“Could this be another of the things we don’t talk about?”
“Once a thing is said, it’s pretty hard to ignore.”
“This is why I have a rule of no young women in the house.” He crossed his arms and hung his head. “This is the first time I’ve disgraced myself. LaCroy, you’ve been gracious and kind. You’ve kept my secrets. I’ve done nothing but put you at risk.”
She put her hands to his shoulders, then slid them behind his neck. “I can see how you could leap to such a conclusion. You must be used to women being charmed by you, but it’s time for me to quit.”
The woman was being kind, but she was no quitter.
He clasped his palm about her elbow, stroking her arm through the thin fabric. “I feel . . . I feel quite foolish, and now I’ve ruined things for Lionel. I know how you care for him. You’ll do what you must but consider him. I need you here to care for Lionel and to make bread that the men rave about. I want you, need you . . . to stay.”
“I must quit, for there is something else I must do.”
She leaned in close, all those inches to his lips and drew him into a kiss.
CHAPTER 20
A KISSCANSETYOUFREE
Arrogant, endearing man. Still laughing, I put my mouth to his.
What I’d intended as quick and chaste, deepened.
His arms tangled with mine and drew me off-balance. I willingly went.
Then I was lost, as his skillful palms slid to my hips, his practiced hands searching my shape.
I let him.
I wanted to be discovered. The real me had been hidden too long.
Oh, the pressure of his lips changed, demanded more.
I teetered as he swooped me up onto his lap. The silent command to cling to him had me drawing closer.
This moved too fast, felt too good, changed too many of my notions of dukes and dreams and decorum and desks. With a sleight of hand, the duke had me flat on his, caught between his theater maps and his schedules.
“I always wanted a nanny.” He chuckled, then blessed my lips again.
Hadn’t I just made fun of the notion of falling for him?
Surely, I was on the losing side of this battle. Repington won with the way he touched me, the way he looked at me like found treasure. From hills to valleys and back, his fingers made a fiery path on my skin, a campaign straight to my heart.
I can’t surrender like this, on the drawing room’s desk, in the place I last saw my husband before he left Hamlin forever.
I pushed on Repington’s shoulder, but my pinkie betrayed me, finding warm skin bared by his open collar, his unbuttoned nightshirt. “More talking, Duke. We need more talking.”
He nudged my hand to his chest. “Non, ma chère.”
His thumb stroked my ball-of-fire cheeks, and he kissed me so gently, so sweetly, that I forgot my fake name, my real name, and would answer to anything.
“A moment, Duke?”
His laugh is rich and knowing.
With my palms to his jaw, I searched his eyes for something other than a reflection of me wanting him. Yet, that was all I saw or maybe all I allowed my soul to see. I can’t be swept away. I won’t lose everything. I pressed against his chest again; my fingers splayed along his scars. “Repington, this won’t do for us. I must get my documents.”
He let me slip away. “What? Wait. What?”
