He shook his head. “But I know someone who can fashion one.” In fact, he knew several people. “Is there a design you would recommend?”
She nodded. “I would like to experiment, of course, but I think something like this…” She began to sketch, sliding around the table to his side as she worked.
“We should talk to the man who will fashion it,” he said. “He may have suggestions.”
She agreed just before she brought up another concern and another, each one well-reasoned. He realized, to his shock, that he should have discussed these things with her earlier before running pell-mell into creating gowns for her. He wasn’t used to having someone as detail-oriented as he was. In truth, she was more so and that surprised him. In his experience, no one thought through ideas thoroughly. It was the primary reason he was able to find good investments over bad ones. But he had been so caught up in enthusiasm, he hadn’t even checked to see if she knew more than he did.
And that was an embarrassing error.
He let his appreciation show in the warmth of his voice. “You have been thinking a great deal about this,” he said. “And not just grand imaginings, but the finer details. I am impressed.”
“Did you think me incapable?”
“No,” he said. “Unwilling, perhaps.”
She pulled back as if insulted. “If we are to make this venture successful, then we must see to even the finest detail.”
“I agree.”
“And in my experience—”
“No one looks closely enough or thinks thoroughly enough.”
She bit her lip. “I meant no insult.”
“None taken.” He clasped her hands. “Lady Gwen, do you not see it? We are alike in this. Thorough, detailed, and committed to seeing a complete success of our venture.” He was so excited, he clasped her hands. She didn’t resist his touch and that made him happy enough to swing her in a circle. “I have never been more filled with hope in my entire life.”
She laughed, and the sound was sweet because she did not try to stifle it. “We have only just begun. There are so many more—”
“Hush,” he said. “We must enjoy the moment we have.” And so saying, he drew in her in for a kiss. It wasn’t a seductive kiss. Nothing so planned. It was an expression of joy because he had finally found someone who thought as quickly and as thoroughly as he did. Because she knew things he did not, and together, they could make a fortune.
But mostly it was because she was beautiful, and he was happy. He pressed his lips to hers. He tasted the tea that she’d been drinking, and smelled a flowery scent he couldn’t identity. He felt the grip of her fingers in his, and the weight of her body as he drew it close.
Then he kissed her because that is what a man does with a woman who is smiling at him.
He felt her surprise. But he also felt the moment she gave into curiosity. She opened her mouth to him, she angled her head, and she teased him with her tongue.
Heat shot straight to his groin. His heart sped up and his mind was lost under the sudden need to deepen the kiss, to draw her harder against him, and to touch her in ways that weren’t in the least bit appropriate. And yet at that moment, he didn’t care. Not until he heard her maid cry out in alarm. Not until Madame Juliette poked him hard with a needle. And even then, he was dazed enough to ignore it.
It was the second stab that brought him back to reality. And the third had him shying sideways even as he drew Gwen with him as if to protect her from a demon seamstress.
Only then did he realized what he had done. He had kissed Lady Gwen! And he wanted to do it again and again, even though she was his partner in a business venture. Damnation, this was not a good thing, no matter how nicely she fit in his arms or how sweetly she was tucked against his shoulder.
Why was she tucked against his shoulder? Shouldn’t she be shoving him aside with maidenly horror?
He turned to look at her, his expression apologetic. “Lady Gwen, I should not have—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “No,” she said, her voice breathless. “You shouldn’t have, but I don’t care. I’m on the shelf, remember? I’m allowed a kiss every now and then, aren’t I?”
He gaped at her. Did she truly think she was unmarriageable? He dislodged her fingers from his mouth, though there was a burning fire beneath his skin where she’d been. And he gently set her aside. “I was overcome,” he finally said. “I beg your pardon.”
He looked around at the angry women in the room. It wasn’t just the maid and Madame Juliette. There were two other shop girls there, each with a pair of scissors clasped in their hands like daggers. Lady Gwen’s maid rushed to her side with an imperious sniff.
“I believe there has been enough work for one afternoon,” she said stiffly as she tugged her mistress further away from him.
Madame Juliette let out an equally loud huff. “I shall begin on the first dress tonight,” she said imperiously. “Bring me the flower vases as soon as they are complete.” She moved forward to grab the sketches off the table and “accidentally” shoved him further back as she went.
He didn’t blame her. He was completely in the wrong, and yet he resented the further distance from Lady Gwen who was looking flushed, beautiful, and very much not insulted at all.