Page 20 of Carbon

“I’m not sure...”

“Look, I’ll just test the waters. Besides, you’ve got Gregory to attend to your needs.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes briefly at the thought of Gregory in bed. He’d probably keep his socks on and bring his laptop. When I opened my eyes again, Angie had disappeared, replaced by Mother, who wore a black look on her face.

“Augusta, you ordered lilies!”

“Uh, yes?” They were pretty.

“Serena Cunningham is allergic to lilies. She sneezed all over the hallway, and I’ve had to take her through to the drawing room. Go and help her, for goodness’ sake.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise—”

“Just go.”

How was I supposed to know about Serena’s allergies? I only saw her a few times a year, and she’d never said anything but hello. Still, I took a deep breath and trudged off.

By the time I’d packed Serena into a taxi with a box of tissues and a thousand apologies, Gregory had arrived, looking admittedly handsome in a dark grey suit. He smiled when he saw me, and I took a glass of wine from a passing waiter as I headed towards him.

“Augusta, have you met Dr. Sorensen? He specialises in orthopaedics.”

“Lovely.” Whatever that was.

“Knees,” Dr. Sorensen clarified, shaking my hand. “I fix knees.”

While he spoke to Gregory about some new kind of artificial cartilage, my heart skipped a beat as I caught sight of a dark-haired newcomer. Tall and well-built, even from behind, and the way he moved exuded sex appeal. Surely that couldn’t be...? He was about the same height as Midnight, and they both had muscles. Then a petite blonde slid under his arm, smiling, and Angie caught my eye from across the room.

“Viscount Northbury,” she mouthed, just as he turned around.

Of course. I remembered now.

Okay, so he wasn’t Midnight. I confess to being a little disappointed. I watched as Angie’s eyes drifted to his right, where another rather tasty man had arrived. With a lighter build than the viscount, his twinkling eyes and sexy smile meant Angie made a beeline right for him.

A spasm of jealousy rocked through me at the sight—what if he was Midnight? I forced myself to take a deep breath and think through what I knew. Midnight was strong—he’d proved that in the effortless way he’d held me against the wall, and he sure had muscles. I’d felt most of them, from his taut butt to his six-pack to his hard biceps. And even in my heels, he’d dipped his head to kiss me, which put him... I glanced at Gregory... No, Midnight was taller, which put him at six-foot plus. Definitely more like the viscount than his friend. Okay, Angie could have the other dude.

But it did leave me with the burning question: Who the hell was he? I tried to keep it subtle as I gazed around the room, searching for men who fit the criteria. By the time I’d got through my second glass of white, I’d narrowed it down to one man other than the viscount, and I was plucking up the courage to wander over and introduce myself when my clutch bag vibrated.

Was that Midnight?

Because if so, it ruled hot guy number two out—with a wine glass in one hand and the other gesturing as he spoke to an older gentleman, he couldn’t have sent a message right then.

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” I whispered to Gregory, and before he got the chance to reply, I hurried from the room.

Three women were queuing for the downstairs toilets, so I slipped into the TV room just along the corridor. Then left rather hurriedly at the sight of my sister getting it on with the brown-haired guy from earlier.

“As you were,” I muttered, cheeks burning, but I wasn’t sure she even noticed my presence.

Desperate for privacy, I shut myself into the coat closet, sank to the floor, and pulled my phone from my bag, keeping my fingers crossed as well as my toes.

Mr. M

Meet me at midnight. The stables. Last loose box on the left.

I couldn’t resist sending a message back.

Are you going to bring your riding crop?

A minute passed, then two. Shit. Would he see the funny side? What if I’d overstepped the mark and he was freaking out about the prospect of a bondage session? Should I—?

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