Page 14 of The Defiant One
And wished that he would put on some clothes. Any clothes. Lord, even a coat would have done wonders.
Stop thinking about what lies beneath that blanket!
But she couldn't. Any more than she could will away this annoying, hot-and-prickly feeling that had so unexpectedly come over her. And as she walked mutely beside him, the air between them stiff with tension, she was disturbingly aware of how tall he was. How refreshing — no, how strange — it felt to find someone whose height surpassed her own, whose very stature made her feel as tiny as she wished she actually were, who made her feel less of a . . .
Well, less of a gawky freak.
Was his — she glanced furtively at the blanket cloaking his hips — anatomy of full stature as well?
She blushed furiously.
"I don't think this is such a good idea after all," she snapped, all too aware of the way her body was responding to her handsome, dog-abusing escort and not liking it one bit.
"It is a brilliant idea."
"What, you clad in nothing but a blanket, me without my maid or suitable escort, and you leading me to God-only-knows-where? I am not sure it is quite so brilliant at all."
"It is brilliant because it is obviously not in Lucien's plans."
"What on earth do Lucien's plans have to do with anything?"
He marched her out of the main house and through the doors to another wing. "Really, madam. Do you honestly believe that the servant who brought you to my bedroom didn't do so on purpose?"
"Perhaps he got lost whilst trying to find your laboratory."
"Rubbish. That servant has been working for us for the last twenty years, and his father worked for us before that. He knew perfectly well where he was taking you. I would bet everything I own that he was merely following orders. Lucien's orders. After all, my brother invited you out here, didn't he?"
"No, I took it upon myself to come. I wanted to see for myself what evil cruelty you practice in your laboratory."
His lips thinned in an unamused smile. "I see."
"Well, I'm glad you do, because I'm feeling very confused right about now . . . Why do you say your brother invited me here? And why would he direct the servant to bring me to your apartments when it was obvious you were in no state to receive visitors?"
"Because he's a troublemaking monster who delights in making me miserable, that's why." He shoved open a set of carved oak doors. "Here we are. Watch where you step."
Celsie pulled away from him and came up short. She found herself in a grand chamber, with bookcases built into the walls, a high, plastered ceiling, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a lovely floor of gleaming teak. A huge worktable, crowded with bottles, jars, notebooks, burned-down candles, crumpled-up papers, open books, and a discarded coat, dominated the room. An easel, upon which were scribbled some mathematical or chemical formulas — Celsie had not a clue which — was pulled up beside a high stool. The room smelled predominantly of new paint, new floor, new everything, though Celsie could detect the underlying scents of sulfur, vinegar, and something that had been recently burned.
There was not an animal in sight.
Not a cage, not a leash, not a dead dog anywhere to be found.
"But . . ." She looked up at him in helpless confusion. "Where are the animals you are experimenting on?"
"I do not experiment on animals."
"But you said at the ball that —"
"No, those were my brother's words, and after you attacked me as you did, and in such an embarrassingly public way, I was so angry that I chose to let you believe them. But I never confirmed such codswallop, did I?"
Celsie could only stand there staring at him with her mouth hanging open. Then she blushed and looked away.
"Oh," she said, in a little voice. "Oh — I am so sorry . . ."
"I do not get out in public much, madam, but when I do, I would prefer that people do not get any worse an impression of me than they already have."
"I was not aware that people already had a bad impression of you," she mumbled, still unable to meet his gaze.
"You yourself called me strange, did you not?"
