Oxford Whispers by Marion Croslydon Read Free Book Online

off.”
    Rupert hit the accelerator on his sleek Jordan or whatever the goddamned car was called. They didn’t talk and while they drove away from Oxford Madison relaxed, lulled by the steady humming of the car’s engine.
    She peered through the window and struggled to hide her enthusiasm. Back home, she had dreamed of the English countryside, its rolling hills and its storybook villages. Nothing compared with the real deal, though.
    While Rupert drove his toy along sinewy country roads, she stared at the honey-colored limestone cottages, their thatched roofs and oak doors. Every turn revealed a medieval church here or an old manor house there.
    After half an hour sitting in the plush car, Rupert hadn’t yet said a word. She was increasingly aware of the man who sat alongside her. A jerk he might be, but a damn hot one. His proximity caused her heart to pump her body’s fluids faster in excitement.
    Madison shuffled in her seat, and the leather squeaked. She forced herself to remain still and pretended to look at the view. Her palms clasped her jean-clad thighs so she wouldn’t do anything to embarrass herself, like running her fingers through his hair.
    He finally broke the silence. “It’s your first time in England.”
    Thank God … Chitchat was better than nothing. “First time out of the U.S.”
    “I went to Mardi Gras in New Orleans a few years back. One of my father’s friends has an estate near New Iberia, so we stayed for a few days.”
    Madison didn’t care about his rich American pals. No doubt a Southern belle with the right pedigree had entertained him there. But nothing smart and witty came to her mind. In fact, the only thing she paid attention to was the smell of his fabric conditioner. With all his good looks, it was the fresh scent of Rupert’s clothes that turned her on. A lavender scent, now she was sure of it.
    Her gaze shifted towards his left hand on the gearstick and the firm grip of his fingers on it. Even the way he handled it, accelerating, decelerating, was a turn-on. She forced herself to swallow, but her mouth went bone-dry again.
    Pathetic.
    The car slowed down, and Rupert turned into a private road. At the end of the graveled path, Magway appeared.
    With a silent wooh , her mouth opened wide. Today was her first time in a real-life manor house.
    As soon as Rupert stopped the car in the central courtyard, Madison leapt out of her seat. She gazed at the pitched roof, cross-gables and chimney pots. Her hands clenched in front of her as if to refrain from touching anything or anyone.
    What an amazing place to do some research. Jackson had given her the best job ever. The main fortified body dated back to the medieval era, but the two wings, with their narrow, jutting bay windows, claimed Tudor influence.
    Rupert had stayed behind her and was leaning against his car, cross-legged, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. The extravagant car didn’t look out of place anymore, but was the perfect accessory to his family nest and smoking virility.
    The guy probably bought a new boat each time his other one got wet.
    “I hope you’re suitably impressed. You’ll be nice to me now that you’ve seen my house?”
    It was obvious he thought people liked him because he was loaded. His anorexic excuse of a girlfriend does, for sure … All things considered, for a guy that rich, he was relatively down to earth. Emphasis on relatively .
    “Rupert Vance, even if you owned Buckingham Palace, that would not make me like you more, or dislike you less.” Once the words were out of her mouth she blushed, because she also felt something else toward him that her body couldn’t hide.
    More erotic dreams were sure to follow, though she hoped not.
    His face had frozen, as if she had actually hurt his feelings. Then he burst into laughter, moved toward the imposing entrance door and opened it.
    With that, Madison learned something classic: rich people didn’t need keys.
    Inside, a double red-carpeted