‘What are you doing here?’ he growled.
‘I-I live here,’ she replied with a heavy scowl. ‘What are you doing in my house?’
‘This is your house?’ Phillip raked her with a curious look, mostly because it helped to avoid having to acknowledge the surge of awareness that had slammed into him when she had walked through the door. What Phillip had also noticed was that the stunning young woman before him was worried about something, or someone.
Someone she had been running from.
‘Y-yes,’ Carlotta replied.
Phillip lifted a brow. ‘You dare tell me that you, who can be no more than twenty years of age, is able to afford a mansion like this? Who else lives here?’
‘My uncle,’ Carlotta lied.
Phillip knew from the awkward way her gaze slid to his shirt that she was lying. ‘You can’t lie for your life,’ he warned.
Carlotta’s gaze flew back to his. ‘I am not lying.’
‘Where is he then?’
‘He isn’t here.’
‘So, your uncle went away and left you alone. Where is your chaperon?’
‘I don’t need one. Who are you?’
‘You don’t have a chaperon? Companion? Nurse? Sister? Mother? Brother? Father?’
‘No,’ Carlotta whispered.
‘You are an orphan living with your uncle.’
‘Yes,’ Carlotta replied.
‘You really expect me to believe that your uncle left you to fend for yourself in a mansion he closed up before he left? What, did he forget you?’ Phillip squinted at her.
Carlotta felt her cheeks heat. He was right. She couldn’t lie to save her life.
‘Why should I answer your questions? You are the one who is trespassing. This is private property. You are the intruder. I warn you now that I have no valuables for you to steal. If you don’t get out of here I am going to report you to the magistrate,’ she growled, doing her best to sound like her father.
Phillip released her and stepped back but only to fold his arms and stare boldly at her. He swept her with an appreciative look and watched her shift uncomfortably. It was clear that she wasn’t used to being the object of a lascivious man’s interest.
Well, you are not married, or here with your lover then.
Which was a relief, until Phillip warned himself that it was none of his business whether she was married or not. She was pretty, if a man liked someone who had light blonde hair and had somewhat cat-like green eyes.
She also has more secrets than me.
‘Where have you been? You had a key.’
‘I told you, I live here,’ she argued. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am nobody you should concern yourself with.’
‘But your presence in my home does concern me,’ Carlotta argued.
Phillip moved over to the window and slid a shutter open only for Carlotta to hurry over and slam it closed again.
Phillip rounded on her. ‘You don’t live in this house. If you do you are no more the owner of it than I am. I think you should explain why you have covered all the furniture over with dust sheets. Don’t think about telling me that your uncle did it before he went away. That story no damned fool would believe.’