It was a slow, incredibly sinful, and highly deliberate gesture. He did it while looking right into her eyes, making sure she saw exactly how much he enjoyed the taste of her. He smiled. It was a wicked, deeply arrogant smile that made Delaney's knees buckle once more.
Rowan turned his head slightly toward the wooden door.
His voice changed immediately. The husky, desperate tone vanished. When he spoke, he sounded perfectly composed, incredibly authoritative, and exactly like the unbothered Duke of Ford.
"You may leave, Henderson," Rowan called out clearly through the door.
"But Your Grace, your clean shirt..." Henderson started.
"I handle it myself," Rowan interrupted smoothly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I am eating right now, and I do not want any interruption. Leave the clothes with Simmons and go to the kitchens. Do not return until I ring the bell."
