in the doorway.
Amelia instinctively snatched her hand back and then cursed herself for acting like a thief caught in the act. Peering over Alex’s bowed head, she met Thomas’s gaze. His green eyes narrowed and his mouth firmed.
“I thought you were on your way out?” Although he addressed Lord Alex, his gaze held hers.
Straightening, Lord Alex turned to him, his expression unperturbed. “How could I depart without saying good-bye to Lady Amelia?” he asked, a note of mocking, chastisement in his voice.
Thomas observed them, his features set in a severe cast. “Don’t let me stop you.” The chill in his voice and his stance—wide-legged and bold—emitted a challenge. A pregnant silence followed, the atmosphere thick with the kind of tension capable of destroying friendships.
Alex returned his friend’s regard before moving back to her, a wry smile on his face. “I’m getting the distinct feeling I’m being ushered out. Once again, my dear Lady Amelia, I hope we can further our acquaintance in the near future.”
“I would be so honored, Lord Alex,” Amelia replied, ever conscious Thomas loomed behind them like a menacing prison guard. Perhaps, that’s what goaded her on. “I do hope you’ll join us for Christmas in Berkshire. It would be lovely to see a friendly face—never mind one so handsome.”
As if he understood the reason for her flirtatious compliment, his smile stretched the full width of his jaw. “You make it impossible to refuse.” Grasping her hand again, he brought it to his lips for another kiss.
“Don’t you have a train to catch?” Thomas bit out each syllable.
Lord Alex peered up at her, and with another audacious wink, he released her hand, executed a shallow bow, and turned to Thomas. “I see I have greatly overstayed my welcome. Don’t get so worked up—I’m leaving.”
“Amelia has important work to do. Bid your adieu and go.”
Lord Alex strode to the door, passing his friend’s stiff form without a word. At the threshold, he shot a glance back at Thomas. “I gather then I’ll see you at Rutherford’s.” With that parting shot, he was gone.
“I’m surprised you have any friends at all,” Amelia said, peeved and perversely pleased at his highhanded manner.
“You will stay away from Cartwright, do you understand me?” Gone was the stoic man of minutes before as was his veneer of civility.
“I believe I can manage that now that he’s gone.”
His hands, fisted at his sides, moved spasmodically. His green eyes blazed as if he wanted to wring her neck and only the thought of hanging from a rope in the middle of Trafalgar Square prevented him.
“That you find me objectionable for your friend but availed yourself of me is truly the height of hypocrisy.” Amelia hadn’t intended to say a word about the prior night, but too frequently the man caused her to speak without thought.
“When I discover an uninvited woman in my chambers, I’m obligated to have my way with her.” His reply came back with biting promptness. “And as I’m sure you recall, my intentions were welcomed with great enthusiasm. But I’m sure that’s the part you most want to forget.”
Smug, arrogant cad. He’d find every opportunity to throw the incident back in her face. “I unfortunately lack your vast pool of experience as to what is de rigueur in that particular situation.”
His mouth quirked in a fashion she found infuriating: smug yet grim. “It certainly didn’t stop you from scratching my back and howling like a cat in heat.”
Reflectively, Amelia lowered her head to hide the blush scorching her cheeks. Her father had always said she was impetuous. This was one conversation she wished she hadn’t broached.
“Ah, I see you have no response to that.”
She could hear the amusement in his voice. He sounded like he was rubbing his hands together in glee.
Amelia jerked her head up and pinned him with a withering stare. “You are deplorable.”
His smile broadened. “I don’t believe that’s what you said last night. If I recall, you could barely speak. There was all that gasping, whimpering, and moaning. Whoever thought you would be such a lustful bedmate. Thankfully, I discovered before it was too late, the best way to—”
The chair toppled wildly as Amelia sprang to her feet. Her heart pounded madly. “Stop! Stop! I will not sit here and listen to this. You are the most—the most—” She broke off, the right word failing her. At that moment, there wasn’t a word strong enough, heinous enough to describe Thomas Armstrong.
“Skilled lover you ever had?” he asked innocently.
“Ha!”