Page 79 of A Necessary Wife

Milo let out a long, tortured breath, pressing his palms against the table where she had just been resting. He could still feel the heat of her body there, and he caressed the wood, longing to call her back. He could still feel her kisses on his lips. The taste of her on his tongue.

And he had no earthly idea how he was supposed to pull back from the edge of insanity when he was already falling deeper under her spell. He could not say for certain if it was even only desire making the blood pound in his ears when she was around.

She made him forget how they were meant to be.

“Ah, there you are, Chatham,” Lady Ashcroft said as she slipped into the room. “You risk hurting my feelings when you call off our ride. I’m here to give you a second chance.”

He straightened, annoyed with the woman seeking him out again. “I thought I made it clear I was unavailable now.”

She shut the door behind her, the click of the lock a troubling sound. Her next words confirmed it. “Can I help it if I want you all to myself.”

Milo was not attracted to Phillipa. He knew her intentions were self-serving. “The children will return in a moment.”

Her smile grew sly. “Do you think so?”

He studied her expression and scowled. “What have you done?”

“Let’s just say I sent them on a little treasure hunt that will be vastly entertaining. Your wife will chase after them in a desperate bid to win their favor. We have ample time to talk.”

He stared at her. “What exactly have you been saying to my daughter?”

“Your poor wife will never win her heart, you know.”

Milo ground his teeth.

Phillipa walked closer, hips swaying as she approached. “You made a mistake. I can help you correct it.”

“What mistake would that be?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” she whispered, finger extended to touch his chest. “You married the wrong woman.”

“Do you think so?”

Phillipa’s smirk returned. “You can barely stand to be in the same room. You’re always so tense. You never touch her. You never say her given name. There is no spark between you.”

Phillipa must be blind. The spark was so bright, it terrified him.

He was tense because he wanted so much more than he had a right to expect.

Pleasing Amelia was all he could think about sometimes.

Phillipa leaned back against the door, blocking his way out. “You married an embarrassment. I know how poorly your father thinks of your second wife. He likes me better. Divorce, and he’ll forgive any scandal when we wed. You must have known I would do anything for you. But I understood your fear and was prepared to wait.”

Milo frowned. “What fear?”

“Of marrying your friend’s widow. We have both grieved enough for Thomas.”

He shook his head. “I was your husband’s best friend. You and I had nothing in common beyond that.”

“You were meant for me,” she insisted. “Your father knew that. Why else invite me here so often?”

“That was a mistake on his part. A presumption.”

“Presumption? After all the time I devoted to your weeping daughter, do you really expect her to accept another woman becoming your duchess.”

He took a step back, finally hearing her confirm her end game. She’d befriended Lucy to gain a title. She’d played his daughter false and saw nothing wrong with that. “So, you believe you’ll make me a better duchess?”

“Yes, of course I will!” Phillipa’s fingers flicked imaginary lint from his sleeve in a way he found insulting. “And I won’t deny you your indulgences with other women like she would.”