Dark Angel (Gentlemen of the Order 4)

“Are you sure you want to walk?” He must have noticed her unsteady gait.

“I’m used to striding ahead, not promenading with a gentleman.”

“We’re in no rush,” he said. “It will take but half an hour to cover the length of Oxford Street to the Tyburn Turnpike.”

“In your ignorance, you have underestimated the lure of the game. It will take at least an hour to reach the turnpike.”

He laughed, a sound deep and heart-warming. “I fight in dank cellars to suppress morbid thoughts, Miss Sands. You think you have what it takes to keep a scoundrel entertained for an hour?”

Beatrice grinned, though feared she’d soon be floundering. “Have I ever disappointed you, sir?” Heavens, it would take more than picking the right colour ribbon to keep this man expiring from boredom.

They began their journey into uncharted territory at the confectioners. An assortment of candied fruit, lemon drops, sugared almonds and liquorice squares filled the glass jars displayed behind the handsome window.

Beatrice brought Mr D’Angelo to a halt in front of the mouth-watering selection. “Well, sir, pick what you think suits my character best, and I shall choose something for you.”

Mr D’Angelo looked highly amused as he rubbed his jaw and surveyed the delicious offerings. He studied the fancy labels, looked at her numerous times before saying, “For you, Miss Sands, I choose candied pineapple.”

She arched a brow. “I have never tried pineapple.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I believe your aunt was rather frugal. You’ve spent months in the rookeries, and I doubt Miss Trimble lives life to excess.”

Beatrice couldn’t help but grin. “But what is it about pineapple that reminds you of me? Other than the fact they look prickly.”

“There’s nothing prickly about you, Miss Sands.” He moistened his lips as if anticipating the flavour of the fruit. “Pineapples are rare. Highly coveted. The flesh tastes deliciously sweet, utterly divine. So divine, a man might gorge himself for hours.”

Lord! He took flirtatious banter to new heights, was a master at lascivious discourse.

“Wait here, and I shall purchase our selection.” A moment alone in the shop would help to cool her heated blood. “Then we shall see if I’ve chosen correctly.”

He touched her arm. “Allow me to purchase our confectionary, Miss Sands.”

“You may buy something from the next shop,” she teased. “It’s the silversmith’s, and I cannot afford their extortionate prices.”

He laughed again, but acquiesced.

She returned a minute later with a paper bag. “Now, who will go first?”

“Allow me.” He reached inside the bag and retrieved a piece of candied pineapple. “Close your eyes, Miss Sands.”

“What? Here on the street?”

“No one is paying us the slightest attention.” His rich, sensual drawl stirred the hairs at her nape. “Open your mouth.”

She shivered in anticipation, but closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Merciful heaven! The moment he ran the candied fruit over her bottom lip, her knees almost buckled.

“Bite down,” he instructed. “Hard.”

She did, tugging a small morsel with her teeth while he held the rest between his fingers. An intense fruitiness filled her mouth. Sweetness saturated her tongue.

She opened her eyes and met his amused gaze. “Hmm, you definitely made the right choice.”

“I would suggest using your handkerchief to wipe the sugar from your lips, but you strike me as a woman who hates to waste anything.”

“You’re right.” She swept her tongue over her lips without thought.