said.
“I’ve been working out a bit.” His mouth lifted at one end.
“I better go in.”
Jimmy knew about my mother’s drug habit. “Can I help?” he asked.
I touched his arm. “If I need that, I’ll ask. Thanks.” I hugged him, and his frame tightened before softening a little.
17
* * *
BLAKE
EVERY SUNDAY, I VISITED Milly, who I considered family even though we weren’t blood related. When she became an invalid, I moved her from Yorkshire to my home in Mayfair, and despite the round-the-clock care, she still pined for the country.
Milly became my surrogate mother after I lost my own mother to Sir William, her boss. I sensed there was something between them, but that remained a mystery.
I fell into thinking about Penelope again. Her taste lingered on my lips, and just the thought of being inside of her made my cock hard.
Lost for words, I retreated into myself. Normally after fucking, I’d part with a woman. There was no morning after, so to speak. Ever. Penelope was a first. I’d even fallen asleep holding her, which wasn’t part of my plan. I woke to find her soft warmth pressed against me. I’d suddenly discovered what holding someone really felt like. Good. Really good. I’d never longed for that experience until Penelope.
Extricating myself from her body while she slept had been torture, but I had to. I might have harmed her. Reluctantly, I crept off to an adjoining guest room and ended up staring at the ornate ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. I just kept feeling her breasts against my chest and hearing her sighs when I fucked her the second time. Her wild spasms had clenched my dick, setting off a mind-blowing orgasm the like of which I’d never experienced before. Penelope’s responsiveness left me breathless. By morning, I’d become greedy.
At dawn, I snuck back into the bed.
She fitted into me naturally as though our bodies were made to be one. And then she turned toward me, her beautiful face smiling shyly. I devoured her rosebud lips imagining how they’d feel wrapped around my cock. As I fucked her from behind, I climaxed so violently that Pierce might have mistaken my tormented groans for one of my nightmares.
When I tried calling her, I got her voicemail. I didn’t leave a message, because I hated leaving messages unless it was business. I tried once more, but she didn’t pick up.
Remembering how Penelope’s phone had played up after she’d tried to call her friend when we were driving back to Mayfair, I called Patrick.
He picked up straight away. “Blake.”
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Sure.”
“Buy a cell phone, set it up with a sim card, and deliver it to Penelope. You’ve got the address where I left her this morning.”
“I’m onto it.”
“Thanks. And Patrick, let me know when she receives it, and text me the number.”
“Will do.”
* * *
I SLIPPED THROUGH THE RECEPTION area, ran up the stairs, and knocked on Milly’s door.
“Come in.”
I walked in and found her at the window with a blanket over her knees. Her warm smile always made my day. I went to her, and bending down, I kissed her on the cheek, taking away her signature lavender fragrance.
“Hello, Blake. I almost didn’t think you’d make it.”
“I got a little delayed. Sorry.” I smiled tightly.
“Oh, you haven’t anything to apologize for, my boy. It’s a miracle that you come so regularly. I’m humbled by your devotion.” She smiled.
“I’d always let you know if I wasn’t coming.” I placed the bag of goodies at her table. “Just some chocolates and magazines.”
“Oh, you spoil me.” She studied me. “Something’s different. Tell me— have you met a woman?”
I contorted my face. “Huh? What gives you that impression?”
“There. You have. You’d normally jump in quickly and deny it. When one’s been around as long as me, it’s easy to read the signs.”
I took a deep breath. There was no hiding anything from Milly.
I sat down to join her at the window seat. In the distance, a large flock of birds formed a V shape and, as always, filled me with wonder.
“What’s her name?”
“Penelope,” I responded resignedly.
“She must be pretty.”
“She’s more than pretty. She’s beautiful. An artist.”
She rubbed her hands together. “That’s so romantic. I prefer that to learning that she’s from a rich family. They’re not to be trusted, those types.”
I smiled at her hushed tones.
Her eyes narrowed. She studied me further, like a doctor would, only Milly was checking for the pulse of my soul. “You look a little sad, though.”
“Am