And Charlotte knew it was a lie.

Simon driedhimself with a soft towel and handed it to Brown.

“I’ve laid out your banyan should you venture to the next room. Will there be anything else?”

Simon chuckled at his valet’s veiled suggestion that he take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and enter Charlotte’s room. “No. Thank you, Brown.” Charlotte was right about one thing; abath had helped ease his tense muscles and calm his racing mind. However, it didn’t help his growing desire for Charlotte.

Damnation!

Alone, he might need to take care of himself.

Brown exited, closing the door with a softclick.

Simon sighed and glanced toward the bed.

Knock, knock.

His head jerked toward the door. If Brown had forgotten anything so soon, he would have knocked once and then reentered. After snatching the dressing gown from the bed, he slipped it on. Not bothering to tie it, he held it together with one hand, then pulled the door open with the other.

Charlotte stood before him, looking fresh and pink from her bath. Her dark, thick locks flowed over her shoulders, unbraided and free. Luminous in the golden lamplight coming from his room, her deep brown eyes met his, vulnerability in their depths.

Mmm.So lovely.

“Did you need something?” he asked, immediately kicking himself for the idiotic question. Why else would she come to his room? Why hadn’t he thought of something charming to lure her into his bed?

The softness he’d seen in her vanished, replaced with her usual iron resolve.

Maybe he’d imagined it.

“I’ve given what you said some thought.”

Or maybe she was trying to hide it? Holding the door open wider, he motioned her inside.

As she stepped past him, the scent of lemon flooded his senses.

Clean and fresh, it made his mouth water with the urge to taste her. “You’ve changed your fragrance again. It used to be lilac, then vanilla.”

Startled, she pivoted toward him. “You noticed my change in fragrance?”

“I notice a lot of things. Like how the lace on your dressing gown skims your collarbone, drawing my eyes to the soft dent in your throat.” He lifted his gaze from said indentation to her face. “Which I want to kiss almost as much as that dimple.”

She huffed. “I was hoping you would be serious for once.”

“There is nothing I’m more serious about than kissing.” Cautiously, he took a step forward, his gaze locked with hers. Pride expanded his ribcage when her lips parted. He schooled his features into his most serious expression. “But forgive me for interrupting. Please have a seat and tell me your thoughts.”

This time, he waited until she had seated herself in the room’s single chair, then he sat on the bed. The dressing gown gaped, and her eyes flicked down to his exposed chest. “Forgive me. I’ve just finished bathing as well and thought you had settled in for the night.” He tugged the garment closer and tied it.

Ramrod straight, she sat on the chair as if it were a torture device. Although the epitome of control, her hands twisted in her lap. Was she nervous? “I do see some validity in your words.”

“Any in particular?”

“That there might be some slight attraction between us.”

He felt the twitch of his lips.

Which apparently her keen perception had caught, for she rushed to clarify. “More so on your part, of course.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But it would be unfair if I didn’t admit the obvious.”

“Which is?” It was like pulling teeth. Not that he’d know. Thank goodness, he still had all of his own.