exaggerated smile. “I do not need it. I merely figured you would not wish to lose any blood today.”
He opened his mouth but another voice interrupted.
“Jo, do not bleed Lord Wilkes. Your mother would not like it on her rug.” Najja’s calm voice jerked them apart.
Her face flushed, she swallowed hard before lifting her gaze to find not just Najja there but also her son, Colin, and Pug. Colin’s green eyes burned with murderous intent. Najja’s were bland but Jo knew nothing escaped her hawk like gaze. Pug’s seemed to mirror Colin’s.
“Tryst,” Colin rumbled.
He released her. Smoothing her hands down the yellow fabric of her day dress, she took a much needed fortifying breath. “What are you doing back? I thought you were staying in London.”
It amazed Jo that she came to her family’s country seat expecting to be alone with her parents away on a trip, to not only have Trystan arrive but the Faulkner brood as well.
“What is going on?” Najja said, placing her son on the floor where he immediately ran to Jo.
She scooped him up and peppered his face with kisses. Alexander Faulkner was a gorgeous mix of his parents. He had vivid green eyes like his daddy and skin a tad lighter than his mom. Holding him allowed her to ignore her desire for once.
“Jo.” Najja’s voice ran with reprimand.
With reluctance, she handed Alex off to Pug who carried him out of the room. “I was in another incident so I came home.”
“She refuses to draw the symbol on the lone page taken from her sketch book,” Trystan snapped, lifting and tossing the pad back down again.
“Maybe if you would ask instead of demand I would,” Jo retorted.
“You need to tell me,” he said, rounding on her, his eyes shooting sparks.
She refused to be intimidated. Crossing her arms, she matched him glower for glower. His blue eyes narrowed further. Okay, perhaps I am a bit intimidated.
“You need some manners.”
He leaned close. “You already know what I think you need.” His words were low and intimate.
Another wave of longing crashed over her. She almost dared him, recalling exactly what he had told her.
“Perhaps more productive matters should be pursued.”
Najja was right. Jo held out her hands and backed away. “I will tell him.” She dragged her tongue against her lower lip, ignoring the thrill of pleasure his sharp intake of air gave her. “The moment he tells me why it is any of his business.”
“Seems reasonable.” Najja‘s agreement came as no surprise to her.
“I do not want to worry her if not necessary to.”
Jo scoffed, instantly forgetting to not square off with Trystan. “So you come barging into my house, into this room, and question if I can even redraw the image? Demanding I do? All because you do not want to worry me unnecessarily?”
“I had to know. And I am trying to protect you,” he thundered.
“From what?” she hollered back, nearly stomping her foot in frustration.
He threw up his hands and glanced past her.
“Jo?” Colin asked seconds later.
She flushed again, embarrassed she had forgotten others were there. Loosely clasping her hands before her, she met Colin’s waiting green gaze. “Yes?”
“Can you recreate the image?” Of course she could and nodded. “Please.”
She sighed and glanced to Najja who encouraged her to comply with nothing more than a look. Silent, she swiped the pad in one hand and took the pencil from her other book before sitting on the cushion.
Working quickly and not going into intricate detail, she did as they had requested. The page in question had been used for four drawings. She did them on different sheets and as the last stroke fell, she ripped them out. Slammed them against Trystan’s chest. Then with her head held high, she stormed from the room.
“Everything okay, Miss Jo?”
She gave a genuine smile
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