Page 72 of Cocky August Rake
Instead, it left nothing to disguise the breadth of his shoulders or the strength the sea had carved into him. A few dark strands had fallen over his brow, and his open collar showed a tempting stretch of sun-browned skin.
Rose’s mouth went dry.
His silver eyes found hers.
And brightened.
“Miss Darling.”
Rose lifted her chin, though she could feel the smile threatening at the corners of her mouth. “My lord.”
For several seconds, that was the extent of their greeting.
His gaze moved over her face, lingering just long enough to warm her skin. “Have you come looking for me?”
“I was thinking of walking to the bookseller’s.”
He blinked, and then his mouth quirked. “And my offices are on the way?”
“I, er…” Rose barely kept herself from stuttering. What had seemed like a perfectly logical plan the night before suddenly felt more than a little foolish. “I came to ask whether you required anything.”
“From the bookseller.”
Rose shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps you have been longing for a volume of poetry.”
“I have not.”
“A philosophical treatise?”
“No.”
Behind them, Mr. Huxley cleared his throat.
They both turned.
The secretary looked from Rose to Reginald and then deliberately lowered his gaze to the documents before him.
Reginald looked back at her.
“You ought not walk alone.”
Rose tilted her head. “Are you offering to escort me?”
“I need to meet with Mr. Sedgewick.”
The name was somewhat familiar, but Rose was too disappointed to recall why. “Oh. Well…” She concealed the sinking feeling with a forced smile. “Then I shall not keep you.”
Reginald glanced toward the stairs. Then back at her.
“Sedgewick isn’t going anywhere.”
The warmth returned. “Is that so?” Rose murmured.
This time, his smile appeared fully.
The Compass and Quill was tucked between a milliner and a seller of antiquities, its bowed window crowded with gilt-edged volumes, rolled maps, and a large brass globe.
When they stepped inside, Rose took Reginald by the hand, leading him directly to the rear of the shop.
