Page 28 of Temptations of a Wallflower
“Lady Sarah!” he said automatically.
For there she was, looking perfectly edible in a peach gown with a dark blue spencer over it. She glanced up in surprise at hearing her name. But the moment she saw him, surprise gave way to something far warmer.
Pleasure burst in his chest. Would she be glad to see him? He’d given the three fashion plates a set-down the other day. But had she wanted his cutting candor?
He stepped closer, yet gave her enough of a respectful distance. It wouldn’t do to crowd her.
“Are you following me?” she asked with a teasing glint in her eye.
“Spycraft is not one of my skills,” he said. Then, “I feared you might be angry with me.”
“Why would I?” she whispered.
“Because of yesterday. I was . . . abrupt with those people.”
She shook her head, soft curls framing her face. “They deserved it.”
Another surge of relief rushed through him.
“Besides,” she murmured, “it’s I who should wonder whether or not you’d be upset with me.”
“No reason to,” he answered at once.
“There’s every reason. I . . . pushed you too hard.”
He felt his face redden at that, but not for her reason. Words likepushandhardtook on much more salacious meaning to him when she said them.
“I should have known that what I asked of you wasn’t appropriate,” she said regretfully.
“It’s your friends that should apologize,” he replied. “What they did was inexcusable.”
She gave a rueful, angry laugh. “They are no friends of mine, and after that trick they pulled yesterday, I’ve vowed never to speak to them again.”
After a moment, she glanced up at him through her lashes, looking shy and lovely. “Then . . . there are no resentments or feuds between us?”
“None,” he said quickly, stepping nearer so that only a dozen inches separated them.
A smile bloomed on her face, easing the worry that had tightened her features. “I cannot tell you how pleased that makes me.”
“And your pleasure is mine.” He realized too late how that comment might be read more than one way, and her eyes widened. “That is . . . I meant . . .”
“I know what you meant.” She laughed again. The sound rang like a bell deep in his chest.
They stood in sociable silence for a moment, and he smelled the delicate jasmine fragrance that followed her wherever she went. It shamed him to consider how he’d invoked her yesterday when touching himself.Could she see what he’d done? Was it written on his face? He’d been overcome with desire for her. Helpless before the ravenous beast of his need.
“What brings you here?” she asked, unaware of his thoughts.
“I’d heard about this bookshop from my father.” The lie came too quickly. But he couldn’t very well tell her the exact nature of his visit. A fine woman like Lady Sarah likely knew nothing of the Lady of Dubious Quality.
She frowned. “I didn’t think Lord Hutton was familiar with a place like this. It’s not precisely known by the gentry. It’s more a favorite of prosperous bankers and brewers.”
“Yet you’re here,” he pointed out.
“Because the McKinnons are the best booksellers in London,” she answered with a curve of her mouth. “Their book selection is incomparable.”
“Perhaps it was someone else who recommended this shop,” he prevaricated. “Difficult to remember. What do you read now?”
She held up the cover. “A treatise on knot tying.”
