Page 15 of One Night with a Prince
“A bit.” His ingratiating smile took in both of them. “In my business, it pays to know a smattering of other languages.”
Rosa nodded, though she still looked wary. But when he rattled off more Spanish, she cast him a cautious smile. Her short response, however, must have been saucy, for he burst into laughter. After a second she even joined him.
Then he said in English, “Rosa, why don’t you show Mrs. Watts where we’ll be doing the fittings for your mistress’s gowns? Her footmen are waiting to bring in bolts of fabric.”
Before Christabel could stop her, Rosa took the dressmaker off. Christabel turned to Byrne with a frown. “I thought this was a consultation.”
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“It’s also a fitting. I want Mrs. Watts to get started on your gowns right away. She’s making it her first priority.”
“I can’t afford that!”
“Ah, but I can. And the quickest way for people to learn that you’re my mistress is if they hear I bought you expensive gowns.”
She considered that a moment, torn between pride and practicality, as footmen marched through the vestibule to the parlor, carrying bolts of muslin and sarcenet. “I suppose you do this all the time,” she grumbled.
He took that for the acquiescence it was. “Occasionally. Although fortunately, my mistress’s husbands generally pay for their gowns.”
She stuck out her chin. “Then I’ll pay you for mine later.”
“I’m getting a barony out of this—that’s payment enough.” He slanted her a glance. “Besides, if I letyou pay for them, you’ll probably buy the coarsest linsey and plenty of dimity and fustian.”
Because that was all she could afford. “That’s practical for the country. And we are going to be in the country, aren’t we?”
“Trust me, no one at this affair will be dressed in fustian. I mean to see you in gauze and silk and sheer muslin.” He bent close to murmur, “Verysheer muslin.”
Ignoring the sudden racing of her pulse, she said, “Is that what you said to Rosa in Spanish?”
“I told her I could afford satins and silks. And I told her I would treat you well.” His eyes gleamed with humor. “She said that if I didn’t, she’d feed me my privates for breakfast.” At Christabel’s groan, he chuckled. “Do you find your servants on the battlefield, for God’s sake? Do you test them on marksmanship and swordplay before you hire them?”
“Very funny. Rosa is a soldier’s widow. That taught her to be fierce.”
“Much like her mistress.” He drew her aside to avoid a footman carrying a particularly large bolt of rose satin. “God help the poor fellow who waylays you two in some dark alley. He’s liable to have his head shot off.”
She sniffed. “Sometimes a woman has to defend herself.”
“And sometimes, my sweet, she should allow a man to defend her.”
“As long as that man isn’t the same one she needs defense from.”
He shot her a seductive smile. “In which case, there are more effective ways of bringing him to his knees than shooting at him.”
She fought to ignore the sensual pull of his dark flirtations. “As if you would know—have youever let a woman bring you to your knees?”
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“I do it in bed all the time.” He scoured her with a wicked gaze, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “I can’t wait to be on my knees with you.”
A vivid image of him kneeling between her parted thighs rose in her mind, shocking her. “You’ll be waiting an eternity for that,” she shot back, as much to convince herself as him. He merely laughed. The audacity of the man! Did he haveno intention of holding to their bargain? Or could he simply not help trying to seduce any woman within reach? Well, it wouldn’t work with her. She refused to let his flirtations make her imagine what he’d be like in bed. Or wonder if he would be gentle or rough. If he would leave her feeling vaguely dissatisfied afterward the way Philip always had—
Oh, Lord, how could she even think about such things with her husband freshly in the grave? Byrne drew her into the nearby dining room out of the way of the trooping footmen. Glancing around, he caught sight of a portrait over the mantel that she’d brought with her from Rosevine. His eyes narrowed.
“Your father?”
“How did you know?”
“The uniform.” He smiled. “And the resemblance. You have his fierce green eyes and stubborn chin.”
