And Sterling had come to the horrifying realization that he was smitten.
With his secretary.
He wasn’t the only one looking.
Edwina had skin the color of cream, and whenever an errant thought lit through her head, her cheeks pinkened like the prettiest sunrise.
He’d caught her watching the way he retied his cravat and began to remove it during their afternoon teas, just to see if her gaze strayed to his throat.
It did.
He’d captured her eyes on his backside as he climbed the library ladder.
She lingered on his lips every bloody day as he lifted his cup to his mouth. Sterling had drunk more tea in the past three years than he ever had in his life.
As a man with a certain reputation, he knew how to read the room.
And Edwina Sheffield mentally undressed him at least three times a day.
There was just one little problem: One did not pursue those in one’s employ.
And while he’d had his share of roguish encounters over the years, he was—first and always—a gentleman.
“So.” Edwina patted her neck dry. “What’s the plan of attack then?”
He pulled his mind out of its reverie.
“Your plan. Your attack.” This was her first official case. He wanted her to have a chance to bloom into her new role—even if it was one that threatened to take her from his side.
She’s not going to leave you. His stomach fell in a sensation that reminded him very much of panic. You belong together. She knows that. This is merely… a new way of working together.
Partners. He had to hold onto that thought.
Edwina bit her lip. “You’re not going to like my plan.”
A different sort of knot formed in his stomach. “I presume I’m going to be sending my calling card and dusting off the Clarenvale signet ring?”
Her expression softened as she crossed the room. “You are a duke’s son, Sterling.” Gentle fingers hooked into his. “And I know you don’t like it. I know you haven’t seen your father in over a year. But this is our best chance to get inside the manor. Lord Willoughby is a mere earl. He wouldn’t dare not accept the Duke of Clarenvale’s son.”
Sterling’s gaze locked on their linked fingers. He couldn’t quite bring himself to tell her that he’d do anything if only she kept touching him. She’d no doubt use it against him in the future.
Might not be a bad thing….
“Fine.” He pushed away from the doorjamb and scowled. “Let me go get changed. I haven’t dusted off Lord Sterling Reed for a year or two. Sometimes it takes a few moments to bring him back out.”
Her smile was as radiant as the sun. “Thank you.”
Once this was done, she was going to owe him more than a bloody kiss.
Edwina couldn’t help being aware that Sterling slipped into his role as if wearing a new skin.
He’d slicked his golden hair back with pomade and there was no sign of the tweed. No. Instead he wore strict black, with a crisp white shirt and a cane in his gloved hand. The expression on his face was cool, bored even. He looked every inch the aristocrat, and she wasn’t sure what he did to make even the planes of his face look sharper, but the result sent a skitter of butterflies through her.
It was like slipping her arm through the elbow of a stranger.
A powerful, slightly feral stranger.
One that could turn on her at any moment, but it wasn’t his physicality that unnerved her, but his sudden, abrupt sensuality.
