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“I’ll do my best not to embarrass you,” she said quietly.

He put down his knife and fork. “You won’t embarrass me. I’m the one who’s grateful.” He stretched out a hand to touch hers briefly.

She blinked, shocked and unexpectedly moved. His hand was warm, his touch comforting. She resisted the urge to clasp his fingers tightly. This is a business arrangement, not one of affection.

“I’ve bellowed at you at least a dozen times in the last few days and you haven’t blinked an eyelid. I’m a grumpy curmudgeon. I’m sorry.”

“I’m used to being yelled at. My mother does it a lot.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have to tolerate it. I’ll try to manage my temper better,” he said with a rueful smile.

“It’s all right.” She smiled back. “I think I understand why you do it.”

“You do?” His blue eyes seemed to get more intensely blue as he looked at her. “I don’t. Please tell me.”

“Well, it generally occurs when you feel uncomfortable.”

“Yes, when something isn’t where it’s supposed to be. Or my routine is disrupted.”

“So, you yell to—to release the uncomfortable feelings and make things comfortable again.”

“Yes, that’s true. But I make you uncomfortable in the process, which is selfish of me. I’m not used to having someone else’s feelings to consider. Only the servants, and I pay them to put up with me.”

“Well, you’re paying me too, aren’t you?” she asked prosaically.

“Hm.” He pushed his plate aside and picked up his wine.

She stole a look at him. He was frowning at the middle distance as if he was thinking about something he didn’t like. She had thought his features too harsh to be handsome, and he was still fearsome when he frowned, but she must be getting used to his face because he seemed a great deal more attractive in general now, especially when he smiled. It’s a business arrangement, she reminded herself sternly, again. You shouldn’t be thinking about him as a man. An attractive man . . . Oh dear!

She pushed her plate aside. “I think I’ll retire now, I’m tired.”

He rose when she did. “Good night. I have a few things to attend to myself while we are in London. If I don’t see you in the morning, we will no doubt catch each other later in the day. Sleep well.” He hesitated and then leaned down and kissed her cheek. It was fleeting, like the kiss he gave her after they were married. But the warm pressure of his lips on her cheek sent a shiver through her body that made her jerk in surprise.

He jerked back, flushing, and turned away abruptly. “Good night!” he repeated brusquely. She touched her cheek and eyed his stiffened shoulders. Really, he would think she was a complete ninny if she jerked every time he touched her. Intuitively she sensed he was sensitive to rejection. Was that why he turned away when she reacted like that?

She left the room thoughtfully. Perhaps I’m not the only one sensing some kind of attraction.

*

Whatever possessed me to kiss her cheek like that?

He had promised her he wouldn’t bother her, and it was clear from her reaction that she didn’t welcome his touch. She had just got through reminding him that he was paying her to put up with him. She was his wife (temporarily, in name only) and a paid employee. He had no business touching her under their current contract. If he was going to do that, he would have to change the rules. And if he opened that particular Pandora’s box, he would have to be prepared for what came out because it couldn’t be shut again. He was not at all sure he wanted to find out . . .

If she weren’t so damned pretty . . .