( COMPLETED STORY)
What happens when the rakish Lord in the whole of London is truly falling in love with a simple, plain, and most ordinary girl, something he has been avoiding- his innermost fear. True love?
Miss Amy Ott is London's newest riddl...
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Nathaniel had barely brought his knuckle to the door before it opened. The butler of the Hensman house said nothing as he turned to lead Nathaniel further into the house. Frowning at the rude greeting, he followed the man.
The old gentleman said, "Here for Miss Ott, I presume?" He didn't sound glad about it.
"Yes."
He came to a stop at an open door. Voices could be heard from inside. It sounded like a good time, but when he approached the room, anger filled him. He didn't even hear his name announced as everyone's head turned towards him. There were men. A dozen of them, all surrounding the beautiful Miss Amy Ott. She smiled at her admirers, sharing her smile with them, before turning to look at Nathaniel.
"Oh, Lord Nathaniel. I didn't know you were coming."
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. She did indeed know he would be coming. He'd told her that he would be just the night before.
The other men all looked toward him in surprise.
Amy asked, "Are those flowers for me?" How any woman's voice could be a lethal combination of soothing and stirring still amazed him.
He stared down at the roses in his hands. He'd never given a woman a bouquet of roses. Sometimes a single rose, simply to tempt her into a kiss, but never a bouquet. He looked at her and noticed for the first time the many flowers already present in her lap. A feeling he'd never felt before approached him then. Embarrassment. He cleared his throat, "Yes. These are for you."
She smiled then. A slow and sweet smile that caused her beautiful eyes to crease and her lips to part. And it was all for him. It held him still and sucked the air right from his lungs. He hoped she never looked at another man like that. He wanted to own that look. Forever.
Forever? Where had that come from?
He took a step back.
Amy's brow lifted. "You're not planning to take my flowers with you, are you?" she teased. Teasing? Who was this woman who was driving him insane?
He stepped forward, moving around her lap dogs of men before giving her the flowers.
"Thank you, my lord," she whispered before bringing them up and inhaling their fragrance. Her lips covered by the white petals. Her eyes shining up at him, calling to his very essence. This temptation of a woman was not the Miss Ott he remembered.
His eyes moved over those around her, and for the first time he noticed that all the men seemed to be watching him with... what was that? Panic? He smiled and immediately remembered who he was. Lord Nathaniel Dawnton. The London Lover. They better fear him.
Lord Rodger spoke quickly, "Miss Ott, I was wondering if you'd like to take a turn around the garden."
Nathaniel frowned at the younger man. The way he stared at Amy, you'd think he was looking at the last cool drinking pond at the edge of a desert. Desperate for her to get as far away from Nathaniel as possible.
