Page 82 of Her Beast

When he came, Malcolm closed his eye and summoned the face of the only woman he wanted.

Chapter 17

Julia had decided that Mr. Barton wouldn’t be joining her for breakfast when he appeared at the French doors without a sound.

“Oh, you startled me,” she said, raising a hand to cover her pounding heart.

Only part of her racing pulse was due to surprise, the rest was the effect the man himself had on her—especially when she thought about what he’d looked like the last time she’d seen him, gleaming with sweat and more than a little feral.

“Good morning, Julia”

She watched from beneath lowered lashes as he approached the buffet, huge, dark, and menacing—like a bear or a tiger or some other dangerous, mysterious animal she should be running from rather than gravitating toward.

Her whole body was pulsing justlookingat him, seeing him as he’d been last night, when he’d been thrusting into his lover so hard that Julia swore she could feel it in another room.

Malcolm turned from the buffet, took his seat at the head of the table—which had, unfortunately, been returned to its usual size—and then tucked into his meal.

Julia had already consumed more than enough tea, but she nodded at James’s offer of a fresh pot.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Malcolm asked.

“Yes, very.” She hesitated and then asked, “And you?”

He took a sip of black coffee before answering. “I have insomnia. I never sleep through the night.”

“That must be terrible.”

“I’ve always had it so I don’t know any different.”

“What do you do?”

He paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, and cocked an eyebrow at her, his lips twisted into a smile so faint she might have been imagining it.

But Julia knew she wasn’t imagining it.

Sheknewthey were both thinking about the sorts of things he did late at night—although she hoped to God that he didn’t know thatsheknew.

“I—I mean do you read or work or—”

“I do a lot of work at night,” he said shortly. “You’re not hungry today?” he asked, cutting into a deviled kidney while Julia toyed with a piece of toast.

“I’ve had plenty.” She hesitated, and then said, “Might we have another exchange of, er, questions?”

He paused, suddenly looking more… alert. “Of course. Ladies first,” he said, and then popped a piece of kidney into his mouth.

“Are you going to hurt my father?” Julia felt guilty that she’d not asked it before—it should have been the first question she asked. The fact that it hadn’t even occurred to her was more than a little bit mortifying. What sort of unnatural daughter must she be?

One who is tired of being hit in the face and used as a bargaining chip in business negotiations,an unhelpful part of her brain suggested.

Malcolm chewed, swallowed, and took a mouthful of coffee. “Not physically.”

She stared, considering what that meant. While a plainnowould have been better,not physicallywas good. Wasn’t it?

He continued to work his way through his food.

“Aren’t you going to ask your question?” she finally asked.

He took a sip of coffee, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and then tossed it on his plate. “You can have it.”

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