“Excuse me?”
“Any acquaintances who frequent this establishment?”
“Is that relevant?”
“It may be,” she said. “We pride ourselves on client anonymity, but gentlemen talk.” Boasts and retelling of conquests, really, as if they didn’t finish early and leave their partner unsatisfied. Camille smiled. “We wish to avoid hard feelings should a question of property arise.”
“An issue of sharing, then?” He scoffed. “Women aren’t property. Any man believing he can dictate whom a woman decides to take to their bed is a selfish prig.” He cleared his throat and color crept up his neck. “Apologies, miss.”
Camille’s façade cracked in an astonished smile at the fierceness of his claim, and the boyish contrition of his apology. “That’s... quite all right, Your Grace.” God, were his eyes always so bright? She’d been certain she’d find a spoiled, titled man waiting, the roguish flirt from last night a fluke of an adventure-rich night, but Camille needed to reconsider her approach. Renard Louis was not what she’d expected. At the risk of shattering her solidly erected distaste for all things elite, she may have rushed to an improper conclusion about the man.
She looked up to find his gaze on her, his mouth twitching at the corners.
“You’re frowning, miss.” His voice had gone low. “Are all the questions sopersonal?”
The way he’d said ‘personal’... He was trying to seduce her.
Which was preposterous. Seduction washerjob. Well, her fake job.
Ignoring the thrill up her spine, she latched on to the charade. “We’ve yet to touch yourpersonals,” she teased, knowing the mask hid her burning cheeks.
His answering grin set her belly burning.
He leaned forward, his eyes dancing. “You have my attention.”
A giggle burst from her lips, a most outrageous and humiliating sound. She scrambled for control and read the nextquestion on the parchment, nearly dropping the quill at the words.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
Her jaw tightened. She was going to kill Victoria! Smile pasted on, she ground out, “Of course not, Your Grace.”
That’s right, he wasHis Grace. Teasing and flirtation aside, he was nothing but a potential client for her employer. This was a game, a farce. If he knew who she was, he’d never say such delicious things.
‘Delicious’? Heaven above, what was wrong with her?
“Do you need a moment?” he asked.
“No!” She cleared her throat. “How many partners have you had?”
What kind of question was that? As if a gentleman would state so blithely—
“Two hundred, perhaps,” he said.
She choked. “Two hundred?”
“More?” he shrugged. “I stopped counting after I hit triple digits.”
Forget cad. The man was a walking curse on all womankind. What a disgusting... Her thoughts trailed off at the mischievous glint in his eyes.
She huffed. “You’re teasing me.”
“You make it rather easy.”
She tapped the paper. “You were informed of the paperwork.”
“But not the content of the questions.”
“You said to ask you anything.”
