The man nodded, shutting the door. Rose lifted a brow.
“I have an apartment there for nights I want to stay. I can still drop you off at the duchess’s townhouse.
She perused him and shook her head. “No, to the warehouse we go.”
Chapter Eighteen
Rose followed Augustusinto the warehouse. They’d been relatively quiet during the ride, and no more kissing had occurred. She wasn’t sure if she was the cause of the silence or if he was. Nerves fizzled in her stomach. The warehouse wasn’t dark but well-lit. Rose suspected more than one guard was lurking about.
Her eyes widened as they passed shelves filled with exotic goods she suspected were from South America. Augustus’s business certainly stretched across the world. She paused and looked at the dolls and wooden toys. Augustus looked back at her and stopped, waiting for her to catch up.
When she didn’t move, he joined her. Pointing at the doll, she asked, “Where are those from?”
He smiled. “Brazil. I have a buyer from the region who now lives here.”
She picked up the wooden toy. “How does this work?”
A smile filled his face. “You are always inquisitive.”
She flushed. “I can’t help it.”
Taking the toy from her, he rubbed it between his palms, making it spin. The wooden balls dangling from ropes banged against each side, creating a distinct sound. The faster he rubbed his hands, the quicker the beat.
“It is like a smaller version of a drum,” he explained.
“Fascinating.”
He chuckled. “Keep it.”
Rose looked up and down the aisle. “I could spend days in your warehouse and never get tired of all your goods.”
“That is quite the compliment.”
She smiled at him, and he stepped closer, his eyes clouding with desire. A guard rounded the corner, causing them both to step away. The man flushed. “Apologies, Your Grace.”
Rose giggled. “He thinks I’m your mistress.”
He grabbed her chin and ran a thumb across her mouth. “I’m not sure you would allow yourself to be anyone’s mistress or be called that.”
Grinning impishly at him, she said, “If he would call himself my mister, I might consider it.”
A bark of laughter escaped him, and he shook his head. Holding out his hand, he said, “Come with me.”
Rose took it, enjoying the warmth that shot through her body at the touch of their skin. He pushed open a door and pulled her through the entryway. She stumbled to a stop, gaping in awe at everything around her. It was an apartment, a luxurious one, but what was most shocking was the variety of décor found in the space. They were clearly standing in a sitting area that featured goods from South America, Asia, and likely other regions. Everything was done up in bold, vibrant colors.
She slowly turned, taking it all in. It seemed so unlike Augustus—no, that wasn’t right—it seemed so unlike the Duke of Sinclair. Rose realized this place was his escape from the man his title made him be. Her eyes met his, and she said, “This is magnificent.”
He smiled. “You looked surprised.”
“It wasn’t what I expected,” she said. “But I love it, and it seems like the perfect escape for you.”
She walked towards a table with various weapons on display, including a wooden bow and arrow set and a dart blower. She smiled, amused, suspecting these weapons were some ofAugustus’s favorite items. Glancing back at him, she said, “You should go to South America.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps someday.”
“Why wait?”
“You know why.”
