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But it was an illusion. An illusion of control. Even with her hands untied, he could overpower her instantly. Wrists bound and—no. She couldn’t. She couldn’t give something like that up just because she thought this man might be decent. Plenty of men seemed decent. Those were the worst offenders.

Theo shook her head. She pulled her arms back, and he let go instantly. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Those unnerving, steely eyes studied her. Finally, he spoke again, so softly she almost couldn’t make out the words. “I can’t allow you to touch me…freely.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Tried to wrap her head around his words. She couldn’t touch him freely. She clearly could touch him with her hands bound. His example was proof of that. Just not…unbound.

“But I could if I were to”—she gestured toward his groin—“service you in that manner?”

He nodded. “If you’re on your knees, yes.”

Theo frowned. This was…not what she was expecting. It was utterly perplexing. It almost seemed as though he was nervous about her overpowering him. Which was comical. He could probably overpower her with his arms bound. Behind his back.

“All right,” she said slowly.

And his expression nearly slayed her. It was barely there, but she saw it. The slight widening of his eyes, the smallest lift to his brow, the soft parting of his lips. Hope.

“Not today, though.”

He nodded, eyes trained on her.

“That is quite the level of trust you’re asking of me. No disrespect, Your Grace.”

“None taken.”

She slid off his lap, and her hands went to the placket of her trousers. She started undoing the buttons.

His dark brows pinched. “You said not today…”

She shimmied out of her trousers and stockings. Creaking leather echoed through her living room, and her stare fell to his white-knuckled grip on her sofa. His gaze was locked on her hips. She fought her grin. Men were truly too easy.

She began on the front ties of her half-stays. “You won’t be bedding me today, Your Grace. And I won’t be servicing you.” The garment sagged.

She pushed the shoulder straps off, and it fell to the ground with a definitive thump.

His chest lifted heavily, a light flush dotting his cheekbones. Oh, that was heady, wasn’t it?

“But I have ideas, Your Grace. If you’re amenable to hearing them.”

9

Rafe

It took a few beats for her words to register. Rafe was too busy dying a slow death at the sight of her.

Naked.

She was a goddess. Not because of her body, but because of how she held herself. She was Athena standing before him, flames of fire flickering in her brown eyes, mirroring the hearth behind her. A confident smirk curved the right side of her mouth—a woman who knew the effect she had on a man. That fact did something to Rafe, specifically to his lower anatomy.

Her shoulders were rolled back, small breasts on full display. His mouth watered. Nothing, nothing in this life could have prepared him for those legs. Why on earth did society deem tall women a fault? Rafe was a large man, but he’d bet the coin he had left that she could lock those ankles behind his back as he took her against a wall.

He let out an unsteady breath. This was perfect. She was perfect.

The perfect distraction.

Her words finally sank in.

But I have ideas, Your Grace. If you’re amenable to hearing them.