“Miss Cain—”
“Come. It’s time for dinner. You may walk me in.”
He should say something, think of the perfect sentence that would persuade Lucy Cain that he had no interest in Kate beyond business. But the idea was so ridiculous that he could think of nothing. He walked her to her seat, his mind churning. But when he took his seat next to Kate, it hardly seemed to matter anymore.
She looked at him past her lashes, and his body immediately hardened, aroused by the glow of desire on her skin.
Aidan greeted the gentleman next to him, a man who spoke French and only a few words of English. At first, he assumed that Lucy had sat Aidan next to him out of courtesy. Then he noticed that the man seated next to Kate spoke Spanish, and Kate had not a word. Polite or not, Lucy had surrounded them in a bubble of privacy.
He spoke under his breath. “You’re stunning. I’m overcome.”
“Overcome? How so?”
Aidan watched the life shimmer off her skin and fought the need to press his lips to her mouth, her chest, the little hollow in her throat. “You humble me,” he said softly.
She looked up then, looked hard into his eyes, but any response was cut off by the server’s appearance with a bottle of wine. Kate lifted her glass to her mouth.
“Try not to get sauced again,” he murmured.
“Oh, that was your fault and you know it. Such a typical male ploy.”
He raised his eyebrows high in mock surprise. “You’re on to me, Mrs. Hamilton. Drink up.”
Her laughter sounded like a purr, and he spared a glance for the rest of the table, certain they must all be caught up in this seduction. But no one seemed to notice her beauty, her spark. It was just for him.
Kate turned to attempt a few words with the gentleman to her left, and Aidan’s eyes roamed to the far end of the table. Penrose was there, at Lucy Cain’s left hand, an unexpected honor for a gentleman’s secretary.
But Penrose looked surprisingly at ease. Indeed, he sported a smile that made him look younger than Aidan had ever seen. And Miss Cain . . . Miss Cain was now very obviously flirting with Penrose. Penrose!
A remarkable evening indeed.
Penrose’s transformation distracted him for a moment, and Aidan sat back in his chair to observe Kate’s friend. Miss Cain was attractive, red-haired and glowing with good health like a milkmaid fresh from the country. He could see why Penrose was fascinated—she laughed easily and often and her eyes sparked with intelligence. Her large bosom probably contributed something too.
Still, when Penrose began to laugh with a deep chortle, Aidan frowned in shock.
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked.
“Penrose . . . He’s laughing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“He’s probably intimidated by you. But Lucy seems quite taken with him.”
“I suppose.”
“Well, you’re too young to look so disapproving.”
“Me?” he asked, laughing. “I haven’t been young in years.”
“Don’t be silly,” she scolded. “You’re still a pup.”
Perhaps he was, now that Kate was back.
The entire dinner passed in laughter and ease. Later, he remembered little of the meal, only that Kate had enjoyed the fish course but hadn’t eaten much of the heavier meat dish. He did, however, clearly remember dessert. A sweet vanilla custard that she’d licked from her spoon like a pleased kitten finishing her last drops of milk. The sight had been a teasing reminder of the many, many delights they’d never gotten around to sharing. He intended to address the omissions.
When the meal was done, he helped Kate out of her seat and saw desire in her glance. Her pupils were dilated, her eyes black instead of brown.
His own lust held in tight check, he purposefully moved away as soon as she rose. Patience would reward him. He was sure of it. But his arrogance was cut down with such suddenness that the brutality of the blow stole his breath away.
“Mr. York,” a soft voice said from the corridor behind him. “What a surprise to see you here.”