““He leaned close. “Oh, I’d notice you, Miss Goodnight. I’d notice you. There’s no castle big enough to keep a man like me from being aware, every moment, of a woman like you. You don’t have to speak a word. I can hear the rustle of your petticoats. I can smell the scent of your skin. I can feel your heat.” Heavens. If he could sense her heat, he must feel it right now. She was hot everywhere. “I’m not Lord Archer,” he went on in that low, seductive rumble. “I’ve never read your father’s soppy stories, and you’re not some little girl to me. I’ve run my hands all over your body. And these hands have an excellent memory.””