Page 53 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“I do that now, as your valet.” Sighing, she placed her hands against his bare chest. “Thorne, this was fun, but I don’t see a need to change who weare. You’re a duke, I’m your valet. This? This was fun.”
“But…ye dinnae want to do it again?”
“What? Yesof courseI want to do it again.” It wasn’t until relief flooded his expression that she realized how vulnerable that question had been, and her tone softened. “I can be your valet and your…your…”
Mistress.
Whore.
His lips twitched, as if he could hear her confusion. “Fook buddy?”
Kit snorted at the description. “I’m just saying, we can continue as before, duke and valet. But here in your chambers, we can be…Thorne and Kit.”
“Thorne and Kit,” he repeated at a whisper, one hand moving to her upper arm, his touch warm. “Aye, I’d like that. To the rest of the world, though, will ye be a lad?”
She hadn’t thought of that. And judging from the things Thorne had said to her when he still thought her a male, she didn’t think he was asking because he was concerned for his reputation. So she hummed uncertainly.
“Idolike the trousers…and the pockets…”
Thorne’s lips twitched again as his caress moved up past her shoulders to finger the auburn curls drying around her ears. “Do me a favor, at least?” His gaze was soft, almost reverent, as he brushed his fingers through her hair. “Dinnae try to tame this bounty again? With yer hair free around yer shoulders, ye…”
Look like a whore.
Look like a woman.
Look like someone I’ve just fooked.
He swallowed and met her eyes. “Ye are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Oh.
Slowly, softly, his lips found hers.
This kiss felt like the one in the tub, only full of…promise, perhaps? Hope, definitely. Thorne was telling her what she meant to him.
And Kit wasn’t certain if she was ready for it.
When the kiss ended, she pressed her cheek against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Thank ye,” he whispered to the crown of her head. “Thank ye for trusting me, Kit.”
Her eyes squeezed shut.
Dio Benedetto, no matter how beautiful he was, she couldn’t afford to fall in love with Thorne.
Chapter 11
Haydn’sConcertoNumber One in C-Majorswept across Thorne’s brain, making the words in front of him sharper, somehow. Or perhaps it was merely his understanding of them. Who would have thought that becoming a duke meant so muchsheep?
What are the sheep eating? Where are they shiteing? How does this affect the farmers’ access to water? What is the price at the Edinburgh market versus Glasgow? Which will ship overseas, and how much is a fair price for the wool?
Fook.
Thorne had secretaries and stewards and men of business who handled most of this shite, but his uncle had always said it was important for a duke to know his land. Know his sheep, apparently.
Frankly, Thorne was looking forward to escaping London for the Highlands, once this Blackrose business was handled.
It could be finished by next week.
