“Ah. I see what this is. It’s about that kiss.”

Conceited ass. “It’s about our relationship. What happened yesterday can never happen again. It was…inexcusable.”

He frowned. “I thought it was pretty damned good, myself.”

A conceited, arrogant ass. Anna smiled through her teeth. “I daresay you did. However, for purposes of our ability to work together in a professional, courteous atmosphere, we must remember our roles. I am the governess, and you, Lord Greyley, are my employer. Kisses are not permitted.”

Anthony had passed the entire carriage ride on the way there practicing a curtly worded, but beautifully adept speech voicing that exact same opinion. So he should have welcomed Anna’s attempt to draw the lines he’d so carelessly crossed. But strangely enough, he didn’t. Instead, her attempts to put him off made him want to get closer, if for no other reason than to prove that he could.

He rubbed a finger along his bottom lip, savoring the memory of that one, brief kiss. “We’re to share no kisses at all?”

“None.”

Some imp of madness urged him on. “Not even at Christmas? Under the mistletoe?”

Her back stiffened with annoyance and she said with great finality, “Not even then. Not that it matters, for I don’t plan on being at Greyley House during Christmas. If all goes well, I will be done by November, at the latest.”

He almost felt sorry for the children, facing such a determined governess as Miss Thraxton. She was an intriguing combination of certainty and challenge. Had he any manners at all, he would have let her be. But there was something about the way she stood, all prim and proper, as if she were a good deal better than he, that irked him to death.

She probably was a good deal better than he, he conceded fairly. He doubted Anna Thraxton had done anything more reprehensible in her short life than utter an occasional curse, and he’d been the cause of most of those. The truth was that the mere thought of that damnable kiss had been irritating him since yesterday.

The entire incident had caught him unawares. But there was no denying his reaction, one so strong that it lingered with him even as he went to bed last night and caused him all sorts of heated, erotic dreams, all of which featured the prim Miss Thraxton doing a number of not-so-prim activities on, and under, his naked person.

Anthony wasn’t a man used to dealing with the impossible. He also wasn’t a man given to impulses. His whole life had been dedicated to dealing with the undisciplined actions of his Elliot relatives, and in return his life and actions were focused on precision and discipline. But somehow Anna Thraxton tantalized him. Just the way she looked at him through her thickly lashed gray eyes made him want to beat her at her own game. And right now that game was seeing if she could keep him at arm’s length.