The clerk turned, saying, “This gentleman is shopping for a lady friend who is a baker. Did you want to assist him?”
Althea never missed a step, but her face froze, her smile going stiff.
“You met her.” Evan noticed her reaction and hastened to explain. “Penelope. Lady Mansfield.”
One brow arched. “And does your friend know you’re buying gifts for his wife?”
“Ah, no. I figured I could sort that part out later.” Heat flooded his cheeks.
“Come on back. Let me see what I have.” She searched along the shampoo display. “One moment, please. I believe I have a new scent that might be just the thing. ’Tis in the storeroom, not even out on the shelves yet.”
She disappeared through the door.
His finger tapped against his thigh, pulse racing.
He had no plan.He had no plan. He never did anything without a plan. Yet today, he’d come here with the sole intention of seeing her. Wooing her. Wanting her. Oh, he’d contemplated his options. She was a widow, after all. A discreet liaison would not go amiss. And she seemed to like the privacy and lack of obligation.
With that sudden thought, he looked around. The other two clerks were busy helping other customers. None were looking in this direction. Turning the knob quietly, he stepped through the door to the back room.
Chapter Nine
At the sound of the door opening, Althea straightened from the box she was opening. Assuming it was one of her clerks, she swung round as she asked, “Is there a prob— Evan? You should not be back here. I shall bring it out if I can find it.”
“No one saw me, I assure you.”
She’d ducked into the back room because she needed a moment to recover from seeing him. A flush had swelled up her chest and cheeks at the thought of facing him after behaving like a wanton chit in the middle of a hallway. She could not afford such mistakes, even if his powerful shoulders and height had blocked them from view.
Since Greenborough Park, she had repeatedly tried to recreate the sensations he’d culled from her body while lying in her bed at night. One hand on her breast, one hand between her legs, exactly as Beth had told her for years and she’d dismissed. But when she’d stroked the nub Evan had found for her and even experienced the zing and zap of the climb Evan had brought about, she was disappointed.
She’d tried several more times, of course. Being an intelligent woman, she should be able to improve. But every time ’twas only a faint echo of the explosion at his hands. From then on, she hadn’t bothered. Then he had put his expertise to good use again four nights ago.
And here he was in the lips—er, flesh, again.
In the storeroom, dust motes from the box she’d opened floating in the light, she took in his copper jacket and buff waistcoat accenting his hair and eyes. Lud, he was handsome. All golden lion, lithe and dangerous, and on the prowl. He faked harmless well, but she knew his reputation.
And his skill.
She shushed her inner voice and tried to concentrate.
She licked her lips, not realizing she was staring until his mouth quirked in a wry grin.
“It seems you missed me, Althea.” His voice was a low rumble, like thunder in the distance promising a storm.
Yes. Please bring the lightning.
No. They were at her place of business. A public space.
She swallowed and dragged her gaze from those lips. Afraid of what she’d see in his eyes, she glanced down his body, noticing the breeches tight over a swell and hands fisted at his side belying his easy smile.
Her cousin had educated her enough, along with her marriage, that she’d understood the games she and Evan played at Greenborough Park and the ball earlier in the week had been very one-sided. She had spent considerable time wondering what his cock felt like. If it had some of the same skills as his lips and fingers.
Beth would say I owe him. But I have no idea how to give pleasure. I was never taught, even by him.
This isn’t about good manners. Widows may have more leeway, but you are a business woman. You do not.
The last thing she wanted was to gain a reputation as a loose woman. None of the Ton ladies would be caught dead patronizing her store again. At the moment, she had the mistresses’ and the wives’ business. Losing one half of those sales would be harmful even without plans to expand.
Althea stepped back and took a page from her cousin’s book. “My lord, fingers are fingers. I have no need of those attached to you.”
