Straightening, she scowled at her reflection. “Be careful of this man and do not underestimate him,” she whispered to the wide-eyed woman staring back at her. The plan was to make herself unforgettable to him-not the other way around. If she and Nathan were to share another kiss, she would make certain it was on her terms.

That decided, Victoria opted not to ring for Winifred, knowing that the sharp-eyed abigail would instantly note her unsettled manner and kiss-swollen lips. Instead, she simply removed her riding habit, used the basin to freshen up, then set about detangling her hair. After arranging the unruly curls into a simple Grecian knot, she donned her favorite pale blue muslin day gown. She’d just slid her feet into the matching slippers when a knock sounded on the door.

At her bid to come in, a smiling young maid entered, bearing a silver tray that she set on the cherrywood table next to the bed. An enticing aroma floated from beneath the dome-covered dishes, and Victoria’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. “It smells wonderful.”

“One of Cook’s specialties, my lady. A rich hearty stew made from an assortment of local seafood. Cook made it especially for Dr. Nathan, as it’s his favorite.”

Considering the fact that Nathan refused to eat the animals given to him as payment, it didn’t surprise her that his favorite meal was fish. After the maid withdrew, Victoria dipped her spoon in the rich mixture and sampled a bit of broth with a small chunk of flaky white fish. She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes in ecstasy. She’d never tasted anything so delicious. Two fluffy rolls accompanied her stew, and she used them to soak up the last drops of the savory meal. Clearly the sea and salt air affected her appetite, for she couldn’t recall enjoying a meal more. Indeed, she looked into the empty bowl and heaved a forlorn sigh.

Laying aside her linen napkin, she made her way to the foyer, where Langston escorted her to the library.

Victoria stood in the doorway and allowed her gaze to wander around the well-appointed room. Sunlight poured in from the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the center half of the back wall, the sparkling glass flanked by dark wood bookcases filled with leather-bound volumes. A huge desk stood in front of the windows, catching the natural light. Another full wall of bookcases soared from the floor to the twenty-foot ceiling, delighting Victoria and filling her with the urge to explore the wondrous room. The cheerful blaze burning in the grate of a huge marble fireplace occupied the opposite wall, bathing the room in gentle warmth. A blue and maroon Axminster rug covered the floor, and overstuffed chairs were placed in cozy groupings around the room. The brocade settee angled in front of the fireplace beckoned one to curl up with a favorite book. She breathed in and briefly closed her eyes at the familiar and much-loved scents of leather, aged parchment, and beeswax. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was alone. Where was Nathan?

Deciding to sit while she waited, she crossed to the fireplace. As she rounded the settee, she halted. Nathan’s mastiff, B.C., lounged on his side on the hearth rug, his body taking up the entire length, canine snores emitting from his snout. What had Nathan said B.C. stood for? Boot chewer? Behemoth Canine was more apt, if you asked her. Never in her life had she seen such a tremendous dog.

Just then the beast’s nose twitched, as if he’d caught the scent of something. His eyes blinked open, and heavens, for such a large animal, he was very fast, on his feet in seconds, staring at her-hopefully not as if she were a savory pork chop.

“Nice doggie,” Victoria murmured, taking a cautious step back. “Nice big huge doggie. Go back to sleep.”

Instead B.C. walked slowly toward her. Recalling from some distant childhood lesson that one shouldn’t run from a dog, as it encouraged them to chase you, and praying that Nathan had been correct when he’d said the beast was gentle, Victoria remained perfectly still. B.C. halted in front of her. After giving her gown a nose twitching sniff, he sat on his bottom, then lifted his massive right forepaw toward her.

Victoria blinked. “Shaking hands are you? But, er, we’ve already met.” Clearly B.C. didn’t care, because he kept his paw extended. Praying this wasn’t a precursor to chewing off her arm, she hesitantly reached out and shook his paw. The instant she released him, he stood and bumped her hip with his muzzle. Then he pushed his cool, damp nose against her wrist and licked the back of her hand with a tongue that was larger than her shoe.

She gave his head a tentative stroke then scratched behind his dark ears. This set up an immediate tail wagging that threatened to sweep an end table clear of its Staffordshire vase. “Ah, so that’s what you like,” Victoria murmured, continuing to scratch while moving around to sit on the settee in an effort to save the vase’s life. B.C. followed her, and once she was seated, her other hand joined in. With her seated and B.C. standing, they were just about on eye level with each other. She scratched vigorously, and laughed at the dog’s rapturous reaction. His tail wagged, tongue lolled, and a blissful humming sound rumbled in his throat.

“Why, you only look like a big, ferocious dog,” she scolded with a laugh, moving her ministrations down to the straight, coarse coat on B.C.‘s fawn neck. “Inside you’re just a little sweet puppy.”

B.C. grunted and moaned, as if to say, “Finally… someone who understands me!”

So engrossed was she in rubbing down the dog, she didn’t realize she was no longer alone until a familiar deep voice said, “I see you’ve made a new friend.”

Victoria turned. Nathan stood in the doorway, one shoulder casually propped against the jamb, his arms folded across his chest. He regarded her with his usual unreadable expression.

“Are you speaking to me or the dog?” Victoria asked, continuing to rub B.C., her words slightly breathless-due to her exertions, of course.

“You, but clearly the statement could apply to either of you.” He pushed off from the doorway and walked toward her. “He likes you.”

She sent him an arch look. “You needn’t sound so surprised.”

“Actually, I am.”

“Why, thank you. I can’t recall ever hearing a more delightful compliment. Truly.”

“I meant it as one. B.C. is normally more reserved with strangers.”

“Perhaps because strangers tend to be reserved with him? His size is intimidating, you know.”

“I suppose so. You realize that he’ll now want you to rub him like that every time he sees you. In fact, I’d wager that he’d give you a fortnight to stop it.”

“A fortnight?” She smiled. “And then what?”

“Oh, then he’d get very nasty and probably smother you with wet dog kisses.” He halted next to the sofa, then reached down to pat B.C.‘s back. “You like all this attention, boy?”

B.C. barked. “That means yes,” Nathan translated. His glance slid over her, and warmth that had nothing to do with her vigorous rubbing of the dog crept up her neck. “You changed your clothes. Fixed your hair.”

“I thought it best. Otherwise B.C. might have been tempted to bury me in the garden. As it was, I think my hideous hair situation scared five years from your footman’s life.”

“Not at all. Everyone looks like that after a windy day on the beach.”

She refrained from pointing out that he hadn’t looked hideous. On the contrary, he’d looked utterly masculine and devastatingly attractive. Like a tall, ruggedly handsome pirate, his dark hair windblown from the sea air. She noted that he d changed his clothes as well, donning a fresh linen shirt and midnight blue breeches. He’d again forgone a cravat, and her gaze settled on the golden tanned column of his throat. He was completely out of fashion-indeed, some circles would label his attire as scandalous. But even so, she couldn’t deny that she very much liked that tantalizing glimpse of his skin.

“Your hair wasn’t hideous, by the way.”

His voice jerked her from her rapt contemplation of his throat and her gaze flew upward to see him studying her hair. Warmth rushed through her and a shaky laugh pushed from between her lips. “You’re right. Horrifying is probably a more apt description.”

He shook his head. “No. That’s not the word I would use at all.”

She drew in an exaggerated breath. “All right, I’ve braced myself. What word would you use?”

His gaze met hers. “Exquisite.”

That single softly spoken word stunned her. Before she could even think of a reply, he gave B.C. a final firm pat then rose. Striding toward the desk, he said, “I’ve set out vellum, a pen, and ink for you.”

“Th-Thank you,” she said, keeping her attention on the dog while she struggled to regain her balance, which Nathan had so effectively shifted. “And thank you for the meal you had sent to my bedchamber.”

“Did you enjoy the stew?”

“It was delicious. I gobbled it down with embarrassing gusto.”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed with me, Victoria. Ever.”

Those huskily spoken words jerked up her gaze and their eyes met. “The sea and salt air tend to increase one’s hunger,” he said. “Personally, I admire a woman who isn’t afraid to indulge her appetite.”

Victoria suddenly wasn’t so certain they were still discussing meals. And no doubt in two days’ time she would think up some witty response. Now, however, her mind remained stubbornly blank.

“I suppose it’s too much to hope that you remember much of the letter?”

Letter? She blinked and recalled herself, clearing her throat. “Actually, since I studied it at length, I believe I’ll be able to reproduce it quite accurately.”

“Excellent. Shall we get started?”

“Of course.” After a final scratch to her new friend, Victoria rose and crossed to the desk. B.C., she noted with a smile, trotted along at her heels.

“I’ve never seen such a large desk,” she said, running her fingers over the smooth walnut surface and the polished brass fittings adorning the edge. “It actually looks like two desks joined at the front.”

“That’s precisely what it is. It’s called a partners desk and is for two people so they can work while facing each other. It’s very convenient for my father when he’s going over accounts with his steward.” He pulled out a maroon leather chair. Victoria sat and murmured her thanks as he pushed in the chair for her, all the while keenly aware of his nearness. With his one hand resting on the back of the chair and his other on the leather arm, she felt surrounded by him. She turned her head, intending to indicate she was quite well settled, and found herself staring directly at the front of his breeches, which were no more than a foot away.

Oh, my. She stared, transfixed, her avid gaze riveted on his muscular thighs and his…

Oh, my my my.

Heat whooshed through Victoria as if her gown had been set afire, and her imagination flamed out of control. Even though the Guide had described in detail that which his breeches covered, she still couldn’t quite fully picture it in her mind. And here, literally right before her very eyes, was what clearly appeared to be a perfect specimen. If only his blasted breeches didn’t thwart her view-

“Are you ready, Victoria?”

She snapped her chin up and found him watching her with a speculative look-one that left little doubt that he was fully aware she’d been ogling his… that which his breeches covered. More heat, this time from mortification, rushed into her face. “Ready?” she repeated, horrified that her voice came out in weak squeak.

“To replicate my note… unless there’s some other activity in which you’d prefer to engage?”

His tone was innocence itself, but his eyes glittered in a way that flared a scorching blush all the way to the soles of her feet.

“Replicate. Note. Right.” She grabbed the quill pen as if it were a lifeline tossed to a drowning victim and bent her head over the vellum.

He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh disguised as a cough, and she pressed her lips together to stem the tide of nervous babble that rose in her throat. Good lord, this would never do. What on earth was wrong with her? She felt as if she teetered on a slippery ledge and was about to lose her balance and plunge over the edge. Never before had she felt so utterly lacking in poise. Since she didn’t have any problem talking to other gentlemen, clearly this unusual behavior was all his fault. Well, the sooner she completed the task before her, the sooner she could depart his unsettling company.

Yet as soon as the idea entered her mind, she realized that the thought of departing his company did not in any way settle her. Rather, the prospect left her… forlorn. Good lord, she’d taken leave of her senses. She dared not voice these concerns out loud lest she be relegated to Bedlam.