“I don’t want you to feel pressured.” There’s an undercurrent of concern to his voice. “In this scenario, we actually have time. There’s no buying process. Still, you say the word, and I have a short list of contractors to review your plans.”

I’m back to dumb amazement. “This is huge, Darcy. Huge,” I say emphatically. “And don’t be offering because . . .” I try to produce something a little more subtle than “because we keep leaving sex stamps on the window of your hotel room,” but nothing comes to mind.

He looks amused at my plight.

I nudge him with my knee. “You know.”

Darcy turns his attention to the table, leaning to peer under it, then braces his foot against the pedestal leg. A quick push creates another foot of space between himself and the tabletop. He reaches for me. “C’mere.”

I roll my eyes but slide onto his lap. The snug fit of my dress only allows me to straddle one of his thighs. “You’re kind of proving my point.”

He chuckles. “I can’t promise that the two are mutually exclusive. And if the idea makes you uncomfortable, we can slow down. I’d rather not slow on either front”—he squeezes my hips for emphasis—“but this is your call.”

I appreciate his assurances, and good God is this prospect exciting. But I keep a leash on my enthusiasm. “It feels . . . impulsive.”

“I’d like to refer to Friday evening as a testament to my restraint.”

“When you specifically asked that I act as your restraint?”

“Details.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ve had your work in mind for weeks now, Bennet, since I saw that article on your school’s site. If Meryton hadn’t fallen through, I’d have asked for your input on Pemberley anyway.” His lips quirk into a half smile. “Assuming we’d been restored to civil terms.”

“Only civil?” I ask, for no other reason than to voice something that isn’t the giddy acceptance of his offer currently dancing on my tongue.

“I’m glad you told me to look through the bag before I got to the firm. First, because that five-by-seven almost killed me. Finn, too. I picked him up on the way to Fitz, and he was with me when I found it. I’ve never seen anyone blush that hard.” His head falls to the seat back. He peers at me through hooded eyes. “Was that your bookmark?”

“It’s what I had,” I say, affecting the same innocent tone he took when I gave him a hard time about looking at my card.