Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] by Never A Lady

Author:Never A Lady
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Before he could reply, another voice, deeply masculine and highly amused, came from beyond the door. “Of course he’s at home, Ellis.” Then louder, “Greetings, brother dear. I come bearing gifts and will await you in your study. Don’t be too long, or I’ll eat all the marzipan without you.”

Lord Sutton muttered something that sounded suspiciously like bloody damn pest. The icy glare he leveled upon the door was surely meant to freeze the oak panels. Indeed, he looked so wholly and thunderously displeased she had to press her lips together to hide her sudden amusement. Clearly she wasn’t successful, for his eyes narrowed upon her.

“Are you laughing?”

“Me? Certainly not,” she said, with a haughty sniff.

“Because if you were laughing…”

The heated look in his eyes scorched her. “What would you do?” The breathless question popped out before she could stop it, appalling her.

“An interesting question. One upon which I shall have to ponder because you make me want to do so many things.” He reached out and took her hand. When his warm fingers wrapped around hers, she recalled with a start that she wasn’t wearing her gloves. She looked down and saw the lacy fingertips peeking out from under the desk.

Embarrassment suffused her, but before she could snatch her hand away, he’d lifted it and pressed his lips against her palm. One of her callused, work-worn palms that she was always careful to hide from the wealthy members of Society.

He lowered her hand, then slowly stroked his thumb over the spot he’d just kissed. Another wave of embarrassment rolled over her as he looked at her hand, knowing he’d see the nicks, old scars, and healed-over burns from years of hard work. She tried to gently extricate her hand, but he wouldn’t let her.

“You work hard,” he said, brushing his finger over a callus.

“Some of us have to.”

The instant the words left her mouth she wished she could yank them back. But he didn’t seem offended. Rather, he nodded gravely. “You’re right.” Raising her hand once again, he pressed her palm against his cheek. “I like the feel of your skin on mine. The touch of your hands…without your gloves.”

A tremor tingled up her arm from where her palm rested against his clean-shaven face. “My hands are…not pretty.”

“You’re correct. Like you, they’re exquisite.” He smiled. “Have I mentioned that I think you’re exquisite?”

Dear God, her mind insisted she stop this flirtatious banter. But it was impossible when her frantically beating heart refused to obey. “Not in the last five minutes.”

“A terrible oversight. One I shall correct as soon as I send my brother on his way.” He released her hand and, after a quick assessment of her attire, reached out to make a minor adjustment to her bodice and skirt, then brushed a stray curl from her forehead. “Perfect,” he murmured.

After tunneling his fingers through his own hair, upon which her hands had wreaked havoc, he tugged his jacket into place and extended his elbow. “Shall we?”

She blinked. “Shall we what?”

“Retire to my study where my brother awaits.

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