She turned, finally, and found him much closer than she expected. “I was?—”
“Teasing?” he supplied.
Her gaze dropped briefly to his mouth, then snapped back up. “Yes.”
A long pause.
“It wasn’t untrue,” he said, his voice like molasses. “I am difficult. But not impossible. You only have to know where to look.”
She tried to steady her breathing. “And where is that, Your Grace?”
He stepped closer, enough that she could feel the warmth of him, enough that if she reached out, her fingers would find his lapel.
His voice dipped. “That is the question, isn’t it?”
Her heart beat too fast.
“People don’t usually speak to me the way you do.”
“I’ll try to be duller next time,” she said, but it came out breathless.
“Don’t,” he said at once. “I find it… inconveniently compelling.”
She shouldn’t have looked at him then—shouldn’t have met that look in his eyes—but she did. And it undid her. It wasn’t lust exactly. It was interest, intensity, and something rarer: restraint.
Her voice, when it came, was barely audible. “This is not wise.”
“Agreed.”
Still, he reached out—just a touch, a brush of his fingers at the edge of her sleeve. Not enough to be scandalous. Just enough to feel like a promise.
Anna’s breath caught.
“Your Grace…” It was meant as a warning. It sounded too much like a question.
He bent slightly, enough to murmur near her ear, “Say it again.”
“Your Grace,” she repeated—this time softer, shaped with something between defiance and surrender.
Their eyes met. She didn’t move away.
And then—slowly, carefully, as though giving her every chance to pull back—he reached up and tucked a curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a moment too long against her cheek.
Her lashes lowered. His hand stayed where it was.
“I should go,” she whispered.
“You won’t,” he said—not cruelly, just plainly. As though he already knew it.
But she did.
Anna drew in a breath, her eyes still locked with his. And then—slowly, as though her body argued with every step—she stepped back.
His hand fell away.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
She gathered the edge of her skirt with a steadying hand. “This isn’t a game I know how to play, Your Grace.”