‘That could also be arranged,’ he drawled.
Roxy quickly put the glass down. ‘You mean like an official guided tour?’
‘If you like.’ His mouth hardened as he caught the glint of sensuality in her smile. ‘The only thing is that I’m afraid I don’t have a uniform.’
‘That’s a shame.’ She looked at him, knowing that this was highly unprofessional behaviour on both their parts and yet somehow unable to stop herself. Because she was fast discovering that flirting was a bit like riding a bicycle and that you never forgot how to do it, no matter how long it had been. ‘I like a man in uniform.’
Her voice dipped suggestively and he very nearly caught her to him then. Only the thought that someone might come in stopped him and he cursed the sudden jerk of an erection. ‘On second thoughts, the uniform might have to wait,’ he said unevenly, wondering whether the hardening at his groin in the unforgiving jodhpurs was as noticeable to her as it was to him. He pointed to her polishing cloth. ‘Leave that and come with me.’
‘Vanessa told me to finish it.’
‘I’ll deal with Vanessa. You can finish it later. Don’t you know that the Duke’s desires outweigh all other considerations, Roxanne?’
He said it as if he were joking, but Roxy didn’t think he was joking. Suddenly, there was a very different tension about him and the glint in his eyes hinted at the very real possibility of pleasure. Roxy wondered if she was getting out of her depth and how he’d react if she told him that she answered to the housekeeper and not to him. But she said no such thing. She just put her cloth down and began to follow him from the room, her heart thumping like crazy.
‘First,’ he said as they walked through to an enormous room which led off the great hall, ‘we have what is known as the Grand Saloon.’
Roxy followed him into the massive space which was decorated in dark crimson and gilded with gold-leaf. ‘Well, nobody could accuse it of not living up to its name,’ she said. Lightly, she touched the arm of a chair covered in rich, embossed velvet, her fingertips sinking into the soft pile. ‘This is beautiful velvet.’
‘It comes from Genoa,’ he said.
‘Where else?’ she murmured as she wandered around the room,
wondering how long it had taken to build a place like this or to furnish it so beautifully.
‘Come and see the Drawing Room now. You’ll find that’s a much more accessible size.’
‘I think we might have differing ideas on accessibility, Titus.’
As they moved from the Saloon Titus cursed himself for using such a provocative word. One which was making him think of the body beneath the garish pink overall she was wearing. Even the bizarre realisation that she shouldn’t really be using his Christian name during working hours was driven clean from his mind by the hot clamour of sexual urgency. ‘You might be right,’ he said thickly.
After she had admired the slightly smaller Drawing Room, he took her into the Picture Gallery, where sumptuous paintings hung in rows along the wood-panelled walls. This was one room she hadn’t yet been allowed to work in—she knew that some of the works were priceless and Vanessa had got her on some kind of probationary period to see if she could be trusted. It was as impressive as any government art gallery she’d ever visited and for a moment Roxanne was so overcome by the beauty of the paintings that she said nothing.
She knew that he was watching her as they walked slowly along the row of pictures and she liked him watching her, even though it was making her breasts tingle with excitement. She stopped in front of a painting of a naked woman who was brushing her hair, and gave a little sigh.
‘You like that one?’ he questioned idly.
‘It’s my favourite. It’s gorgeous. She looks so fleshy and so real—you almost feel you could reach out and pinch her. Though obviously, I’m not going to do that,’ she added hastily.
He gave a faint smile. ‘Obviously.’
They moved along to the next painting but by now Roxy was beginning to feel uncomfortable—as if the silence which was building between them was somehow becoming dangerous. That if she didn’t break it soon, she might blurt out something completely inappropriate—like would he please just kiss her. Maybe she should seek refuge in a bit of small talk. He must be good at that.
She cleared her throat. ‘So what exactly does a Duke do all day?’
‘No ideas?’ he questioned as he watched her peer at a huge canvas of a battle scene.
‘Some.’ Roxy straightened up to look at him, thinking that his face was infinitely more pleasurable than looking at a load of men wielding swords. ‘I know you start the day by going out for a ride, because I’ve heard the grooms grumbling that you’re usually up at the crack of dawn.’
‘They sometimes grumble to me, as well,’ he conceded.
‘And then someone serves you breakfast. I know that because I’ve seen the cook fussing over your poached eggs and saying that “His Grace likes his toast just so”.’
Her mimicry was so uncannily accurate that Titus had to bite back a reluctant smile, for fear that he might be encouraging some sort of domestic insubordination. ‘And after breakfast?’
Roxy was momentarily distracted by eyes which were as brooding as a gathering storm and wondered if he had any idea how fast her heart was beating. ‘You disappear into your study for most of the morning.’
‘And what do you think I do there?’ he questioned.