His attention snapped to her at that, and his eyes seemed to sparkle with wonder. A slow smile stretched his lips and transformed his austere face to breathtakingly handsome.
“Like the muse. What an appropriate name! I shall call you Thalia from now on.”
She stared. As much dazzled by his smile as humiliated by his mockery.
“There’s no need to mock me, my lord.”
His smile disappeared at once. Replaced by a puzzled frown. “I wasn’t mocking you. I truly think your name suits you. With your permission, I would like to use it. And it would honor me if you use mine.”
He seemed so sincere. His eyes, earnest and direct, softened her resistance. A thought floated unbidden to the forefront of Thalia’s mind:Now here was a man worth losing one’s virtue to.Ridiculous, of course. Not because it wasn’t true, but because someone like him would never be interested in a woman like her. But his flattery felt...nice. Like melted butter on a warm scone.
“I don’t know if I can use your name,” she confessed. It seemed wildly intimate.
“Sure you can.”
“It’s inappropriate.”
“There’s no one here to hear or judge. Practice saying it. Liam.”
“Liam,” she repeated obediently, her voice a little breathless from the mad race her heart had engaged in. But it appeared to please him. His attention fixated on her mouth, his eyes darkening.
“I like the way you say my name, Thalia.” His tongue seemed to caress the syllables of her name.
“I haven’t given you leave to use my name,” she protested, but she couldn’t prevent the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Did he think his name sounded good when she said it? Well, her name in his rich baritone was seduction incarnate.
“No? Hmm, I’ll just have to work harder on gaining your trust.” With a smile, he turned his attention again to his sculpture, his fingers sliding with almost indecent sensuality through the pliant clay.
She cleared her throat. “Why would you want to? I thought your only purpose was to extricate your brother from my sister’s clutches and then wash your hands of my family.”
“I thought you wanted the same.”
“I do. But what leads you to believe that my sister is not a suitable bride for your brother? For your information, she is a young lady of excellent character and impeccable breeding.”
“So is my brother,” he replied smoothly.
“Your brother is a rake.”
He tsked. “Don’t be so judgmental, Thalia. My brother is an unattached young man. It’s expected that he would...entertain himself. But he has never compromised an innocent.”
“Until my sister.”
“Is your sister innocent?”
Oh, that galled. Especially coming from him. How dare he impugn her sister’s honor! Her mouth fired before her brain could weigh the consequences.
“Are you, Lord Ashford?”
She immediately regretted her words. His face shuttered, extinguishing the friendly banter and sense of camaraderie between them.
“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she stammered.
His hands paused in its caressing of the clay. “It’s quite all right. At least you asked, instead of condemning without question.”
“Still. It was unforgivably rude of me.”
He took a sip of his whisky, studying her. “Do you wish to know the answer?”
She very much did, but the intensity of his gaze disconcerted her. “If you want to tell me.”
