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Miss Hamilton.
Not nearly as well as you do, I m told.
I m rusty.
Why don t you play anymore?
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I haven t the time.
He heard her soft sigh. Our souls need music, Robert, as our bodies need touch. He felt her take the
brandy gently out of his hand, but he did not respond. She nudged his sprawled legs wider apart and
stepped between them, bending down to untie his cravat. He opened his eyes lazily and stared at her.
He considered protesting. Pray, what are you doing, Miss Hamilton? he asked in a tone of mild
curiosity.
Making you more comfortable.
Ah. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the peculiar sensation of her ladylike fingers plucking free the
careful knot of his starchy cravat until, a moment later, she tugged on it and slid it off of him.
She caressed his bared throat lightly then unbuttoned the top of his crisply starched white shirt.
Better? she murmured as she ran her hand slowly down his chest.
He made a sound somewhere between a grunt of assent and a groan of need. His heart was pounding
and his eyes were closed.
Laying her hand on his shoulder, she casually rounded his chair to stand behind him; he was savagely
aware of her. His whole body quivered when she ran her fingers through his hair.
Pray, what are you doing now, Miss Hamilton? he asked stiffly.
Easing your headache, my darling. Relax.
Vexed with want, he tried to obey as she petted his hair very gently. Had she no idea how she tempted
him?
Where does it hurt? she murmured. Here?
Mm, he admitted as she pressed her thumbs into two spots that pounded at the base of his skull. Her
thumbs circled in gentle insistence over his bunched neck muscles until they began to loosen by degrees.
Moments passed.
Belinda, he said gingerly at length, making his tone courteous for fear that one wrong word would
make her stop giving him this glorious pleasure, all that business at the Fleet today about Paris and your
being a finishing-school teacher was it true?
Her kneading hands paused. Robert, my dearest. Her tone was gently chiding with a hint of drollery.
What makes you think our arrangement entitles you to full disclosure of the particulars of my past?
Where my sister is concerned, your pastis my business.
Well, never fear, I did not corrupt your sister. Lady Jacinda is quite safe. Though I daresay the girl is
impetuous and I hazard to guess it is for want of a mother s guiding hand.
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I ve done my best, he said defensively.
She laughed very softly and ran her fingers through his hair. I m sure you have, darling, in all things.But
you are a man, she added in a meaningful whisper.
You are evading my question.
Very well, if you must know, I taught French, music, history, and deportment at Mrs. Hall s Academy
for a while. It was my final respectable position before this.
Hawk closed his eyes and scratched his eyebrow, reigning in his vexation. It was one matter to have a
courtesan rubbing one s shoulders, but a blasted finishing-school teacher was another affair.
Dolph contrived to have me dismissed, she continued. He came every day for a month, trying to see
me, and finally convinced the headmistress that he was my lover that I was neither respectable nor
chaste, and a bad influence on the girls. Mrs. Hall concluded I was a threat to the students, that my
conduct would endanger the moral well-being of my girls, and I was fired.
Didn t you tell her Dolph was lying?
Of course. But you know how stodgy Mrs. Hall can be, if you ve had any dealings with the woman
through Lady Jacinda. She was worried about the prestige of the school, but I didn t want any taint to
touch my girls reputations before they had even made their debut in Society, she added. For their
sake, I gave the job up without much of a fight.
Then what did you do?
I went to Harriette and then I came to you.
Ah, he said, sensing some subtle note in her voice that warned him he had trod onto dangerous
ground.
Now, Your Grace, would you kindly hush and enjoy your massage? Or shall I stop?
He tilted his head back and smiled ruefully at her. I won t say another word.
With a subdued answering smile, she caressed his cheek, roughened by his day s beard. You re a
handsome devil, Hawkscliffe. When you re not scowling, anyway. Put your head back.
He obeyed. She caressed, kneaded, and rubbed his neck and shoulders, silent at her work. To his
surprise, her ministrations helped.
Feels good?
Mmmm.
Gradually Hawk allowed himself to drift into the pleasure of her touch. Slowly the tension began easing
from him.
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