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around her ankles. Tiny, nude-colored flowers with pink centers embellished the leather. Her toenails were painted a dark blue and it looked as if the very tips of them had been dipped in multi-colored glitter.
    It was the first time he’d glimpsed her bare feet. When she’d sought him out at fifteen, they’d been slipped into a pair of cotton candy-colored pumps that slid up and down on her heels when she walked. Her sister’s, he’d thought then.
    Now, he found himself fascinated by those cute toes and imagined them pointed, running lazily up and down his bare calf.
    It’s possible he groaned, and loudly, because suddenly she looked over. One pinkie popped a bud out of her ear. “You need something?”
    Not a thing he dared utter. Shifting, he told his cock to calm down and spoke the truth. “I want to be at the yard.”
    “It’s Sunday,” her tone so patient it made him grind his back molars. “The yard you’re worried about is closed on Sundays. You said you wanted to go there when the manager was on duty.”
    All true.
    When she pushed the earbud back in and returned to her cleaning, he scowled at the clear dismissal. “What are you listening to?” he asked, raising his voice.
    She slid him a glance. “A work on the global economy.”
    An important topic that his petty chatter shouldn’t interrupt, he finished for her. Shit. It went to show how little he knew about Rose. He had no idea that she spent her leisure time boning up on intellectual subjects.
    “What did you study in college?”
    “Accounting,” she answered, without removing the earbud. “Bachelor’s and master’s.”
    He’d attempted a few courses himself and then dropped out about the same time he’d bought his first salvage yard. School hadn’t held his interest. He liked moving and doing, and he figured as a businessman he’d learned plenty outside the classroom.
    Then there was racing, which kept him—mostly—out of trouble. Women who wanted the steady, reliable sort seemed to intuitively understand that a man who speeded over dangerous desert terrain or drove around tracks in vehicles designed to break limits didn’t qualify for a place in their future dreams.
    For those who didn’t see that right away, he had a little story he told about his permanently damaged commitment capability.
    His attention was snagged by a sudden sigh. Looking up, he caught Rose staring out the window, her hand absently circling and circling and circling the sink’s enamel. Global economy had her going that pensive?
    Before she could stop him, he was at her side and had pulled a bud from one ear. He held it to his own. A cultured British voice narrated.
    The duke loosened her stays with an experienced hand, all the while exploring her neck, his mouth hot against her shivering skin. Annalise moaned, her hand drifting up to sift through his silky locks, encouraging this most passionate of expeditions.
    Rose snatched the small device from his hand and stepped away from him, glaring. “Do you mind?”
    “Not at all. It certainly sounds more interesting than some dull tome on the world’s economy.”
    “The duke invested in the East India Trading Company,” she said with a sniff.
    Payne didn’t know what the hell that meant, but he gave her points for blustering her way through the moment. Still, she looked embarrassed. Color flagged her cheeks and she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.
    For a moment he considered teasing her about passionate expeditions, but he figured that would get him the cold freeze, and the problem was…
    “I’m bored,” he admitted.
    She removed her phone from her back pocket and set it on the counter. “This matters to me why?”
    “Don’t be so thorny, Rose.” At the dramatic roll of her eyes, he grinned. “Heard that a lot?”
    “Actually, hardly ever. But you seem to bring out the worst in me.”
    “I don’t care.” Payne crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of iced tea. “I need you to