5
When Josephineand Rowena arrived at the hotel the following evening, they found Devon waiting for them in the foyer. “Ladies,” he said, his eyes settling first on Rowena before sliding across to Josephine, where his gaze lingered. “You look lovelier than when I last saw you.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Duke,” Josephine teased.
Truth was, he looked incredible, dressed in all black evening attire, his hair neatly combed, save for a few unruly strands insisting on falling across his brow.
The edge of his mouth drew up in that roguish smile she’d come to adore. “I made a particular effort this evening.” With a wink, he made her stomach flip over, then asked, “Are you ready to try the cuisine here again?”
Rowena visibly shuddered. “Do we dare?”
Devon laughed more openly than Josephine had ever seen him do before. He seemed so relaxed tonight, so at ease, and so undeniably comfortable. It certainly added to his attractiveness and made her want to be nearer to him so she could bask in his positive energy.
“I think you will be pleased with the way things have changed around here since your last visit.” He guided them through to the dining room where other guests were already enjoying their meals.
Josephine stared as she took in the scene. “It’s almost full!” She followed him over to a vacant table and waited for him to pull out her chair while a waiter helped Rowena into her seat. “How on earth did you manage it?”
“All it took was a new chef, some proper ingredients, and an article placed in the Mayfair Chronicle yesterday morning.”
“I hardly know what to say. The speed with which you turned this around is so utterly impressive. ” Josephine shook her head, befuddled by his ability to make such a drastic improvement in so little time.
“Just wait until you try the food,” he said. “I do believe it may be the best you’ve ever had.”
“Now you’re boasting,” Rowena muttered, following the comment with a sip of the wine a waiter had poured. “Although if the food is as good as this, you may be right.”
“I doubt it will be better than what your cook is capable of producing,” Josephine said. “I find her meals extraordinarily tasty.”
And yet the smoked trout with seafood mousse, lemon and dill, followed by oxtail stew served on a bed of sautéed root vegetables, was so divine, Josephine feared she might overeat. For dessert they had ice cream served in the peel of an orange and garnished with chocolate shavings and mint leaves.
“You were right,” she confessed, when she set her spoon aside. “This is the best food I have ever had.”
“And it is all thanks to you,” Snowdon said, sipping his Muscat. “Had you not made me aware of the issues the hotel was having, it could very well have failed before I had a chance to save it.”
“Thank you, but I’m sure you would have realized what was wrong with the business eventually. Especially once you discovered dismissing people is not going to help, which would have become clear within a few weeks.”
Devon studied her a moment, then grinned. “Even when I’m trying to compliment you, you find a way to argue.”
Josephine frowned. “I wasn’t—”
“There you go again,” Rowena said.
Eyeing the siblings, Josephine flattened her mouth and sat back in her seat. “You’re right,” she acquiesced, “and I’m sorry. I am not very good at being flattered.”
“As long as you recognize the errors of your ways,” Devon said, a twinkle in his eyes, “there’s hope for you yet, Miss Potter.”
* * *
SeeingJosephine dressed in a deep blue evening gown his sister had no doubt loaned her had almost made Devon’s heart stop beating. She was simply stunning with her blonde hair piled high in an intricate coiffure, a few long strands curling against her cheeks. The vision of her encased in fine silk, her bodice so snug against her breasts he now assessed them to be more perfectly shaped than he’d ever imagined, had almost undone him. But he’d held himself in check by some miraculous force of will, hiding the overwhelming effect she had on him with easy banter and laughter.
He’d avoided moving too close to her, afraid her scent might prompt him to do something stupid and ruin the progress he hoped he was making. He knew his climb toward mercy was steep, but he was committed to making the effort if the prize to be won in the end was her heart.
So he chatted and smiled, allowing the occasional glance of appreciation to settle upon her more fully while banking the lust and the need that were bound to scare her away. And when he walked her and his sister out to their carriage later, he politely bid them good night before handing them up into the conveyance. The door closed and the driver whipped the reins, directing the horses toward the end of the street.
Look at me.
Turn around and look at me.
A second passed, then another. The carriage moved onward, almost turning the corner when she finally did what Devon wished. And it took every bit of restraint he possessed not to jump and shout with joy.
