Page 29 of The Duke's Pet

“Jemima.”

“It suits you.”

“It does?”

“Yes.” He stepped closer and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s a pretty name for a pretty woman.”

He thinks I’m pretty?

A delicious glow seemed to light her up from the inside. This strange, handsome man who she’d spent the day with had her emotions pinging around. She didn’t think she’d like him, but she had to admit, she kind of did. She shouldn’t like him—he’d spanked her, stripped her, humiliated her, and threatened her with more punishments should she step out of line, but she did. And now... now he thought she was pretty.

The door opened and Mrs. Cook came in. “Dinner is served.”

Chapter Seven

“Ah, good. Please, sit,” the duke said to Jemima.

He pulled out a chair for her, the way a real gentleman did, and she sat.

Mrs. Cook placed a tray on the end of the table.

“I’ll take it from here, Mrs. Cook,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Yes, Your Lordship.” She did a little bow then backed out of the room.

When she’d gone, he leaned closer to Jemima. “Last month I got a scoop of stew in my lap. I’ve taken to serving myself.”

She giggled. “Oh, dear.”

“You think that’s funny?”

“A little.” She glanced at his groin. “Unless it burned you of course, because that wouldn’t be funny.”

“No, it didn’t burn.” He smiled and tapped the end of her nose.

She guessed it still had the black paint on the end, and was glad Mrs. Cook couldn’t see her painted face when she’d been in the room.

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