Page 71 of Second Duke's the Charm

“Tell me to stop if—”

“Just show me.”

He seemed to have lost the ability to speak eloquently, and she bit back a smile. She loved the fact that the tightly controlled businessman had dissolved into base, inarticulate male. Perhaps shedidhave the ability to befuddle a man after all. With or without a silk negligee. He still hadn’t said her name, but there would be other chances to even the books.

The sound of muted conversation from the adjacent room jolted her from her recollections; Thornton was there with his majordomo, Simms. Tess dressed without waiting for Hannah’s assistance, and her stomach fluttered as she descended the stairs for breakfast.

Thornton arrived in the breakfast room only a few minutes later, looking as stern and as perfectly turned out as ever, and she was seized with a disconcerting desire to dishevel him. To ruffle his hair and untie his cravat and tug his jacket askew, so he looked more like the lover who’d ravished her in bed, and less like the starchy industrialist he appeared this morning.

But his forbidding appearance softened as his lips curved up, and she noticed the heat in his eyes. Blood rushed to her own cheeks as she noted the unusually high number of servants who just happened to be hovering around. Everyone clearly wanted to see how the wedding night had progressed.

“Good morning, Your Grace.” Thornton’s smile was for her alone.

“Good morning.” Tess bobbed a curtsey so brief it was clearly a mockery.

How ridiculous was it to be so formal when he’d beeninside heronly a few hours ago? Still, it was a charade they were expected to play.

They both sat.

Withers poured her some tea. Thornton asked for coffee.

Mrs. Ward bustled in with a covered plate and placed it with great ceremony between them on the table. She bobbed a curtsey at Thornton.

“I’ve made that breakfast you asked for, Your Grace.”

Tess raised her brows at him in silent question.

“I requested one of my particular favorites,” he said with a smile. “In Canada they call itpain perdu. Lost bread. It’s bread dipped in milk and eggs, then fried.”

Mrs. Ward nodded. “We call it French toast, here.” She whipped off the domed lid and Tess inhaled the delicious aroma.

“That smells marvelous, Mrs. Ward. I’m famished.”

The cook sent her an amused, congratulatory wink. “I should hope so, my lady.”

When the servants had left, Thornton gestured to a small stoneware jug on the table. “I have another present for you. A new experience. Something you’ve probably never tried before.”

Tess bit back a private smile. She’d had alotof new experiences in the past twelve hours.

“What is it?” She removed the cork stopper, and took a tentative sniff.

“It’s a syrup, all the way from Canada. It comes from the sap of a certain kind of maple tree. The people there have produced it for centuries, and I must admit I’ve developed quite a liking for it. It’s sweet, like honey, but with an entirely unique taste.”

Intrigued, Tess poured a small puddle onto her plate. She was just wondering how to sample it when Thornton rose and came to stand by her chair. He dipped his finger into the amber liquid and held it in front of her mouth.

“Try it.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement and the hint of a dare.

Her stomach somersaulted. She was clearly supposed to lick it off.

Never taking her eyes from his, she leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to his finger. Her heart pounded with dark delight.

“What does it taste like?” His voice was rougher than before.

“Hmm. It’s very sweet, almost like caramel, or burnt sugar. It’s a stronger taste than honey.”

She took another lick, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.