Pinch of Naughty Read Online Free

and a woman of experience. Interest tickled inside him. “How old are you, Mrs. Lacey?”
    Her gaze shifted to his nose. That didn’t surprise him. He was proud of its prominence. He looked down its length and intercepted her glance, releasing her chin to grasp her shoulders.
    He watched her gaze trail lower, stopping on the tuft of hair showing where his shirt opened at the neck. She seemed mesmerized.
    “Your age, Mrs. Lacey?” He wondered how long it would take her to answer. Twin splashes of red marked her cheekbones as the simple question seemed to stymie her.
    “Mrs. Lacey, tell me your age right now.” Damned if a female couldn’t turn a straightforward question into a goddamned tussle for control. And the sparring only incited his lust. His cock was at full sail and one taste of her had made him want more.
    Wonder if her lower curls are as soft as the hair on her head. He thought of the silk scarves stored in his closet and imagined Mrs. Lacey tied to his bed, spread-eagled and squirming as he trailed feathers across her peach-colored skin.
    He studied the stray tendrils on her neck before his gaze traveled up to the hat she was righting. When she finished it was just as prim and tight as it had been when she’d arrived. The lips he’d plundered moments before were set in a grim line and a hint of tears sparkled in her eyes. Sadly he discarded ideas about feathers and fun. All he needed now was for her to start bawling and he’d haul her back to town himself.

Chapter Two
     
    Eleanor couldn’t think with Mr. Burke glowering down at her. The truth was, she was fuddled from his kiss. She stammered her answer, bending backward to avoid the nose hovering above hers. “What difference does it make?”
    When he remained aggressively close, she said hurriedly, “I am twenty-nine.”
    He stepped away and Eleanor forced her eyes up from the tanned skin on his neck to meet his wintry glance. After all that forceful intimidation, my age didn’t even matter. She could see it in his eyes. It was just a petty show of authority.
    “You satisfied with the pay?” Mr. Burke’s voice dripped sarcasm.
    Eleanor nodded her head mutely. She didn’t know how much he paid but any wage was more than the nothing currently in her reticule.
    “Mrs. Lacey, if I let you play at housekeeper for two weeks, slinging hash, scrubbing floors and tending my needs, I don’t want any whining about the requirements.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Burke, I appreciate the opportunity,” she said sedately. Aware of the sly gleam in his eye, she tensed, waiting for another sneak attack. He’d already proven himself to be unpredictable and erratic.
    “You can audition today. Finish those dishes for a start.”
    “Uh…of course,” she stuttered. “I-I’ll do that right now. From the appearance of your kitchen, I’ve arrived none too soon.” Eleanor almost slithered to the floor in a puddle of relief.
    She hesitated and then asked, “I have everything I need with me in my satchel. Shall I select a bedroom to use?”
    “Suit yourself,” he drawled, stepping close again and peering into her eyes. “You have a first name, or am I supposed to keep calling you Mrs. Lacey when we fuck?”
    She was shocked scarlet by his crude words. He’s attempting to scare me away again. Refusing to be baited, she replied primly, “My name is Eleanor. I’ll call you Mr. Burke, as any good domestic would.” She folded her hands, pretending servile humility, refusing to allow him the pleasure of flustering her more.
    He made a noise Eleanor could describe only as a growl and headed for the back door. Before he exited, he picked up his hat and said grimly, “Guess you can figure out what needs done.”
    Relieved that they had finalized the difficult interview, she offered him her hand. He ignored it, giving her orders all the way out the door.
    “Have supper ready at sundown. This place is a mess, so get busy on that too. There’s a pile of