Page 66 of The Good Duke
He reallyisa rogue.
At that, a good one. For what else accounted for Persephone’s yearning to tip her chin up a fraction and beat him the rest of the way to that kiss he intended to give?
And she knew that was precisely what he intended. As an innocent young girl, shemayhave been oblivious—mayhave. For she couldn’t believe any woman, regardless of age, wouldn’t have known exactly what Simon’s intentions were.
But with an absolute certainty of a woman who’d been kissed and often…and more, and who’d witnessed desire in a man’s eyes, she recognized it all too well in her best friend—herformerbest friend.
Old Simon wouldn’t have spoken all husky and used his well-muscled body to form a loose barrier between her and the rest of the room.
Thankfully,newPersephone, who’d experienced desire, now well knew the perils of passion and why Adam and Eve had been so warned about the forbidden fruit. That lesson had come down through the cruelest heartbreak. For allthreeof them.
Fortunately, she’dalsomanaged to exit from that former place of employment with her scandal somehow kept secret and her reputation still intact. Almost any other lady would have suffered an ignominious fall from grace.
She’d been lucky once. She wouldn’t, however, always be so fortunate.
In a dizzying whir, Persephone came rushing back to the momentjustas Simon’s lips were a hairsbreadth from meeting hers.
“I wantyou,” she spoke softly.
Simon froze.
“Totellme what you are looking for in a wife, Simon.”
Simon blinked slowly, dazedly.
Taking advantage of his befuddlement, Persephone ducked out from behind him.
She spun away to compose her features and quickly reassemble her thoughts.
When she again faced him, she wore a smile.
He, on the other hand, still had a disoriented way about him.
Good.The lout deserved it.
If there had been any doubts Simon had become a rogue—which therehadn’tbeen—the fact he’d use that smooth, seductive voice on Persephone, of all women, was proof enough.
Persephone sailed across the room, claiming the armchair closest to the foot of Simon’s exquisitely carved mahogany desk.
Humming to both calm herself and feign nonchalance, Persephone made a show of opening her book. When she trusted she appeared fully in control, she glanced up.
Simon’s countenance remained the model of bewilderment. He remained exactly where she’d left him and with his mouth agape.
Then he gave his head the slightest shake, so very slight that had she not been staring intently at him, she would have missed the movement.
“Is something the matter, Simon?” Persephone batted her eyes. “Were you hoping I wanted…something else?”
Bright crimson blotches splotched his cheeks. “No!”
Persephone hid a smile and, leaning forward, she patted the edge of his desk and beckoned him over. “Come, we have important work to do.”
Simon approached with hesitant steps. When he finally reached his gilded, high-back chair, he hovered but did not sit.
Goodness, this is such fun.
Continuing to mask her features, Persephone tipped her neck back and met Simon’s gaze more squarely. “Let’s not tarry, Simon.” Then she rested her pencil and notebook on her lap and gave a single, smart clap.
Like a scared student with a stern tutor, Simon promptly plopped down into the leather folds of his chair.
