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Theo screeched. She whipped to her side, eyes wide. “Your Grace! I hadn’t thought you were still here. Are you well?”

He stared at her, brows pinched in a wince, hand covering his nose. “Smarts a bit.”

She wrinkled her nose as she shook out her hand. She’d really thrown her arms out for that stretch.

“I’m so sorry.” She paused. And cocked her head. “You’re still abed.” She glanced at the clock on her chest of drawers. It was quarter to seven. He never departed any later than six.

He glanced away, still rubbing his nose.

And her hands were unbound. Which meant he’d been awake for some time—at least longer than she had been. And was still in her bed. And wasn’t planning for a bout of bedsport.

“Why are you here?”

A soft blush dotted his cheeks. A telling blush. She rolled atop him, a smile splitting her face. “Your Grace…why are you still here?”

He grunted.

She rested her elbows on his expansive chest and plopped her chin in her hands. She bounced her eyebrows. “Never say it. Duke…do you enjoy my company?”

He glared at her wall.

“You wanted to spend time with me,” she sang. She was much too happy at the thought.

“I’m regretting my decision.”

Theo leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his neck. She traversed a slow path to his jawline, tracing that hard jaw with her tongue. She hummed. A light stubble covered his cheeks, rough against her mouth. Unkempt. Untamed. He seemed more…man in the morning. Less Duke. Just a man in her bed.

She straddled his waist and pushed up to sitting. The sheet fell to her waist, and his attention snapped to her breasts. “Still regretting your decision?”

He let out a slow, shaky breath. “Not even a bit.” His gaze flicked back up to hers. “That isn’t—this isn’t why I stayed.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I didn’t stay for that. I don’t expect…”

She sat back, running a hand absently through his chest hair as she watched him. He was…nervous. Embarrassed before. Nervous now. He was being odd.

“I was wondering…if perhaps we could break our fast together.”

The organ in her chest went soft and fuzzy. He did want to spend time with her. Non-shagging time. It’s not something they’d ever done. They were either meeting over estate business or…well, shagging.

Theo bit her lip, attention raking over his solid, muscled form. She didn’t hate the idea of cooking breakfast with him. Naked. She hopped out of bed and gave his hand a tug. “Come. Let’s cook.”

He followed, pausing to lift his arms above his head for a full-body stretch. Her breath caught. Dear Lord. His muscles rippled as they all went taut and then immediately lax. His cock bobbed with the movement, not hard, but not all the way soft either. She swallowed hard. Yes, most definitely making breakfast naked.

He bent to pick up his smalls.

“Leave them.”

He stilled, partially bent over. He blinked at her.

She threw him a cheeky smile. “A benefit of having my own cottage. I can wander around naked all I like. There are no servants here, Your Grace. And I want to admire that ducal arse while you attempt to fry an egg.”

He straightened, his lips curling in a hint of a smile. “I’m certain I’ll manage well enough.”

They settled themselves in the kitchen, ingredients spread out over the worktable, coal burning in the range. She had a pot on the stove boiling coffee grounds, some cold meat from yesterday, and some bread to toast up to enjoy with the eggs.

His Grace stared down at the frying pan, an egg in one hand, a frown marring his brow. Theo bit back her chuckle. She tossed him an apron—which hit him smack in the face before he caught it with his free hand. “Protect the equipment, Your Grace.” She glanced at his groin, then back at his face. “You don’t want heated fat spatter hitting you there.”

He winced and quickly threw on the apron.

Theo hummed approvingly as she walked up to his side. She looked up at him. Then smacked him hard on the arse. He jumped, eyes going wide.