“And I can play this guessing game all night until I hit upon what ails you.” He fingered the flower in her coat. “Why don’t you save us both the time and trouble?”
“It is of little account. I walked too far and my foot is sore.” Gripping the edge of her desk, she scooted her chair under the tabletop.
Sutton dragged her back around. “Let me see.” Picking up her left foot, he studied her face, and replaced it with her right.
Colleen tried to keep her expression even. It was blasted annoying how the man could see past her façade, always knowing what she felt and thought. He hadn’t believed her when she’d told him she was content living with her cousin and had installed her at this club. And she suspected he didn’t believe her when she feigned indifference to the activities that took place within these walls.
He unlaced her boot, and she didn’t argue. It was highly improper, of course, but her standards of propriety had become distorted these past couple months. A gentleman’s hand on her stockinged ankle was hardly enough to blink an eye over. When the worn leather of her boot slid over her blister, she winced, and then sighed in relief when cool air caressed the wound.
Trailing the tips of his fingers along her heel, the baron said, “That’s a beautiful example of Stephanotis floribunda.”
Colleen bent her knee and looked at her heel. “There’s a name for my blister?”
He laughed, the deep rumble crashing over her like waves on the shore. Fine lines softened the hard set of his eyes, and the wild beast suddenly looked human.
Her heart twisted like the mainspring in a clock, setting things in motion in her body that she didn’t want to acknowledge.
He nodded at her coat. “I was speaking of the flower.”
“You know the Latin names of flowers?” The baron didn’t even look like the type of man to know the common names.
“Botany is a hobby of mine.” He rested her ankle on his thigh, close to his hip. “One I hope to pursue more fully in the future.”
A slight tingle spread across the arch of her foot and down through her heel. His muscles made a hard bed beneath her ankle and one of the buttons on his falls just scraped her big toe. She was inches away from something most inappropriate.
She shifted her hips on the seat. “I can’t see a man like you studying plants. Ripping them out to plant a crop, perhaps.”
With one hand, he cupped the top of her foot. He stroked his fingers up to her toes and back down, pressing his thumb into a fleshy pad on her sole. His movements were slow, the pressure delicious. She could hardly sit still.
“I’m happy to surprise you.” He raised her foot, and Colleen pushed the fabric of her skirt tight between her legs. From his angle, he might look right up her petticoat. Lowering his head, he blew cool air across the blister. “That flower is fairly unusual here in England. Where did you get it?” He lowered her foot back to his thigh and picked up her other. Her blisters no longer hurt, but she missed the soft caress of his breath. Liked the way his lips pursed inside the circle of his beard. He untied the laces of her other boot.
“A florist in Wapping.” Would he furnish the same treatment on her left foot? It felt like thick syrup coursed her veins, making her limbs heavy, her body languid. She needed to keep talking, anything to prolong his ministrations. “I’m buying the flower shop with my premium. It’s a lovely store, and the owner is the sweetest old man. I’ve wanted to buy it for years.”
He paused before sliding off her boot. “Have you signed a contract?”
“Not yet, but an attorney is writing one up.” His hands engulfed her foot. They were large. Strong. She had no doubts they were capable of wringing a man’s neck, yet he cradled her foot as gently as though he were holding a babe. Something deep inside of her tugged. “Why?”
His chest heaved, and he blew out a long breath, not meeting her gaze. He rubbed circles into her ankles, each thick digit a patch of warmth that soothed her tired bones. She relaxed back into her chair.
“You can’t buy the shop. Not yet.” The baron raised his head, his piercing green eyes pinning her in place. “I’m not going to give you your premium. I need you to remain manager.”
Jerking her feet from his hands, she shot up. “You can’t! You promised me that money for three months’ service. It’s been three months.”
“I’m sorry, but circumstances have changed.”
Fire burned in her chest. How dare he? Wasn’t that just like a swell? Ignoring his commitments when it suited him. “You promised,” she said through gritted teeth. “I held up my end. I’ve managed this club competently and efficiently. I’ve earned that premium.”
“I agree.” Sutton lounged in his chair, stretching out his long legs. He might act high in the instep, but Colleen could see the tense set of his shoulders. The press of his full lips. “But the letter you received has changed our circumstances.”
“What letter?”
He slid a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and tossed it on the desk. “The one you showed me yesterday. The one that threatened you with harm if you didn’t provide Zed with information.”
Colleen frowned. “No one threatened me.” Unfolding the letter, she reread the contents. The end bit didn’t sound quite friendly but it hardly qualified as a threat.
Sutton sighed. “It’s right there in black and white.” He pointed at a couple lines.
“There is nothing there.” This couldn’t be happening. Not another dream taken away. Her throat squeezed, and she forced the tears back where they came from. “You’re seeing something that doesn’t exist. And even if it is a threat, that is only an added reason for me to leave The Black Rose.”
