you mean by that?”
“You need to work on your lying skills.”
“Not a trait I would like to become known for,” he commented. “Do you lie very often?”
“It’s almost a prerequisite for living in the city. And yes, I know when to fabricate, when to reveal and when to bluff.”
“You sound like the perfect card player.”
“Life in London is a gamble.”
“I thought it was oh-so-glamorous.”
“Those were your words, not mine.”
“You truly do enjoy it, don’t you?”
“It?” Her hands stilled, the beat of her heart was the only sound to fill her ears.
“Living in the city.”
She exhaled in a whoosh accompanied by a shaky laugh.
“What did you think I was asking you about?” Blake said, a wounded hint to his tone.
Sophia lifted her eyes to his and half shrugged.
It took a moment, but then full realization filled his eyes and he edged out of her reach. “Oh, good God, no. That I do not want to know about. Daemon is my, uh, friend of sorts. You are my... Please don’t say any more words.”
You are my... What? What was she? Their awkward truce and close proximity meant that their friendship might be back on track, but full friends? The way they used to be? Sophia wasn’t even sure that was possible. The fact that she wanted to jump into his lap each time he took his shirt off was bad news. Add to that, the fact that his smell and taste still lingered in all her senses.
She had to think of something else. Perhaps provoke him into another fight, go back to the way things were before the accident. She certainly had to see less of his naked body and find a way to keep her hands to herself. She should have told him about Daemon then and there, but it was neither the time nor the place nor any of his business.
“I thought you said you barely knew the Duke of St. Ives?” At least that’s how she remembered that conversation. She had just hit her head and had the fright of her life when the subject had been broached.
“He has stayed at the inn a time or two.”
“Why?” In the few years they’d been intimate, Daemon had never mentioned traveling to Blakiston or business with either duke, current or previous.
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know what goes on between one duke or another.”
“You could at least try to be convincing.” She chuckled. She doubted a thing happened within ten miles that Blake didn’t hear of eventually. She would have to ask Daemon about his connection to the area. He didn’t have to tell her everything, but she didn’t like surprises and coincidences ranked even lower.
“If we’re done here, I have the books to go over.”
With her head in the clouds, she’d almost forgotten he sat without his shirt. She had to stop doing it to herself. Had to stop the feast for her visual senses. Perhaps keeping busy, finding something else to do with her hands, would help.
If only there was an easy way to turn off her thoughts.
* * *
By day seven of their agreement, Sophia had the kitchen running smoother than ever with the help of Dominic’s sister, Maria. Despite what the townsfolk had previously thought of a courtesan cooking their dinner, her confrontation with the women seemed to have significantly thawed most attitudes. Offers for help flowed from all quarters of the village.
If only they didn’t flow from the Duke of Blakiston. He was an ever-present thorn in her side. Every day he’d come and every day she’d taken tea with him, chatted, exchanged niceties until her cheeks hurt from the effort of forcing smiles. She should have tried harder to discourage him, to make it plain she didn’t wish for his company, or his sly questions and barely concealed innuendo. In the back of her mind she knew she only did it because Blake hated his attention to her. The moment Blakiston stepped into the tavern, Blake turned surly, childish, angry, and for some reason, Sophia enjoyed baiting him.
She did not enjoy Blakiston. He was relatively nice, on the outside, but on the inside, there was something not quite right. She had hoped talking about Daemon and the chores constantly that he would give up on her and leave, but that never happened. She could not risk making a most powerful enemy by turning him bluntly away.
And so she found herself pouring tea, talking of the weather and wishing her gown rose all the way to her