Had she been his mistress he would have forgotten all about the growl of hunger in his stomach and fed the raging appetite in his loins. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and take her straight to his bedchamber.
“Miss Quick,” he said with a nod.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she answered with an abbreviated curtsy. “I hope the suite of rooms Mrs. Huddleston showed you are acceptable.”
“Yes. Warm and comfortable.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she answered and then walked over to stand by a chair.
Only then did Hawk notice the table. It was long. Very long and covered in a gleaming white cloth. An impressive six-pronged silver candlestand had been placed in the middle. Two single candlesticks flanked each side of the stand, adding their burning flames to the golden glow cast by the crackling fire and lighted wall sconces. There were ten chairs lining each side of the table. An attractive setting of china, silver, and crystal had been placed at each end.
If they were going to see each other, they would have to look around all the candles. And if they were to converse during dinner, apparently Miss Quick expected them to shout.
Hawk strode over to her and, pulling out the chair, said, “Allow me to assist you.”
“Thank you,” she answered, sounding quite pleased with herself as she took her seat.
The enticing scent of fresh-washed hair stirred the air beside him as she moved. It teased his senses. Watching her as she made herself comfortable, he had a great desire to reach down and kiss the back of her neck and let his lips skim along the crest of her bare shoulders. He wanted to snuggle his nose against the warm skin behind her ear and breathe in slowly. And though he knew it was futile thinking, he wanted to feel her tremble with passion in his arms.
Ah, he thought,she is simply too tempting for words.
He bent down close to the top of her head, but alas, not to indulge in his desired fantasy to kiss her but only to whisper, “You are lovely tonight, Miss Quick.”
She remained staring straight ahead but murmured another, softer “Thank you.”
Hawk pushed his thoughts away from his desires forMiss Quick once again and headed to the opposite end of the table, counting the chairs between them as he passed. Eleven. He’d missed one when he’d glanced at them a few moments ago. There might as well be a gulf of fire between the two of them.
At the table where he was to sit, he grabbed the back of his chair to pull it out but stopped. He looked at Miss Quick sitting so lovely, so serene, and so far away. It was impossible to ignore the barriers she’d erected between them.
To be or not to be a gentleman was the question she’d silently put before him. And it really wasn’t hard to answer. She obviously didn’t know he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. What else could so many candles and silver be?
Hawk didn’t mind accommodating a clever young lady, but, he could only go so far in doing so. After all, he was a man. The opportunity to dine alone with a beautiful, innocent lady of quality might never come his way again.
And that was all it took for the man inside him to win out over the gentleman. Why change his wicked ways tonight?
He let go of the chair, reached down and scooped up the silver on both sides of the plate in one hand. With the other he gathered the napkin and wineglass and marched to the chair that was on Miss Quick’s right. She sat in stunned silence as he laid everything on the table in front of him, not as neatly as it had been, but it would do. He then went back and picked up the decanter of wine and the plate and carried them back to where he was preparing a place for himself.
After putting the items on the table, he noticed she had water in her goblet. “Do you drink wine, Miss Quick?”
“Sometimes. Usually only when Paxton is here.”
“Ah. I’ve heard it’s never a good idea to drink alone. Will you join me in a glass of wine tonight?”
“If you would like.”
He picked up her water, carried it over to the fireplace, and poured it in the edge of the fire. It sizzled and hissed. He then placed the glass back in front of her and poured a serving of wine into it and then into his own glass before taking his seat.
“That’s better,” he said with a satisfied smile, loving the surprised expression on her face. “You did say you don’t stand on ceremony when your brother isn’t home, didn’t you?”
Though he felt sure she hoped to hide it, he saw a measure of admiration in her eyes for his brashness. And that pleased him, too.
“Yes. And by all means, Your Grace, sit wherever you like.”
Her voice was calm, her countenance relaxed. She was letting him know he might have won the skirmish, but she wasn’t conceding the battle. Good. He was looking forward to more clashes between them before the evening was over.
He nodded once. “May I offer a toast?”
“Of course.” She picked up her wine.
