Page 36 of A Wicked Duke's Redemption
“Well,” she replied, crossing the room. “I wanted to surprise you. Mrs. Gunderson told me that you have a deep fondness for apple pie.”
There was, indeed, apple pie included with his usual tea. Leo noted the additional dishes. Violet wanted to join him for tea.
“It is,” he replied. “The cook makes an excellent one.”
Violet’s smile became mischievous. “I am certain he does. However, this pie is not his creation, but mine.”
It took him a few moments to think through the significance of that. “You made it?” he asked.
“I did,” Violet replied, placing the tray on the edge of his desk.
Leo sheepishly moved a stack of papers to create more space. When he was lost in work, he had the dreadful habit of piling papers and books everywhere and with reckless abandon.
“I did not know that you knew how to cook,” Leo said.
Violet poured his tea and placed a piece of the pie before him. As she did, her fingers brushed against his wrist. Leo inhaled sharply, the contact sending the most pleasant jolt through him. “Who did you think cooked for my family?”
Her, of course. “I suppose I had forgotten that you were not always a duchess,” he said.
Violet smiled brightly. “I shall take that as the highest compliment. May I join you?”
“Of course.”
She seated herself in the chair opposite him and carefully filled her own glass with tea. Leo studied the pie more carefully. It was golden brown and dusted with cinnamon and sugar, and with each inhale, he breathed in that sweet scent mingled with the warmth of the apples.
Violet had made thisfor him. Leo’s heart fluttered a little. It had been a long time since anyone did something just to be kind to him, especially someone who was not Mrs. Gunderson.
“Do you like it?” Violet asked, her gaze fixed upon the pie.
He dutifully took a bite. Everything inside him felt warm and light, as he tasted first the sugar and cinnamon, followed by the smoothness of syrup and the apples, softened just enough to rid them of their crisp texture. He swallowed. “That is the most wonderful pie I have ever tasted!”
Violet beamed at him. “I am glad you think so.”
“A pie-making duchess,” Leo said. “Who ever heard of such?”
“You have,” she replied.
He stared for too long at her coral lips, and that earlier ache rose within him. Leo longed to place his lips against hers, to taste the apples and cinnamon, and let his senses be consumed by the rose oil in her hair and the warmth of her breath against his face.
He imagined her standing and throwing herself forward, clinging to him with frantic hands. Leo swallowed hard and tried to ignore the tightness of his trousers. It was fortunate that he was seated behind his desk.
She quietly ate her pie, and he ate his. Violet wore a pink gown trimmed with delicate, white lace the spilled over her arms and about her waist. Leo tried not to let his gaze linger improperly on the tops of her breasts revealed by the low bodice. This might be a good moment for him to ask the consummation question. She was happy, and he was happy. They were alone.
Another knock at the door shattered his thoughts. “Come in!” he called reluctantly.
The maid curtsied to him. She was a thin, dark-haired young woman named Kitty. “Your Grace, Lady Priscilla has come to visit.”
“Send her in at once,” Leo said.
The maid bobbed her head and left. Violet straightened in her chair and looked at the tray. “We must have tea sent for her.”
“I will see it done,” Leo replied.
He had not seen Lady Priscilla in years, and under ordinary circumstances, her unexpected presence would be delightful. However, he could not help but feel a sharp spark of disappointment now. He was enjoying his time alone with Violet. If only it could have continued!
Violet smoothed her skirt, and Leo’s eyes snapped down the length of her gown, lingering over her legs. The fabric hid the shape of them. “I hope she likes me,” Violet said.
“She will,” Leo replied.
