Page 28

Ivy’s gaze crawled up his body with the bed behind him as an inspired backdrop.

She tried to imagine what he might look like without his shirt and trousers, standing just there, with the backs of his knees almost touching the mattress.

Errant thoughts about his black body hair skittered through her mind.

‘If you keep looking at me like that, things might get quite a deal more scandalous than merely unstockinged feet.’ Edward’s voice had grown rough.

Ivy blinked, forcing her focus away from his thick thighs, wide shoulders, and trim waist to look at the floor.

Not the floor! Now I’m staring at his feet again.

She turned away from him completely, pressing a hand against her cheek. ‘It is rather warm in this room, don’t you think? Perhaps I should open a window.’ But to do that, she would need to crawl over the bed as the window was on the left wall.

‘I haven’t noticed any issues with temperature until now.’

Ivy straightened her spine and turned back to face him. ‘Well. It is sweltering.’ She tapped her finger against her dress in agitation.

Edward’s stern mouth softened. ‘Would you prefer we relocate to the parlour?’

As if he would be any less appealing standing in the parlour with his bare feet, muscled arms stretching the fabric of his shirt, and smouldering stare.

How do blue eyes smoulder? Shouldn’t they be cool like a deep pond or stormy ocean?

She was getting distracted. Again. ‘I would prefer you show me whatever it is that has you stealing my tray and luring me into your room so I can reclaim my hot chocolate and retire to my bed.’

‘Luring you into my room? Shocking accusations! I am the Commissioner of Scotland Yard. I track down the evil villains thieving trays of hot chocolate; I don’t lure innocent ladies into my room with those trays.’

I am not amused.

But the fizzing bubble of laughter trapped between her belly and throat begged to differ.

Edward wagged his finger at her like a scolding headmaster. ‘Besides, you stormed in here of your own accord in pursuit of confectionery delights.’

Forcing her mouth to remain in a firm line, she put her hands on her hips in her best imitation of a scolding headmistress. ‘Which I never would have done if you weren’t an evil, chocolate-thieving villain.’

For a moment, they stared at each other.

While Edward’s eyes danced with mischief, his face remained deadly serious.

Ivy wasn’t about to break first. It was an epic battle against the laughter threatening to defeat them both.

Ivy didn’t usually win battles, but she was determined to claim this victory.

The left corner of Edward’s mouth twitched, then the right. He shook his head as a breathtaking smile changed him from stern commissioner to charming duke. ‘You have me there.’

Ivy felt a surge of pride wash through her. She beat him. What an unusual and addictive feeling. She quite liked winning. She might try doing it again.

Deciding to be gracious in her victory, she dropped her hands and clasped them behind her. ‘What is it you wish to show me?’

He moved to his desk, waving her over and pulling out the chair for her. Ivy was achingly aware of his large, strong body just inches away from her as she carefully sat.

He leaned over her, pulling two notes into the circle of light cast by the lamp.

Jamaican spice, soap, and the faintest hint of linseed enveloped her.

Turning slightly, she inhaled, drawing his scent into her lungs and holding him there as something tightened in her centre, then slowly began to unfurl.

Edward clenched his hand into a fist. Almost as if he knew the strange effect he was having on her. Almost as if she might be having a similar effect on him.

He had rolled up his sleeves. She hadn’t noticed before.

I was too distracted by his toes.

His forearms were covered in a dusting of black hair, but it didn’t hide the movement of muscle and sinew. He leaned ever so slightly closer to her.

‘This is the note you found in your pocket.’ He relaxed his fist and nudged one of the notes. His low voice caused a resonating hum across her skin.

‘Yes.’ She was far too breathless.

‘And here is the one we found in Thurston’s pocket.

’ He placed the second piece of parchment next to the first. With one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk next to her, he bracketed her body with his own.

She should feel trapped. Caged. Frightened.

But she didn’t. If she turned her head, their faces would be almost touching.

For a wild moment, she nearly acted on impulse and closed the distance between them. Which was sheer madness.

Focus on the note.

Clearing her throat and wiping suddenly damp hands on her skirt, she bent her head to better see both missives. ‘The writing isn’t the same.’

‘Exactly.’ Edward tapped a long finger on the upward stroke of the letter ‘D’ from Ivy’s note. ‘Whoever wrote this has a light hand.’

Ivy picked up the second piece of parchment, holding it closer to better inspect the ink markings.

‘And this is a much heavier pen stroke. Also…’ She rubbed the paper between her thumb and finger, then did the same with the second one.

‘My note is on thicker parchment.’ She flipped both pages over.

‘Even the seals are slightly different. This wax is much darker.’ Offering them to Edward so he could look, his fingers brushed against hers as he took them.

He cleared his throat and straightened, moving away from her and the lamplight. He squinted valiantly at the seals. ‘Yes. Very good, Lady Ivy.’

‘Just Ivy.’

Edward’s gaze was sharp. ‘What?’

‘I think we can dispense with formalities. I have seen your naked toes, after all.’ Her attempt at levity failed the moment ‘naked’ escaped her lips.

No lady would ever utter such scandalous words. I’ve become a wanton.

She stood, nearly knocking the chair over in her haste. ‘Well. Right. I should go.’

Spinning away, she lunged for the door, let herself into the hall, and rushed to her room. It wasn’t until she slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, breathing as hard as a stallion at full gallop, she realised.

‘Damnation! The hot chocolate.’

Oh God. He’s going to know I forgot it. And that I was too much of a ninny to go back and get it. Perhaps I could wait until he is abed and sneak into his room.

Ivy slid to the floor and thunked her head against the door. The kitten crawled out from under her bed and pounced on her lap.

‘Ridiculous plan, kitty.’

The solid wood supporting her suddenly disappeared, and she fell backwards onto the floor. Her upper half was lying in the hallway while her legs were still in her room. The kitten hissed, leapt from her belly, and skittered down the hall.

Edward stood above her, the tray of hot coffee in his hand. ‘A kitten.’

Scrambling to her feet, her chignon irrevocably destroyed, cheeks flaming, skin no doubt blotching like strawberries squished on a porcelain plate, Ivy searched desperately for something to say. Anything that wouldn’t make her sound like an utter cake. ‘Err, yes. That is my kitten.’

‘Did you fall? Are you well?’

‘I’m fine. I was sitting on the floor already so…’

Because that’s what any young lady does after nearly kissing a man in his bedroom. She scurries away and sits ever so demurely on her floor with a kitten purring on her belly.

‘Ah. Well. You forgot something.’

‘I, err, yes. My hot chocolate. Thank you.’

I am the biggest fool in all the land.

Edward tipped his head in the direction of her open door. ‘Shall I just…?’

It would be petty of her to wrestle the tray away from him so he couldn’t enter her room. After all, she’d been in his bedroom. What harm could come of letting him into hers if only to deposit the tray and then leave?

Ivy nodded her head in jerky movements and motioned to the desk. A much neater version than Edward’s with her lists neatly stacked in organised piles.

‘You can put it there.’

How odd to have a man in her room. Her earlier wonderings came back to haunt her.

I have an invited visitor. Though really, I only asked him in to be polite. And get my chocolate. Not because I want him in my room.

It was no use. She had always been dreadful at telling lies.

Good gracious. I do want him in my room.

The space seemed much smaller than moments before as she followed him to her desk. She didn’t realise she was hovering until Edward turned around after depositing the tray and nearly crashed into her. His large hands gripped her arms to steady her.

Don’t look up. If you look up, you’ll be lost in those eyes. You’ll stare at his mouth. He’ll know. He’ll know what you’re thinking.

She looked up. And lost herself in his eyes. Stared at his firm lips. And saw the flash in his gaze the moment he knew. He knew what she was thinking.

‘Ivy—’

‘I think I’d like you to kiss me,’ she blurted.

Edward took a deep breath, his gaze searching. ‘Do you think it, or do you know?’ He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her bicep, and even through the thin cotton sleeve of her dress, she felt the spark of friction.

‘I know.’ Tilting her chin up, she refused to break eye contact. She would not let fear stop her. Because greater than her fear was a desire to finally understand. To experience the sensation of Edward’s lips pressing against her own.

‘Well, thank God for that.’

Slowly, so she had ample time to pull back, Edward lowered his head closer to hers.

He never looked away. In her limited experience of watching people kiss and be kissed, they always closed their eyes.

But he was watching her so closely, Ivy’s heart fluttered madly.

His pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the dark-blue irises.

His mouth hovered a moment away from hers.

‘You smell like Jamaican spice.’

Oh, God. I said that. Out loud. Idiot!

He froze, the skin around his eyes crinkling in a smile. ‘Do you like Jamaican spice?’

Ivy licked her lips. ‘Yes. V-very much.’

‘More than chocolate?’ His breath skated over her lips like the echo of a kiss.

‘More than chocolate.’ She slid her hand up his rather rippling bicep and held firm to his granite shoulder.

He leaned down, but instead of pressing his mouth against hers, he brushed his lips lightly over her cheekbone.

It felt like the graze of a moth’s wing.

Moving slowly, he feathered kisses over the corner of her eye, the curve of her jaw where it met her ear, the sensitive skin of her neck where her pulse beat madly, the tip of her nose, until she was simultaneously burning like a flame and melting into a puddle.

‘Kiss me. Please!’ It wasn’t a request. It was a demand. She tightened her grip on his linen shirt. If he didn’t take her mouth with his own immediately, she was quite certain her entire body would combust into flames.

‘I am kissing you.’

Bastard!

Before she could pull away and unleash her venom on him for being a heartless tease, he wrapped his long fingers around her neck, holding her still.

His gaze consumed her. Ivy was certain the man could see beyond her shields, right into the hidden depths of her soul.

Bending his head closer, he brushed his lips against hers.

Cripes. He’s kissing me. I am being kissed.

She tingled from the soft sensation, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

Pushing up on her toes, Ivy’s hands found their way over his strong shoulders, gripping his neck and pulling him closer.