He had now removed any other options for her as well, leaving her no choice but to accept his hospitality. He had already arranged for her furniture to be “stolen,” which was the story he would give her if she mentioned again needing to sell it. Having had anything of value moved to a separate location, he could even take her to the warehouse where it was stored if necessary, to show her that what remained hadn’t been worth stealing, so wasn’t worth selling either.

And her jewels would be inaccessible for her, the key to his safe unfortunately “misplaced”—for the time being. He hadn’t locked them away yet, though, held one of the earrings in his hand now, unconsciously rubbing it along the side of his cheek. He had watched them sway in her nervousness and thump gently against her neck. They’d still been warm when he’d picked them up, her heat in them, and he’d grasped that warmth tightly in his fist on the way out the door, unwilling to let it go, when he had just forced himself to let her go.

It was such a simple plan, this seduction. How in the bloody hell did it suddenly seem so complicated? But he knew why. He hadn’t counted on the effect she had on him, hadn’t planned on being charmed by her blushes, entranced by her beauty, fascinated by her myriad emotions, nor aroused by an innocent touch and set on fire by her own desire. He was the one who had been seduced, and most thoroughly. And he wasn’t sure if he could manage to subject himself to that again, without bringing it to a natural conclusion.

He should distance himself, timewise, at least until he could get these unexpected reactions of his under control. Avoid her completely for a day or two. But there was no time for that. No more touching, then. The touching had been his own undoing. Surely he could conduct this seduction without physical contact. Work on her sympathies instead. Even resort to a bit of natural courtship of the less obvious sort. Seduce her mind first, then her body.

Satisfied with the new plan, Vincent finished off the brandy and didn’t refill his glass. And he was glad of the distraction when the knock sounded at the door now. Since it was only his secretary who ever intruded here, it wasn’t surprising to see Horace Dudley enter.

Vincent had forgotten, however, that he might need to be looking for a new secretary. A distinctly annoying thought. But just as stiff of form as he’d been last night when he marched off down that snowy street, Horace carried the promised letter of resignation in hand. Vincent didn’t give the little man a chance to present it.