Turning back toward Anne, Rafe gestured toward the door. “Shall we go across the street to the coffee house?”
“Yes, but first I need a copy of that book.” She went to John. “Would you mind directing me to where I can find it?”
John moved to a display with a stack of books and plucked one from the table. “Nearly our last copy. It’s been very popular.”
“Annie made a good choice, then.” Anne took the book and then reached into her pocket, presumably for money to make the purchase.
“Consider it a gift.” Rafe ignored the elevated eyebrows of the shopkeeper.
“Thank you.” She didn’t turn away from John. Instead, she asked him a question. “You’ve known Mr. Bowles for some time?”
The confusion he’d displayed when she’d mentioned earls flashed across his features. John coughed. “Yes, Mr. Bowles.”
Rafe pressed his lips together. “Come, Mrs. D.” He clasped her elbow gently.
Anne waved at John and bid him goodbye before they left the shop. “Should I not have called you Mr. Bowles? You have too many identities.”
A laugh caught in his throat. He coughed instead. “Yes.”
“Hopefully, you will tell me all of them someday.” She gave him a warm smile as he guided her carefully across the street between the slow-moving vehicles.
Rafe would never do that—not all of them. He wanted to regain the lighthearted air they’d enjoyed before Annie had tried to steal from his shop. “Can Lord Bodyguard be the only one that counts? At least, as far as you’re concerned.”
She looked up at him as they approached the door to the coffee shop. “It will always be.”
A tremor rippled through him, and he hated that he’d told her to dress like a man. He couldn’t touch her in any way he wanted to, not even to help her into the shop.
Chapter Coffee House was more crowded than on their last visit. Still, Rafe was able to secure them a table at the back. “Tea?” he asked.
Anne took one of the two chairs at the small, round table. “Coffee, please.” She gave him a serene look and folded her hands in her lap.
He leaned down and whispered, “You’re sitting like a lady. Put one hand on your knee and spread your legs a bit.”
She blushed slightly but did as he suggested.
“And stop blushing.” The urge to press his lips against the outer edge of her ear or trail his tongue down to her earlobe was nearly overwhelming. He hurriedly took himself to the counter and ordered their coffees.
Belatedly, he realized he should have asked her why she was ordering coffee when she clearly didn’t like it. He’d been too distracted.
Shaking himself, he carried their cups back to the table and set them down. He took his seat, noting that her regular color had returned and she was doing her best not to sit like a lady. In fact, her legs were rather far apart, and goddammit if he wasn’t distracted all over again.
“Why are you drinking coffee?” he asked, sounding disgruntled because of his unbridled lust. God, was that it? Yes. Anne had tied him in knots since practically the moment they’d met. “You don’t like it.”
“Don’t I?” She arched her brow as she gave him a saucy look. Picking up the cup, she took a long sip, then sighed with contentment as she put it down. “I’ve spent the last three months learning to like it. Now, I’m afraid I can’t get through the morning without my cup of coffee.”
He stared at her. She’d learned to like it? “Why would you do that?”
“Because it reminded me of you.” She took another sip. “Just don’t ask me to like caviar, because I don’t think I can do that.”
The merriment in her eyes was intoxicating. It reminded him of a time before things had felt so heavy upon him. Before he’d lowered his defenses too much. It was a fine balance to feel just the right amount—enough to be thrilled but not so much as to become obsessed. He feared he was already on the edge. Or perhaps even past it. “I won’t. The coffee is a delightful surprise.”
She looked down at her cup as she ran her fingertip along the rim. She wore gloves, and they were too large for her hands, so he couldn’t see her femininity. He could in her face, however. The long sweep of her lashes and the plump curve of her lips declared her womanhood. It wasn’t as if he needed to see any of it, for he was all too aware of who she was and the effect she had upon him.
“I know you don’t want to talk about your past,” she said quietly. “At least not today. But will you tell me how you came to help children such as Annie?” She gave him a tentative look, and he wasn’t able to deny the earnest curiosity in her gaze.
He chose his words very particularly. For some reason, he wanted to share things with her. Perhaps because of the way she saw him, the manner in which she didn’t make assumptions but truly tried to know him. As if anyone could.
“Selina and I didn’t grow up with much,” he said slowly. “I’ve worked very hard to get where I am.”
“How?”
That was the part he wouldn’t reveal, no matter how good she made him feel or how much he thought he could trust her. Did he? Trust came hard to him, almost as hard as it did for his sister.
“I was fortunate to inherit that bookstore and a small amount of money, which I invested carefully. I will never forget how difficult it was when I was young, however.”
“After you were kidnapped from your home.” She reached across the table to touch him, but swiftly snatched her hand back. “I suppose I can’t really touch you looking the way I do.”
“No.” At the mention of his kidnapping, he stiffened.
“Well, I think it’s lovely that you help children like Annie.”
“Will you really visit her?” He sipped his coffee.
“I want to. You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Perhaps you’ll bring me,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
He shook his head. “If you are trying to entice me to continue our acquaintance—”
She leaned forward, her eyes glowing. “Is it working?”
“Yes.” The word slipped between his lips before he could stop it. He leaned slightly forward too.
“I have a room upstairs,” she said rather breathlessly.
“How on earth…” He couldn’t even finish the thought, let alone the question.
“It’s under my name, Mr. Dazzle.”
Rafe stifled a sharp laugh. “You didn’t really use that name.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I did. And now I’m going up to that room. If you would care to meet me, it’s on the second floor in the back, facing Paul’s Alley.”
“Your capability is terrifying.”
“Is it?” She arched a blonde brow as she rose. “Or is it exciting?” She waggled both brows before going to the back corridor where the stairs were located.
How in the hell had she done this? How did she know where to go? Had she come yesterday and made the arrangements? She was terrifyingly exciting.
And he had no idea what he was going to do about her.
Chapter 8