Page 32 of Impassioned
Constantine blinked as he pulled his thoughts from distraction. “He must be managed—contained. At least at certain times. He can’t run roughshod about the house when we have guests.” They rarely ever had guests, and even then, it was only family. Still, his father and Lady Aldington’s parents would likely be horrified to see an animal running about. The thought of it nearly made him laugh.
“Why are you smiling?” Lady Aldington asked, sounding bemused.
“No reason.” Constantine coughed. “We must find this cat at once. I take it this is the first time he’s run amok?”
“Yes, my lord,” Haddock replied, taking his arm from his wife.
Mrs. Haddock slid her arm from her husband’s waist and moved to the side. “I do apologize for this wholly inappropriate interlude.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Aldington said, surprising everyone in the room with her firm tone. “I’m glad you helped this poor kitten, and why shouldn’t you welcome him into your family? Is there anything we can do to coax Grayson out? Does he have a favorite treat or a toy?”
Constantine stared at the woman who was taking charge of this situation. He kept repeating himself, but by God shewasdifferent. Meanwhile, all he could think was where did this cat live? Did the Haddocks carry him upstairs to their suite of rooms on the uppermost floor? If so, how did he get outside from there?
However, rather than demand answers to these questions, he decided perhaps he should change a bit too. Indeed, whyshouldn’this married butler and housekeeper have a pet cat?
Because this isn’t their house!
The response speared into his head in his father’s voice, as most admonitions did. This one in particular pricked Constantine’s ire. It may not be the Haddocks’ house, but they effectively ran it. The household would be a shambles if not for them. So yes, they could have a bloody cat.
“I’ll go down to the kitchen to fetch a kidney. Those are his favorite.” Mrs. Haddock started toward the door.
“And I’ll find the stuffed mouse Mrs. Haddock made for him.” Haddock cocked his head to the side. ‘It doesn’t really look like a mouse, just a small stuffed…thing. We call it his mouse, however. He is rather good at catching the real ones, my lord. If that helps to soften your opinion.” The butler gave him a feeble smile before departing.
“Does my opinion seem hard?” Constantine threw the query out to the room at large, but since only his wife remained, she was the one to respond.
“You always seem…cool. Not hard, though.”
He turned toward her. “I thought you said I was dispassionate.”
“And cool. Perhaps.” Light swathes of pink flashed across her cheeks.
Dispassionate and cool were not wrong. That was who his father had schooled him to be. When Constantine thought of his siblings, those words didn’t come to mind. But perhaps this was who he truly was. Except why then did he have a sudden urge to show the countess that he could be heated and…impassioned?
“Perhaps I will be different too,” he murmured.
Her lips parted, and he wanted to kiss her in a thoroughly different fashion than he had last night. He’d never opened his mouth against hers or put his tongue inside or invited hers. Would she recoil if he attempted such a thing? She’d appeared to do that last night when he’d lightly touched her breast. But then she’d also seemed to enjoy his hand on her sex.
“There he is!” Sabrina dropped her gloves and flew after the gray streak as it dashed toward the bloody window draperies again.
“He loves drapes,” Constantine muttered as he joined the chase. “Careful. Cats have sharp claws.”
“Close the doors so he can’t get out!” She pulled the draperies aside, and the cat ran out into the room.
Constantine dove for the doors that led to the dining room and then for the one that opened to the corridor from the stair hall, slamming them closed more quickly and loudly than he normally would.
“He’s in your study again!” Lady Aldington called.
Turning on his heel, Constantine ran into the study and shut the door behind him. Lady Aldington was on her knees near the window.
“Is he hiding in the drapes again?” Constantine asked.
“Shh. I’m going to wait patiently. I think he’s scared.”
Constantine didn’t have all day. He had a racing club meeting and needed to go upstairs to change. But then the view of his wife’s backside could likely persuade him to ignore everything he had planned.
“I suppose we should fetch Haddock or Mrs. Haddock,” she suggested. “Grayson will likely feel more comfortable with them.” She looked back at Constantine over her shoulder. “You could go fetch one of them while I stay here.”
There was something very wrong with him. Watching her in this position made him want to strip her bare and take her from behind in the most obscene way. He imagined the bare flesh of her back, exposed as it had been at the rout last night. Blood rushed to his cock. What was happening to him? He’d never fantasized about her like this, certainly not to the extent he was in the past quarter bloody hour.
