“Ah, here we are, twenty-five.” Alexandra paused to survey the mammoth town house that stood at the far end of a short, curving drive. What seemed like half a hundred windows peered toward the street and overlooked the small, simple garden on the east side. The house was bordered by a carriage run to the west, and not much distinguished it from the other splendid houses with which it shared the way. So far, so good.
Taking a deep breath, she walked up the carriage drive around to the back of the house and climbed the three steps to the rear entry. Before she could even rap on the door, it swung open.
“Good afternoon.” A tall, thin man dressed in impeccable gold and black livery dating from the height of George III’s reign stood just inside the kitchen entry and gazed at her. The dusting of silver at his temples served as an exclamation point to his dignity. “I presume you are here in answer to the advertisement?”
“Yes, I—”
“This way, miss.”
Without even a glance at Shakespeare, the butler turned on his heel. Alexandra followed him through the huge kitchen, down two long intersecting hallways, and into a large, spacious study tucked beneath a winding staircase of carved mahogany. She took in the scattered, tasteful paintings by artists as celebrated as Lawrence and Gainsborough, the ornate Far Eastern carvings in ivory and flawless ebony wood, and the gold-inlaid cornice running along the top of the walls. Tasteful, elegant, interesting, and very well appointed, the house seemed curiously unfeminine for the residence of a young lady and her mother.
“Wait here, miss.”
Alexandra nodded, absorbed in her observations. Shakespeare found an interesting scent beside the massive mahogany desk, while she approached the fireplace to warm her hands. A carved elephant stood guard on the mantel, and tentatively she touched its smooth, ebony leg.
Footsteps padded down the stairs that curved above her head. With a start she abandoned the hearth and seated herself in the chair placed opposite the desk. A moment later, the door opened. Alexandra affixed her best look of professional yet sincere interest on her face, ready to begin her well-rehearsed speech about her experience and mostly impeccable references, and looked up. And then forgot everything she’d been about to say.
He stood in the doorway, gazing at her. At first all she took in were his eyes—a fine light gray beneath dark, sardonic brows. Gradually the rest of him sank into her senses. Tall, with dark hair curling at his collar and an athlete’s lean build, he had a French aristocrat’s high cheekbones and arrogant, shamelessly sensual mouth. He remained where he was, unmoving, for several long seconds.
“You’re here for the governess position?” he asked in a deep, cultured drawl.
“I…” Alexandra nodded, shivering a little as the sound of his voice resonated down her spine in electrifying spirals. “I am.”
“You’re hired.”
Chapter 2
She blinked blue-green eyes as deep as the sea. “Hired?”
Lucien closed the door, an unfamiliar agitation tugging at his nerves.Good God, she was delicious. “Yes, hired. When can you begin?”
“But…you haven’t seen my references, and you don’t know my qualifications—or even my name.”
Given her conservative attire and very upright posture, telling her just how arousing he found her obvious qualifications might run her off. A movement caught his attention, and he glanced down to see a small white terrier snuffling under his desk. Lucien lifted an eyebrow. “Yours?”
She tugged on the leash, and the animal returned to her side and sat. “Yes. He’s quite well behaved, I assure you.”
Grateful for any distraction that would give him a moment to recover his usual calm veneer, Lucien stepped around the small white beast and took a seat at the mahogany desk. “You don’t need to assure me of anything. You already have the job, Miss…What is your name?”
“Gallant. Alexandra Beatrice Gallant.”
“A very upright name, Miss Gallant.”
Miss Gallant blushed, the color rising prettily in her cream-colored cheeks. “Thank you, sir.” Abruptly she looked down at her large reticule and pulled out a thin stack of papers. “My references,” she said, holding them out to him.
He leaned forward and took them, his fingers brushing against the soft white kidskin of her glove. “If you insist.” Lucien set them down without looking at them, preferring to keep his gaze on the tall, elegant goddess sitting before him.
She gestured at the papers. “I do insist. Don’t you wish to examine them before you offer me a position?”
He could think of several positions he’d like to offer her. “I’d rather examine you.”
Her blush deepened. “Beg…beg pardon?”
She was genuinely naive, he decided. And she had absolutely no idea who he was, thank God. “Everyone’s references are perfect, or they wouldn’t offer them. Ergo, they are useless. I prefer to go to the source.” He cupped his chin in his hand and smiled, hoping he didn’t look as predatory as he felt. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Gallant.”
She smoothed her skirt, the motion practical and at the same time very feminine. “Of course. I have served in various governess and companion positions over the past five years, sir. I am considered more than competent.” She lifted her chin, obviously launching into a rehearsed speech. “In fact, young ladies are a special favorite of mine. I—”
“Hm. I prefer mine to have a little more maturity.”
