Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [32]
His logic was not acceptable, even if it made an odd sort of practical sense. “You have not slept at all yet?”
“Not a wink, although I did have my valet get me out of my boots and such. For me, it is still yesterday.”
He had been whoring and drinking all night was what he meant. She might have been ushered in when he was indeed naked in bed.
She stood. “Then I should come back when, for you, it is today.”
He sighed dramatically and looked to heaven for patience. “Stop acting like a schoolgirl. I am hardly indecent. Sit and have some breakfast, and we will address the matter that brings you here. Unless, of course, you never want to talk about it. If I am never to call on you, and you are not going to call on me, I do not see how anything will progress, however.”
Accepting that she would have to indulge him his outré behavior, up to a point, she sat at the table. He joined her and poured her some coffee.
“Do not worry about scandal,” he said. “I promise that the servants who enter this apartment and who serve us today are rigidly discreet.”
“It is good to know that your servants care about my reputation even if you do not.”
“I care a great deal about it. That is why we are here. Even a meeting in my study would be more public. I have faith in the servants who saw to you this morning, but I cannot vouch for the others.”
She leaned forward and looked him right in the eyes. “That is not why I am here. I would appreciate it if you remember your first impression of me—that I am not a fool.” She straightened. “And if you think your dishabille in any way makes you more seductive, you are mistaken. It only reminds me what an inconstant, irresponsible hedonist you are.”
He served himself some eggs and offered some to her. When she declined, he spooned some on her plate anyway. “Another scold. I am astonished that I don’t mind more than I do. I am keeping count, however, should I ever be inclined to discipline you in return.”
He ate his meal. She removed her gloves and picked at hers. The domesticity of the situation pressed on her. This private breakfast insinuated intimacy even more than his dishabille had.
Finally he set aside his silver. “I am sending men out to The Rarest Blooms to investigate what of value might be there besides pretty gardens. They will also look at the plot you never used.”
“They will be looking for metals and such, you mean.”
“Yes. It would be best if you had your housekeeper and that young woman Katherine come and stay with you in London. They may find the presence of these men intrusive.”
“And what of those pretty gardens? And the income that derives from them? They require constant care. What you request is ruinous.”
“Can you not hire some man for the time needed? I thought there was one already in your employ, who accompanies the plants that are brought to London.”
“He drives a wagon. He is hardly fit to manage the entire business. If I could hire some man to tend the flowers and the plants without depleting the profit entirely, my hands would not look like this.” She held one out. For all her care, its skin showed the labor over the years in subtle but noticeable ways.
He decided that her gesture invited him to examine her hand closely. He took it in his own. She barely managed not to jump in alarm as soft skin and tense strength enfolded her fingers. He turned her hand this way and that under his scrutiny. His thumb caressed both palm and back, checking the roughness.
She suffered it. She maintained her poise. She did not allow the way that stroking thumb affected her to show. But lively shivers worked their way up her arm from where he gazed and touched. They rose higher with every thoughtful stroke until they tingled her neck and began a downward path in her body.
Her breasts turned sensitive, ridiculously so. It was as if she could feel that thumb brushing them.
Did he know what he was doing to her? Was he so confident as that? She