looked like a jungle cat, speckled by foliage, watching his prey from the shadows.
He was so tall, so evidently physical beneath those elegant clothes, but she didn’t find his size intimidating. Instead, she found it rather thrilling. He turned, resting his hip against the rail, and focused his attention on her. His gaze burned the side of her face.
“That dress is a definite improvement.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. Although you must know that it will take me some time to repay you.”
He flicked his fingers in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t expect you to. It’s a gift.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he placed his index finger over her lips and she was momentarily shocked into silence. He wasn’t wearing gloves. The sensation of skin on skin sent a shimmer of bright energy through her.
“Not a gift for you,” he said, and there was laughter in his voice. “For me. As someone who likes his guests to maintain a certain level of sartorial elegance.”
He dropped his hand, but her lips still tingled.
“So, tell me, what you were doing at Haye’s if you weren’t supplementing your income as one of her girls? I’m curious.”
Anya stiffened at the unexpected change of topic. So, they were back to that, were they? She should have known he wouldn’t let it go. He was a man who liked answers.
Would he believe her reasons for being there were entirely innocent? A perverse part of her wanted to see how he’d treat her if he thought she was a fallen woman, fair game. Would he try to proposition her again? Did she want him to?
She certainly wanted to be kissed again. The memory of it made her whole body thrum.
“I had some business there,” she murmured vaguely.
He reached out and touched the side of her neck, the faintest brush across her skin. Instant flames bloomed beneath his fingers.
“Business. Hmm.” His tone was dubious. It was clear he didn’t know what to believe. “Are you promised to another? A husband? A lover?”
Anya closed her eyes. Her body’s reaction to him was so unexpected. So strong. Princess Anastasia would never have had the chance to dally with such a charming rogue. But she was Anna Brown. Anya Ivanov. Unfettered by the restrictions of polite society. Why shouldn’t she seize the chance to experience a little passion?
“I’m promised to no one.” Her voice was almost a croak.
Some of the tension in his body relaxed, as if he was relieved by her answer.
“Then why did you say no?”
His thumb pressed lightly over the pulse in her throat, then trailed up to her jaw. He tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, the gesture as casual as if he’d done it a thousand times before. “Even if you didn’t want my money, we could have had such fun.”
“I—” Words failed her. “I … don’t have much experience … with that sort of thing.”
“Look at me.”
Anya opened her eyes and was instantly caught in his gaze. He was so close, so tempting. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been in such close proximity with anyone. She could see the black ring around his brown irises, the sinful curl of his lashes. A room full of people stood not fifty feet away, but for all intents and purposes, they were alone.
The corners of his mouth quirked upward. “That certainly explains something that was bothering me, Miss Brown.”
“It does? What?”
“Your kiss.”
“What about it?”
A teasing smile hovered at the edges of his mouth. “How can I put this? Although enthusiastic, it lacked … polish. Technique.”
Her mouth fell open, and he chuckled softly. “Now, don’t get offended, but when it comes to kissing, I’m afraid you could do with a little practice.”
What conceit! Did he critique all his partners in such a way? Anya couldn’t decide whether to be insulted or entertained. She settled for sarcasm. “And I suppose you’re an expert on the matter?”
“I’ve had some experience, yes.” His gaze dropped to her lips and a hot flush swept over her skin.
“Are you offering to be my tutor?” She’d meant to sound dry and cynical, but to her dismay, it came out breathless instead.
His gaze flashed back to hers, and she found herself drowning in the abyss of his eyes.
“Yes,” he said, utterly serious. “I am.”
Anya threw caution to the wind. She lifted her chin in haughty, regal challenge. “All right then, Mr. Wolff. Show me.”
A flare of triumph flickered across his face. He lifted his hand to cradle her nape, his