Luring a Lady by Nora Roberts Page A

Thanks.”
    â€œYou’re welcome.” He looked back into her eyes. “Your headache’s gone.”
    Surprised, she touched her fingers to her temple. “Yes, yes it is.” In fact, she couldn’t remember ever feeling more relaxed. “You could make a fortune with those hands.”
    He grinned and slid them up her arms, pushing the sleeves of her jacket along so he could feel the bare flesh beneath. “It’s only a matter of knowing what to do with them, and when.” And he knew exactly how he wanted to use those hands on her. Unfortunately, the timing was wrong.
    â€œYes, well…” It was happening again, those little licks of fire in the pit of her stomach, the trembling heat along her skin. “I really am grateful, for everything. I should be going.”
    â€œYou have time yet.” His fingers glided back down her arms to link with hers. “I haven’t given you your present.”
    â€œPresent?” He was drawing her slowly to her feet. Now they were thigh to thigh, her eyes level with his mouth. It was curved and close, sending her system into overdrive.
    He had only to lean down. Inches, bare inches. Imagining it nearly drove him crazy. Not an altogether unpleasant feeling, he discovered, this anticipation, this wondering. If she offered, and only when she offered, would he take.
    â€œDon’t you like presents, milaya? ”
    His voice was like hot cream, pouring richly over her. “I…the report,” she said, remembering. “Weren’t you going to give me your report?”
    His thumbs skimmed over her wrist and felt the erratic beat ofher pulse. It was tempting, very tempting. “I can send the report. I had something else in mind.”
    â€œSomething…” Her own mind quite simply shut down.
    He laughed, so delighted with her he wanted to kiss her breathless. Instead he released her hands and walked away. She didn’t move, not an inch as he strolled over to the shelves and tossed up the drop cloth. In a moment he was back, pressing the little Cinderella into her hand.
    â€œI’d like you to have this.”
    â€œOh, but…” She tried, really tried to form a proper refusal. The words wouldn’t come.
    â€œYou don’t like?”
    â€œNo. I mean, yes, of course I like it, it’s exquisite. But why?” Her fingers were already curving possessively around it when she lifted her eyes to his. “Why would you give it to me?”
    â€œBecause she reminds me of you. She’s lovely, fragile, unsure of herself.”
    The description had Sydney’s pleasure dimming. “Most people would term her romantic.”
    â€œI’m not most. Here, as she runs away, she doesn’t believe enough.” He stroked a finger down the delicate folds of the ball gown. “She follows the rules, without question. It’s midnight, and she was in the arms of her prince, but she breaks away and runs. Because that was the rule. And she is afraid, afraid to let him see beneath the illusion to the woman.”
    â€œShe had to leave. She’d promised. Besides, she’d have been humiliated to have been caught there in rags and bare feet.”
    Tilting his head, Mikhail studied her. “Do you think he cared about her dress?”
    â€œWell, no, I don’t suppose it would have mattered to him.” Sydney let out an impatient breath as he grinned at her. It was ridiculous, standing here debating the psychology of a fairy-tale character. “In any case, it ended happily, and though I’ve nothing in common with Cinderella, the figurine’s beautiful. I’ll treasure it.”
    â€œGood. Now, I’ll walk you downstairs. You don’t want to be late for dinner with your mother.”
    â€œShe won’t be there until eight-thirty. She’s always late.” Halfway through the door, Sydney stopped. “How did you know I was meeting my