Page 19

She could read his lips.

Dear Lord, she could read his lips?

He was just repeating what she’d promised, wasn’t he?

She swallowed and straightened, her fingers resting atop his desk. Then, slowly, she nodded.

Anything.

And his gaze dropped to her chest.

Heat sprung up her neck and across her cheeks.

The most attractive man you’ve ever seen is staring at your tits!

She didn’t need to be reminded.

Breathless, Olivia’s hand rose unbidden to press against her pounding heart, trying to quell its frantic flutter. But the movement only served to draw his gaze, and his lips curled knowingly again.

He… Is this what he’d meant? Is this what he wanted?

He wanted her? Or just her breasts? Would he be willing to reinstate his funding if she showed him her breasts? If she lifted her skirts and showed him other things? If she allowed him to touch her in all the naughty ways she was currently imagining?

Years of schooling should have made her scandalized at the thought, but instead, she just felt…determined.

If it would save her paper, she’d do it.

And she’d enjoy it. It was hardly a choice.

She met his pale gaze, lifted her chin. “Y-Your Grace?”

Still smiling, almost wryly, his lips again formed the word, “Anything?” and he lifted a brow in question.

Almost…a challenge.

Yes.

She licked her lips, uncertain how this sort of thing usually proceeded. “Yes,” she assured him. Yes.

Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of the simple—professional—jacket she wore. He wasn’t being clear at all what he wanted from her, but it seemed to involve her bosom.

If flashing a complete stranger some skin would mean saving her paper, she’d do it.

And you’ll have something to think about later tonight, lying in bed with just your fingers.

That too.

The way he’d looked at her, like he wanted to taste her…well, that thought would keep her fingers busy for a while.

But to her surprise, his eyes widened briefly in shock, then his mouth dropped open and his shoulders shook.

He was…laughing? Laughing silently?

Her fingers stilled, embarrassment coloring her cheeks once more. Drat. She’d said she was willing to humble herself to save her paper, but had she just made a complete fool of herself?

Fingers still on her buttons, she shook her head, frustration making her tone sharp as she bit out, “I don’t understand, Your Grace!”

Still grinning, the duke pulled her reports toward him and picked up a pen. He flipped the papers over, and scrawled something across their blank backside. She found herself holding her breath, waiting to see what he was trying to communicate.