Page 20 of The Pleasure in Persuasion

She carried the sack of goods to him and held it out for him to take, and as he slipped the bundle from her hands, their fingers tangled, and the shock of that touch, of his skin against hers, was enough to make her heart skip.

Heat swept through Lily’s chest and up to her cheeks, but it wasn’t only embarrassment she felt. It was lust, as well. She might be a virgin, but she knew what it was to want a man, and she wanted this one. She wanted his lips on hers, his body on hers, all naked limbs and gentle hands and sweet, sinful commands.

“Thank you,” he said, his bright blue eyes smiling as he gave the sack a gentle tug, and Lily realized she’d been gaping at him like a simpleton.

Mortified, she released her grip on the burlap and took a hasty step back, bumping into the table with an audible oof.

“Goodbye, Mr. Darrington,” she said stiffly, willing him to leave while she still possessed a shred of dignity. “I shall see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed. “But, please, call me Frederick.”

“Not Freddy?” For that was what Penelope called him, and apparently, where this man was concerned, her curiosity would not be denied.

“Only my siblings call me Freddy, and only because they refuse to stop, no matter how often I ask them to.”

He was still smiling, but she caught the thread of frustration in his voice.

She nodded. “Frederick, then.”

He watched her from the doorway, his gaze expectant, and after a moment, he raised one eyebrow.

“And…you may call me Lily,” she said, against her better judgment.

His eyes seemed to deepen several shades, as if showing his pleasure, and then he bowed his head. “Goodbye, Lily. Until tomorrow.”

She watched him turn and walk away, his strides long and confident, the burlap sack swinging at his side.

Leaning a hip against the table, she blew out a frustrated breath. Curses. She could not be trusted around handsome men. Her body began to misbehave, yearning for contact, compromising her judgment. Just look at the silly reaction she’d had to a simple brush of Frederick’s fingers on hers.

Foolish.

And the most foolish part of all was that she was excited to see him again, to feel that shiver of awareness once more, the one that reminded her she was more than making beds and washing tables. She was a woman with needs, desires. Wants.

It did not matter that she couldn’t act upon them. At least she knew they were there. Even if she also wished they weren’t.

“Goodness me, Penelope’s brother certainly is a charming man,” Gran said as she walked into the kitchen carrying a pail full of fresh milk.

Lily took it from her and lifted it onto the table with a grunt. Penelope’s brother was a bit too charming, in her opinion, but all she said was, “He paid you the exact same compliment.”

“That I’m a charming man?” her grandmother teased as she crossed to the wash basin and began rolling up her sleeves.

“That you’re charming,” Lily said with a smile.

“Well, he must have found you charming, as well. He certainly was in here for a long while.”

Lily’s cheeks warmed. “Yes, well. That would be Mr. Carstairs’ doing.”

“Mr. Carstairs?” Gran turned to face her, drying her hands on a clean length of linen. “What did he do?”

Lily told her of the man’s insistence and the impromptu and desperate measure she’d taken to get rid of him.

“Well, that was gallant of Mr. Darrington, wasn’t it? Offering to go along with this farce until Mr. Carstairs leaves,” Gran said, apparently impressed.

“I suppose it was, yes.”

“And all he asked for in exchange was to help out around the inn?”

Lily nodded.