She had forgotten how to breathe. He was leaning in, and his hand was inches from her cheek. In another second he would… he would…
He would reach past her face and pluck something from the shelf behind her, then step back, smirking. He held up a kid leather pouch. “And here it is.” He bounced it in his palm, testing its weight. “About the right heft for a few amulets.”
He turned toward the desk and began picking at the knot in the drawstring. Caro struggled to school her features. Just when she had felt herself softening toward him because of his help with Lord Lansdowne, he turned around and reminded her what kind of man he really was. He had never meant to kiss her, not when he handed her down from his phaeton, not last night on the bench, and not tonight, either.
This was all a joke
