Page 36 of A Duke Changes Everything
Nick never dreamed he’d find defiance so arousing.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Miss Thorne.” He pointed toward the doorway, then started toward the threshold. If she kept looking at him as she was, he was liable to do things they’d both regret. “Shall we go and take a look at the inventories?”
He told himself that no matter how much he enjoyed sparring with her, he’d enjoy returning to Lyon’s more.
“Wait.” She uttered the word with the same tone of authority Wilder employed with the footmen.
Nick turned back to find her framed in the glow from the window.
A few shafts of sunlight had fought their way through the clouds to caress her skin and gild her hair, showing off hidden strands of gold, a darker burnished shade than the color that sparked in her eyes.
“What is it, Thorne?” He risked a teasing tone. “Did you squirrel away more treasures to be found in the window cushions?”
How could a young woman who’d spent her life sequestered in the countryside fascinate him?
“You haven’t answered my question.”
He had every right to walk away from her. His father barely tolerated a staff member raising their voice, let alone speaking with an ounce of insouciance.
He was beginning to wonder if allowing her to stay on as steward had been a mistake. She occupied far too many of his thoughts and stoked far too powerful a reaction every time she was near.
“What question is that?”
“Which book was your favorite?”
“It’s not here.” He winced, recalling the old flat he’d shared with his mother in Paris. Their rooms on the Rue de Vignon contained no luxuries. Purchasing the book had cost her weeks of saving.
“Did you lose it?”
“I left the volumes behind when I returned to England.”
She scuffed her boot on the floor and bit her lip, assessing him. He could see the questions burning in her mind.
“You left when you were sixteen?”
Nick nodded. That much wasn’t hard to admit.
“I don’t understand why your father lied so thoroughly. To everyone.”
“And yet he did. Especially to himself. My father couldn’t bear the notion of scandal ever marring the Tremayne legacy.” Nick’s throat reverberated with a bitter chuckle.
“And now that reputation is yours to protect.”
Nick flicked back the edges of his frock coat and braced his hands on his hips to keep from clenching them into fists. “None of my feelings about the Tremayne legacy are appropriate for your ears.”
She laughed, and the light sweetness of the sound chilled his rising rage. “Have you heard Mr. Wilder when he’s in his cups? I promise, my ears aren’t as delicate as you think.”
Her words caused him to focus on her ears. They were indeed delicate, perfectly curved shells that he had the urge to trace with his tongue.
Miss Thorne cleared her throat. “So what is the book? Even if you don’t have it anymore, you must remember the title or author.”
“I do. There’s an English translation, but the copy my mother bought me was in French. The author’s language.”
“You speak French?” She sounded so impressed Nick was tempted to tell her he spoke a bit of Italian and Spanish too.
“I do, butNotre-Dame de Parisby Victor Hugo is the first book I read in the language.” He rubbed his fingers together, recalling the texture of the two red leather volumes.
“What’s the story about?”
