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for approval! She’d never been arrogant about her looks or personality, so why was she fretting over her attributes? Why should his opinion matter in the slightest?
    “We meet again. Miss Drake,” he said.
    “Yes, we do, Lord Stanton.”
    His torrid gaze was locked to hers; then slowly, it descended to her mouth, lingering there, leaving her with the distinct impression that he was considering kissing her. Which was preposterous.
    As a female—with no family and no prospects—she’dnever so much as had a gentleman caller, and as far as she was aware, she’d never driven any man to ponder such an intimacy.
    What would it be like to be kissed by him? It would probably be splendid, would probably be something she’d like to try more than once, and the notion scared her to death.
    She hadn’t spent much time daydreaming about amorous affairs. She wasn’t even certain how one went about kissing, and the thought that he might instigate such a deed, that she might be anxious for it to occur, had her flummoxed.
    She was twenty-eight years old. How could she have failed to appreciate that she was so desperate for male notice? What was special about Stanton that he had her mulling such conduct?
    He frowned, as if deciphering a difficult mathematical equation. “I can’t figure you out.”
    “What would you like to know?”
    “Where do you come by the impudence to harass me?”
    “I guess I’m just brimming with daring.”
    “Are you?”
    “I’m not afraid of you.”
    “You should be.”
    “An idle threat, Lord Stanton.”
    He leaned closer, his torso connecting with hers, their tummies and thighs melded, their feet tangled. She could perceive his heat, could smell the starch in his shirt, and the soap with which he’d bathed.
    He had her off balance, and she was falling back. She steadied herself by grabbing the lapels of his coat.
    He was trying to bully her, with his authority and position, but there was nothing he could do to her thathadn’t already been done, and the realization made her feel free and reckless.
    “You’re very brave,” he stated, “and very conceited.”
    “Conceited? I am not.”
    “You presume you’re smarter than everyone else, that your view is the sole one that’s valid.”
    “I won’t apologize for being correct.”
    He snorted with derision and eased her down. She was stretched out on the table, and he was hovered over her. She couldn’t deduce how she’d landed in such a shocking situation, or why she’d allowed him to wrangle her into it.
    More surprisingly, she had no wish to wrestle away. Her mind was screaming for her to fight and flee, but her body declined to obey any commands. It was delighted to remain right where it was, as if comprehending that whatever was about to transpire was something she needed very much.
    He came closer still, his lips mere inches from her own, his warm breath flowing across her cheek. Somehow, he’d wedged himself between her legs. Her thighs welcomed the outrageous placement and spread of their own accord, so that he could step in and touch his loins to her private parts.
    The contact was exhilarating, her womb seeming to shift and stir, her nipples throbbing with each beat of her heart, and she grappled with an ancient yearning she didn’t understand. She attempted to pull her legs together, to force him away, but he was lodged tight, and her struggles were futile.
    “You’re so determined to keep me from philandering,” he said.
    “Well, you can’t behave yourself, so I’m simply encouraging you to remember what’s at stake.”
    “That being?”
    “Rebecca’s happiness.”
    “You’re so concerned about her.”
    “She’s my friend.”
    “And your employer,” he mentioned. “Your loyalty is a tad excessive.”
    “Only someone of your low standards would believe so.”
    “Do you know what I think?” He looked like a cat about to swallow the canary.
    She gulped. “No, what?”
    “You’re lonely.”
    “Hah! My