguiling mouth parted in surprise. If they weren’t standing in the middle of this blasted park he would kiss her so thoroughly that she’d understand why he was not about to give up that painting and just how badly he wanted her.

He let his hand drop before he slid his palm behind her head and lowered his mouth to hers. “What functions are you attending tonight?”

She blinked as her eyebrows drew together before she shook her head, as if coming out of a trance. Oh, if only he had the power to mesmerize her.

“I’m staying in,” she finally answered.

“Might I call on you?”

Her eyes widened with fear and she took a step back. “Goodness, no.”

“Is that because you don’t wish for me to court you?”

“Court?”

He grinned. He’d fully shocked her, which he found delightful indeed. “Yes. Court. I’d like to come to know the lady I’ve been obsessing over for the past three years.”

“You truly wish to court me?” Her brow furrowed and she frowned, as if she didn’t believe him.

“Surely I am not the first gentleman to wish to do so?” Why was she so surprised?

Lady Jillian narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “To what purpose?”

“Why can’t you believe it is simply because I wish to know you better?”

“Because nobody ever has. I’m just a means to an end, and if you expect to gain favor with my father, he will never approve.”

He laughed. “I am well aware that I am far beneath him and you.”

“Him,” she corrected quickly.

Sam lifted an eyebrow. “Not you?”

“No.” Again she answered quickly.

“Yet, I cannot call on you?”

“Father would never allow it.” The sadness he wished to erase flooded her eyes again. “Thank you for assuring me of your trust. I’m glad we had this conversation.” Lady Jillian turned. “Good day, Mr. Storm.”

She hurried away from him as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels, and Sam was fairly certain that if she wasn’t a lady in a public park, she would have run back to her brother.

Lady Jillian was not immune to him, but she hadn’t granted him permission to call on her either.

Of course, she never would. His Grace had her too well trained, or was she simply too afraid of her father to go against his dictate?

Not that Sam would let that minor inconvenience stop him. As he once obsessed over the painting, he now obsessed over the model. He had to have her or at least know her better. Until then, he’d not be able to move forward or even contemplate returning home. In the end, he may be satisfied with what he learned and be able to hide the painting away. Or he would be taking Lady Jillian back with him to Barbados, whether her father approved or not. And, the only way his future could be determined was if he pursued the lady who haunted his dreams.

Jillian forced a smile as she approached her brother and Mr. Storm’s younger sisters. “Please excuse us. I find I must return home.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned toward her brother’s phaeton. She needed to get out of there before Mr. Storm caught up to her.

Tears stung her eyes, but she held them in check, while her pulse raced and her stomach churned. For the first time in her life, a gentlemen really wished to know her. Court her, not her father or the hope of gaining favor from His Grace.

But what if it was all a lie?

What if there was something he wanted and this was all a ruse?

What did she even know about him, other than the queer sensations in the pit of her stomach, the heating of her blood, the desire to know how he kissed?

Everyone wanted something. Could she trust that he simply wanted her?

“What the blazes is wrong with you?” Henry hissed as he helped her up to the seat.

“I just need to return home.”

He hopped into the driver’s seat and took the reins. “It’s more than that. You’re as pale as a ghost and are shaking like a leaf in a storm.”

Her chest was tight and Jillian was finding it difficult to breathe. Anxiety washed through her, and all she wanted to do was find her bed in a dark room.

“Tell me what has you so upset,” Henry demanded as he moved into traffic. “If Storm has insulted or hurt you in any manner, I will see that he pays.”

Jillian turned to him. “You have it all wrong,” she cried.

“Then what is it?”

“He wishes to court me.”

Her brother didn’t react immediately. After a moment his shoulders relaxed, and then he tilted his head as if in contemplation, and then he smiled. “Good for him.”

“He knows Father will never approve.”

“Somehow I don’t believe Storm will let that stop him, and he has my full support.”