“But I am willing to bet he realizes his desk is the size of a small bed.”
Robert stilled, but his eyes brightened. “Why, you greedy little mouse.”
She stood next to him, reaching up to cup his face. He flinched and she hesitated. “Does it hurt?”
He shook his head, but pulled her hand away, stroking her palm with his thumb. “No. It’s just that—that no one—no one has—touched—”
“A good thing.”
His expression turned wounded. “A good thing?”
She nodded, stepping close enough that she had to tilt her head to look up at him. “Because I am a greedy—and jealous—little mouse. I do not wish anyone else to touch you the way I want to.”
He laughed and she moved away, the closeness of him almost too much to resist. “Your letters made it seem as if you had taken on the proportions and scars of Mrs. Shelley’s monster. Hardly the truth, sir. You remain the most handsome of rakes. I could definitely enjoy the company of a rogue like you.”
“You have read Mary Shelley’s—”
Eloise ran her fingers along the edge of the duke’s desk, knowing that if she looked at Robert, she would never finish what she had to say. “There is a great deal of time to read in the country. It’s why I have made plans to leave my aunt’s after the first of the year. Even before tonight, I had decided to come back to the city.”
He seemed genuinely surprised. “You did?”
“Yes. I plan to expand my dealings with Adrienne and her friends. Open my own office—”
“Marry me.”
Eloise froze, staring at a stack of papers on the desk.Did he really say...?She looked up at him. “What?”
He was at her side in two long strides. He grabbed both her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “I told you in the letters. My father and I have worked out the issues concerning Bill’s estate. The Duke of Makendon ended my suit with Lydia. Tonight I asked your father’s permission, for the seventh time. And tonight he finally gave it.” He shrugged one shoulder and his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Even thetonseems to have moved on, if not forgiven me.”
“‘From Satyr to Savior.’”
His eyebrows arched. “You saw that?”
“Timothy thought I would enjoy it.”
“Did you?”
Eloise could not stop herself from touching him. Sheneededto touch him. She ran her hand up his lapel and cupped his left cheek in her palm again. The scars felt raised but smooth under her fingers. “I do think of you as both.” She grinned. “Although the satyr is a great deal more fun to bed.”
Those beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes gleamed with mischievous glee. “If you marry me, you may bed me anytime you wish.”
Eloise danced away from him, turning her back. “But would you still let me work with my clients? Be a woman of business?”
Robert eased up behind her, his lips close to her ear. “What if I had planned for you to bemywoman of business?” He wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her backwards against him. “I want you to see the boys’ school. I want to know if you like how we have put your ideas in actions.” He spread the fingers on his right hand, running his palm downward over her stomach.
And his hand stopped, his intake of breath a sharp hiss in her ear.
Too late, Eloise realized what he had done. What he had felt. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “Eloise?” he whispered.
She relented. She relaxed in his grip and leaned back against him, her head resting on his chest, her voice quiet. “I looked for you all evening. I had planned to tell you as soon as I saw you.”
He still had not moved. “So you are—”
“Yes.”
“Why did you not—”
“It’s hardly a thing to put in a note sent by mail coach.”
