you scoundrel!” She lunged for it, but Mr. Decker was too quick.
He held it in the air, high above Jo’s head, using his massive height to his advantage. It was hardly the first time in her life she had been dismayed by her petite stature, but the humiliation of the moment rendered this particular scene worse.
“I will return your hat if you answer my question.” He raised a dark brow. “I could not see your eyes with this blasted contraption on your head.”
“My hat is the height of fashion.” Jo lost her composure and jumped, trying to rescue it from his grasp.
But her attempt failed.
And Mr. Decker laughed at her efforts, blast him.
“Does it truly require this much plumage?” He shook the hat, dangling it over her head, taunting. “Or a brim so pronounced in the front? It shades half your face, darling.”
First bijou, now darling. She hated him. Well, she wanted to hate him. And she also wanted him to return her hat and her list. But in truth, the way he uttered terms of endearment in his low, inviting baritone had an effect upon her despite her every inclination to remain as impervious to this man as possible.
And judging from the smile on his lips, he knew it, the rogue.
“The next time I choose a hat, I will endeavor to ask your opinion, Mr. Decker, and do not, I pray, call me your darling.” She attempted to inflect acid into her voice and was nettled to realize she sounded breathless.
Affected.
Because she was. Because being in such proximity to Mr. Elijah Decker made her feel things she had no wish to feel. He was entirely unsuitable in every way. From the moment she had first met him—Mr. Decker was a close acquaintance of her friend Callie’s husband, the Earl of Sinclair—she had been drawn to him. But his reputation as a lothario and his cocky, handsome mien had made her dislike him instantly.
And distrust him.
“You are a feisty little thing when you are riled, Lady Jo.” His grin deepened, revealing more of his teeth. “I like it.”
She wished his words did not make her heart pound or a strange glide of need slide through her insides like honey. But it did.
She gritted her teeth. “How nice for you. Please return my hat and my list to me, Mr. Decker.”
“I have given you my terms. Answer my question, and you shall have back your hat.”
His stare was intense, burning into hers. She could not look away. It was as if he had stripped her of every defense. Oh, she had spoken to Mr. Decker on several occasions. She had hand-delivered the pamphlet to him. She had seen him at Callie’s dinner parties and balls. Still, she had never been close enough to notice how long his lashes were. Close enough to experience the full effect of his raw, sensual magnetism.
“I was going to attempt to accomplish the items on my list,” she blurted. “That is what I was going to do with it.”
“Hmm,” he hummed. “Accomplish them, you say. How?”
She flushed all over once more. “In the ordinary way. By acting upon them.”
“I see.” Without relinquishing her hat, he spun on his heel and abruptly strode back to his desk, dropping her hat upon it as if it were a dead bird. “With the same gentleman, or with different gentlemen?”
She had not anticipated more questions. Jo blinked. The moment between them had been intense. But if she had expected her heart to slow and the strange heaviness in her belly to dissipate now that he was no longer near, she was wrong. The heaviness remained.
Her gaze lowered to her hat, lying on its side in forlorn fashion. Mayhap if she were fast enough…
“You can try, bijou, but I will be faster.”
Mr. Decker’s mocking voice had Jo’s eyes snapping back to his arresting face. “I told you not to call me that.”
He gave an indolent shrug. “Make me stop.”
Make him stop? She had never heard the like. Elijah Decker was maddening. Infuriating. Rude.
Irresistible.
She frowned. “You are being quite unfair, Mr. Decker. I gave you the list in err, and now I would like it back. If you have any honor at all, you will give me both it and my hat and let me go without further quarrel.”
His grin returned. “Fortunately, I have precious little honor.”
She already suspected that. “What do you want?”
“Where shall I begin?” His eyes swept over her form in a visual caress that made liquid heat rush