Straightening, she brought wide eyes to his.“I beg your pardon?”
“It seems to annoy you.I’ve seen you tug at it several times now.”
Her face flamed.
“Take it off.I don’t know its purpose, but you will not get dust in your hair, or hair in food, or whatever else.You don’t need it for this work, so there is no reason to be uncomfortable.”
“If Your Grace commands…” she said with a grin, her tone teasing.
He blew out a breath.They were back to their easy camaraderie, their partnership.His transgression last night in demanding a kiss was forgiven, if not forgotten.
She raised her hands to her cap, tugging two pins out.
He sucked in a new gulp of air and held it.Was it the color of her brows, a cinnamon?Lighter?Darker?
She yanked off the cap, and sure enough, cinnamon-colored hair pulled back into a serviceable bun framed her face.One curling lock fell forward by her ear at that moment.
He wanted to tug on it, put it in his mouth and taste it, wrap it around his finger.Seeing his hand start to reach across the desk, he stopped the unconscious motion.
She hadn’t noticed his fascination as she smoothed her hair back from her face, grimacing when her hand encountered the wayward curl.Reaching for a discarded pin, she tucked the hank into the knot at the back of her head and heaved a sigh of relief.
How had she dealt with similar head apparel all these years?Perhaps she had not worn a cap in her last post, and perhaps she had only been working for a year or two.
She’d leaned forward while he pondered her aversion to millinery, tilting her head to look at the next document.He was brought back to the issues at hand when she commented, “Another duty law.You’d think they’d learn.”
“What do you think they should learn?”he asked.
“If they keep taxing imports and territories under their control, they’ll end up driving them away as they did the American colonies.”
“What would you suggest?”
“I don’t know.Girls are taught more about hostessing than about history, sadly.But I’d guess there are some MPs who have suggestions.’Tis a reason to spend some time in London.”
He shuddered.“I hate that place so much.”
“I wonder if once you were more familiar with it and met some like-minded people, it mightn’t be so terrible?”
“Perhaps, but how much would I have to endure to get to that point?”
“Your experience might also be different as a duke than a pub manager.”
“I wasn’t a pub manager.I was helping my stepbrother set up a charitable organization.Yet the men we were trying to help treated me like a servant.”Frustration fizzed through him at the memory.“Frankly, being treated differently due to a title I did not earn would aggravate me more.”
He sighed.So many pros and cons for each decision, and hundreds of peoples’ futures affected by each one.He hadn’t wanted this responsibility.Indeed, it frightened him.It was time for a break.
Leaning back in his chair, he rested his elbows on the armrests and put his palms together, worrying his lips between his forefingers as he contemplated this.When he looked up, Evie was staring at his mouth, unblinking.
Dropping his hands, he watched as her gaze flew to meet his.She blushed and lowered her chin to peruse the bill.
Interesting.If only he hadn’t promised her he wouldn’t kiss her again.Perhaps he could tempt her into initiating a kiss, maybe not now, but over time.Then he’d know he wasn’t taking advantage of their positions.
Bringing his hands back up near his mouth, he interlaced his fingers, folding all but the forefingers.He lowered his gaze only as far as he could keep her in his peripheral vision and toyed with his lip.Brushing it, tugging on it.
She was riveted.Her tongue swept across her lips, followed by her teeth sinking into one side of her lower lip.
His cock thickened and lengthened.There would be no relief this afternoon, but he could build on this to coax a kiss from her.His tongue came out to play, moistening his lips.
She squirmed in her chair.
