“I beg your pardon?” she demanded stiffly.
Grif laughed at her. “Come now,” he chided her as he stepped up behind her, so close that his lips could, if he were of a mind, brush the crown of her head. “Ye canna ask me to teach ye how to seduce a man and no’ imagine it would mean the involvement of yer body, could ye…. Anna?” he whispered, and casually, softly, brushed the hair from the nape of her neck so that he could see the smooth column.
She flinched at the touch of his hand. “You…you need not be so bold,” she said, and stepped forward, walking away from him.
“Need no’ be so bold?” He laughed incredulously. “Mo chreach, Anna! Ye’ve taught me the very meaning of the word, ye have!”
Her back still to him, she lifted a delicate hand to her nape, to the place he’d just touched. “You may think me bold, sir, but you cannot truly appreciate my situation.” She dropped her hand and turned to face him. “And frankly, I don’t understand why a woman can’t ask to learn such things. It’s not as if we are taught seduction along with geography or embroidery.”
Grif snorted.
She sighed with exasperation. “Nor will I attempt to make you understand, for I fear it is beyond your capability, and we do have our sworn agreement, so if you please, might we begin?”
“Certainly,” he said, and returned to the chair, irreverently fell into it, his legs sprawled before him, and tried to conjure up something—anything—to say.
She stood there rather anxiously, watching him, waiting for some signal.
Grif lifted one brow. “Well, then?”
“Yes?”
“A woman is seductive when she tends to a man’s needs,” he blurted, and thought it not a bad start, all in all.
It certainly flustered Miss Anna Addison. She glanced around the room, perhaps looking for a footman. “Ah… what is it you need?” she asked uncertainly.
Aye, this had the potential to be quite entertaining, Grif suddenly realized. “Do ye mean to imply ye canna recognize a man’s needs, lass?” he asked, feigning shock.
She blushed and looked at her hands.
“A spot of whiskey to begin.”
She glanced around again, as if she expected the footman to magically appear, and when he did not, she moved woodenly to the sideboard, studied the decanters there, and finally selected one. Not the whiskey he might have chosen, but there would be time for that.
She looked around for a glass, rattling the crystal glassware in the process, and found a tot, and poured the whiskey to the rim. With the tot firmly in hand, she turned round and marched toward him, her expression one of consternation, as if she had never served another human being in her life. Holding the tot as far away from her as she could, she placed it on the small walnut end table directly next to Grif.
A savory thought occurred to him—while he might not know the art of seduction, he had a much keener sense for the art of retaliation. And he saw an opportunity now, a chance to punish the strumpet for ever having heaped this predicament on him.
Aye, this would be entertaining.
Grif glanced at the tot, shook his head as he made a clucking sound of disapproval, and frowned up at her.
“What?” she demanded.
“Ye think that seductive, do ye? Ye bring a man his whiskey and put it away from ye as if it were a two-headed snake?”
She blinked, looked at the tot, then at him again, delightfully confused.
“Pick it up,” he commanded her.
With a bit of hesitation and a bigger frown, she picked it up.
“Now, then,” he said with a wicked smile, “come down on yer knees before me and put it just there,” he said, nodding at the table.
Her mouth dropped open. “You cannot possibly be serious!”
Grif shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well, then. If ye donna want yer bloody English Lockhart, we might end this farce now, aye?”
At the very least, his suggestion had the desired effect of quelling her protestations. She stared at him, then the tot, then pulled a face as if it truly pained her.
“Kneel before me and put the tot there,” he softly commanded her.
Judging by the murderous way she looked at him, Anna was having a difficult time making herself obey him, and Grif could not possibly have been more amused. With her eyes glaring daggers at him, she glanced down to where his legs were sprawled before him, then looked at the table. She tried to dip before his knees, but Grif moved his legs, indicating she should kneel between them.
With a bit of sidestepping and general wrangling, she at last knelt between his knees, put the tot on the table next to him.
“Is that all, then?” he asked.
“What could possibly be left undone?” she hissed at him.
“Yer kind and thoughtful inquiry as to anything else I might require,” he suggested pleasantly.
“You’re insane,” she said through clenched teeth.
“No, lass, that would be ye. Go on, then. Inquire,” he said, his smile fading.