He chuckled again. “Yes, let me start with a chocolate.”
There was movement as Beatrice got one from the display case. He knew she would place it on one of their delicate plates and hand it to the customer.
However, the man asked, “Would you place it on my tongue?”
The rogue!Greer’s hands had already balled into fists before he realized it.
“No, my lord. That would be unsanitary.”
For the first time, she sounded annoyed.
“That’s a clever new word, isn’t it? I take your meaning, miss, and I can think of more unsanitary things we could do and enjoy far more than eating chocolate.”
He heard Beatrice stomp her foot.
“Doubtful,” came her insolent reply. “Do you wish to buy something, my lord, or not?”
Greer had to hand it to her. She kept her aplomb and even sounded bored by her lewd tormenter.
“What if I reach over this counter and fondle your bubbies? Merely to sample, of course. For free, as you promised.”
“I must ask you to leave,” came her tone, calm and firm.
“I’m a baron,” he said.
“And I’m a duke’s sister-in-law,” she shot back, quick as a whip.
Greer wanted to cheer.
“Liar,” said the man, not sounding at all pleased, perhaps from fear she was telling the truth. But then, undoubtedly thinking the odds of a nobleman’s relation working in a store were slim, his syrupy, languid tone was back. “For that prevarication, I will ask for more than a small sample. It looks like you have a back room.”
Greer took in a breath. Naturally, he would rescue Beatrice if the scoundrel tried to drag her into the back, but her reputation would be shredded by his presence already in hiding. And this seemed precisely the type of villain who would seek to use it against her, and perhaps come sniffing back at a more suitable moment to catch her alone.
“That is a workroom for employees,” she bit out. “It seems you are not interested in our confectionery, so I must ask you again to leave. I’m closing up the shop now.”
“Why don’t you close it and lock the door, and I’ll let you have a taste of me.”
That was it!He couldn’t believe any man — never mind a baron — would go into a shop in broad daylight and harass a shopgirl in such a fashion.
Quietly and as fast as possible, he removed his hat, slid out of his coat, and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. Then, remembering his ascot, he loosened it and tossed it aside. He wished he had something like a butcher’s apron, but he would have to try his best.
“I’ve finished taking inventory, sister,” Greer proclaimed loudly as he parted the curtain, attempting an English accent, “and I’ve swept the floor.”
The so-called baron went white as a sheet.
“Oh, good, another customer,” Greer said, as if only then noticing him. “You made it in the nick of time, good sir. We’re about to close up.”
He glanced at Beatrice who appeared red-cheeked, either with anger at the baron or embarrassment at Greer’s sudden appearance, but she took a deep breath and returned to her normal, creamy complexion in seconds. Even her lovely blue eyes danced with merriment.
“Thank you,brother. I believe this gentleman was about to make a large purchase indeed. Fortunately, you haven’t yet gone to Teavey’s for your pugilistic workout. The baron, here, might need you to carry his order.”
“I am looking forward to knocking someone into a cocked hat, for sure,” Greer said, flexing his hands in front of him. “But I can wait a minute and carry out his lordship’s purchases.”
“No ... no, that won’t be necessary,” the rogue said. “Give me a pound of toffee.”
But Beatrice was shaking her head.
“No,” the baron corrected. “A pound each of chocolates and toffee, and what did you say that was?”
