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knowingly.
    Wonderful
, he thought. Now he’d turned on someone old enough to be his grandmother. He kept his head down to hide the heat on his face as he finished his dessert. So much for lessons.
    Still, he couldn’t resist the temptation. He stretched his leg out again, and this time his aim was true. Hilary’s eyes widened the moment hisfoot slid against her ankle. She glanced up, and he grinned at her.
    She never flinched; she just moved her leg away. Other than that one look, she did not reveal any reaction to what he was doing. It made him all the angrier, and he rubbed his foot against her leg again, riding it high on the inside of her calf.
    He knew she couldn’t move her leg any farther away without everyone discovering what he was doing. It would be interesting to see how she’d handle him this time.
    Hilary stared across the table at Devlin Kitteridge, willing herself not to betray the fury inside her. With the dining chairs nearly butted up alongside each other, she had no room to get her legs out of the way, and he knew it. The man was despicable. And if he were a few inches shorter, he’d never be able to do this to her.
    His foot slowly caressed her calf, like a leisurely kiss. A sensual heat radiated outward from the source, pulsing along her thighs. She pressed her knees more tightly together to try to rid herself of the unwanted sensation. And to keep him from going any higher.
    His foot pushed against her closed knees, attempting to force them open. She kept her gaze straight on his smirking face and let her hand drop below the tabletop. She smiled intimately at him. He smiled back. Then she ever so intimately jabbed him in the foot with her spoon.
    Devlin jumped, knocking over his parfait glass. It shattered his empty coffee cup. Too bad, Hilary thought. He needed some cooling off, and scalding-hot coffee would have done the trick.
    “Dear, dear,” she said.
    “Sorry,” he apologized, shrugging ungraciouslyto his grandmother. He then glared at Hilary. She smiled sweetly.
    Lettice reached over and righted his glass. “Dev, why don’t you take Hilary out into the garden while I have this cleaned up? Besides, the two of you must be bored to tears with our old-lady conversations.”
    Her grandson grinned evilly. “Of course.”
    Hilary repressed a jolt of fear. “It’s really cool out tonight, Lettice—”
    “Nonsense,” Lettice said, waving her hand in dismissal. “It’s August.”
    “Shall we go?” Dev asked with great aplomb as he slipped his shoe back on and stood. Cary Grant couldn’t have looked more debonair, he assured himself.
    Hilary knew she couldn’t make any fuss—not if she wanted any future catering business from these women. And these women could mean
a lot
of business for her. She never should have jabbed Devlin in the first place. It had been too risky.
He
could have made a humiliating fuss, and she could have kissed business good-bye. But she had been too angry with him to do anything but react to him.
    She pushed back her chair and stood. “Dinner was lovely, Lettice.”
    “You probably could have done it better,” Lettice said.
    Hilary smiled. “Of course.”
    The other women laughed.
    Devlin opened the French doors that led from the dining room to the back terrace. She preceded him out of the room and waited until they were across the terrace and down the steps to the garden before rounding on him.
    “Don’t ever do that again!”
    “But I had to make it look good for my grandmother,” he protested innocently, “so she would think I’m interested.”
    “You paw a woman on her first date?” she asked, astonished.
    The moon was full, and it was easy to see his frown. “You’ve got a lot to learn if you think that was ‘pawing,’ lady.”
    “And you’ve got a lot to learn if you think that wasn’t.” The man was so crude, it was unbelievable. “Look,” she added, “those women in there mean business to me—”
    “No kidding. But if you think