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Lydia looked back at him evenly for a moment, then smiled sweetly as she got up.

“If you want to allow our success to slow down because of your wounded pride, that is your choice to make,” she stated smoothly. “But I, for one, have enjoyed the pace we have set, and would like to continue it.”

The challenge, the insinuation that he wanted to slow down, twisted his temper into something hotter. So, she thought he was weak if he refused her help, did she? Well. She would pay for that, he decided.

“I think I shall punish you and accept your help at the same time,” Ezra mused, standing up as well.

“And how do you propose you do that?” Lydia asked as he walked toward her. He took the writing utensils from her hand and brought them back to his side of the desk.

“You will indeed do my writing for me,” Ezra retorted, coming back to her.

Lydia attempted to step out of his reach as he grasped for her waist, but he caught her easily and grinned when she gasped.

“You will just be doing so from my lap.”

Lydia’s face paled before her cheeks flushed bright red and she fought his grasp. They had not discussed her reward since he had been assaulted; there simply hadn’t been enough time, but it had unlocked something new between them, and he knew they both felt it.

“This is absolutely preposterous,” Lydia muttered as she felt her backside being forced down onto Ezra’s lap. “I can write from across the desk!”

She truly had come in to help, but when he began to snap at her she could not help but tease him. It had obviously been a mistake on her part, and he wanted to prove to her that while she could compete with him, she could never win. No matter how injured, Ezra always seemed to have the metaphorical upper hand.

“Yes, but I would have to watch you write upside down,” Ezra countered lazily, his voice almost sultry in her ear, “that would be most annoying.”

“Yes, thatis a true annoyance,” she scoffed, pushing with both hands at his good one locked around her waist.

She tried to wiggle free again but his fingers bit into her hips, stopping her with apparent ease. Ezra might be more compact than his friends, yes, but she was sure that he was by far the strongest.

“I highly suggest you stop doing that,” Ezra mused into her ear, his tone calm as he held her still, “Unless you actuallywantour work to slow down.”

Lydia immediately stopped squirming and allowed herself to settle on Ezra’s lap. From below, she felt something tap against her backside, and she blushed deeply once she realized what it was.

“Are you ready to help me with my task now?” Ezra asked, his tone teasing as his hands stroked up her waist.

“Yes,” she replied curtly, ignoring her blushing cheeks and racing thoughts. She did not want to tease him anymore, she decided.

“Very good,” Ezra praised in her ear.

She could hear the sarcasm and taunting in his voice, but she ignored the sensations his praise caused and picked up her pen. To her relief, Ezra’s tone shifted from sultry to serious, and as he spoke his desired words into her ear, she wrote them verbatim. Soon, her annoyance faded as she became ensconced in her task.

The rhythm and tone of Ezra’s voice were easy to pay attention to, and she found her body relaxing comfortably in his lap as she wrote one missive after another. Ezra also seemed to relax, for as he watched and guided her words, she felt his hands begin to smooth their way along her back and around her waist. Not in a tugging, demanding, or teasing way. It was as if he was touching her absentmindedly and it was soothing to him.

Curious if that was even possible, Lydia allowed his touch to continue but noticed an immediate effect. It was distracting. Normally she was able to hear every word Ezra spoke; his deep voice and seemingly effortless eloquence made it easy to do so. But, as his hands continued to caress and massage the muscles of her back, it became impossible for her to continue paying attention.

Lashes fluttering, Lydia closed her eyes to the soothing pleasure of his touch and let the pen fall from her fingertips. As soon as it hit the desk, a burst of ink shot forth onto the letter, creating a deep, black splatter among the words, and Ezra’s hands ceased their seduction.

With a jolt, Lydia blushed as she reached for the pen with one hand and the nearby cloth with the other.

“Is this boring to you?” Ezra asked.

His hands had stilled at her waist, and she felt his fingers tighten there as he pressed her back down into his lap.

“I…no,” Lydia stammered, suddenly feeling feverish.

She mentally reached for her wit but there was no sarcastic remark to be found.

“I…I am so sorry, I do not know what happened,” she apologized.

She moved to turn in his lap, but he stopped her and slowly turned her back until she was facing forward again, and her back was flush to his chest.