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“Do not be jealous, darling. I’ve been thinking of you the whole time,” Mick drawled.

“Mick!” Jo spat. “We’ve been waiting for you for hours! How could you miss the rehearsal again? We perform in three days. What are you going to do?”

Mick stood, his deflated length bobbing at his every move. Jo swallowed the urge to gag.

“I will perform. You do not have to worry. Have I ever failed you?”

“Should I name all the times that you have?” Jo raised her brow.

Mick stalked toward her without bothering to cover up his nakedness. “You want me,” he said. “I can see that. Passion is burning in your eyes. You just can’t wait to order me about in bed, can you?”

Jo clenched her jaw. “If you have no respect for me, at least show up at the rehearsals for the sake of the others!”

Mick moved closer still. He was only inches away from her now, his chest level with her chin, his heat making her feel uncomfortable. His scent made her nauseous.

Jo didn’t step away. She held her ground just like she always did. If she showed even a tiny bit of weakness, he’d exploit it. He’d never let up.

“I have more than respect for you. I have something even better.” He lowered his eyes suggestively to his swelling cock. “You are so frigid, I think you need to relax… A nice, long rut.”

Jo gulped and wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps you are right,” she said sweetly. “Unfortunately, there are no eligible men in sight who would be able to provide said nice, long rut.” Her eyes flicked to his cock disdainfully, and she was about to turn away, but Mick snarled and lunged at her, trapping her between his body and the door.

His teeth were bared, his nose wrinkled in anger, while his erection pointed at her stomach.

Jo’s fingers dug into her palms as she tried to keep herself from trembling. As it was, her breath was accelerated, her breasts brushing against Mick’s chest.

His lips twisted in an ugly grimace of a smile. “Relax,” he said and stepped away. “It’s not like I was going to hurt you.”

Jo leaned against the door, trying to pick up the pieces of her dignity. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. “We have a show to perform in three days—”

“Would you calm down?” Mick went back to his bed and lay down. “I know my lines. I am the best actor in London. I can perform without unnecessary rehearsals. Just hope everyone else knows what they are doing, and leave me alone. I know you like to feel superior, darling. But that won’t work on me. Not on a real man.”

Jo forced herself not to throw something at Mick’s head. Anything. A book, a chair, whatever she could reach. But she curled her fingers deeper into her palm and bit her lip for good measure. Assaulting a leading man would do nothing for her cause.

A real man, my arse!

A real arse, maybe.

She turned on her heel without saying a word and stalked out of the room.

Chapter 2

Instead of talking with Isabel about his impending doom—pardon, marriage—Richard was somehow coerced into playing lawn bowling with the other gentlemen.

The weather was ghastly. It was incredibly hot, and sweat trickled down Richard’s spine and throat without even lifting a brow, much less playing a game. Alas, there he was, frying under the afternoon sun while the ladies leisured around under their parasols or cowed behind the tree shades.

Such was the fate of a gentleman to sweat and display his manliness under any circumstances. And usually, Richard would not complain about such an activity, except that today everything irritated him. The sun was too bright; the grass was too green; the game was too boring, and everything was just wrong.

It had nothing to do with the actual weather, of course, or the actual game. Neither did it have anything to do with his bowling mates. Richard was on pins and needles because he had this weight on his shoulders that he needed to unload.

Richard looked around but didn’t see Isabel anywhere. Now, where had she gone?

Meanwhile, Vane, Isabel’s husband, threw the final ball and won the game for his team. Thank God. The game was over.

Richard walked unhurriedly to his brother-in-law and clapped him on the shoulder. “Not bad.”

“Thank you,” Vane said absently. “Gage, do you mind keeping a close eye on Millicent for a while? Isabel has disappeared somewhere, and I wish to find her.”

The undisciplined little monster? Richard didn’t know his new niece very well. He mostly knew her from the correspondence his footman James sent him. And those records were not flattering in the least.