“You are the only person I’ve ever met who would opine thus. Everything I said is poles apart from what is purported to be ‘romantic’.” Padraic sighed.
“Only if one considers romance and Romantic to be one and the same…I do not.” Raff snorted.
“Oh, am I dreaming?” Padraic may have been musing to himself, but Raff wasn’t about to pass up the chance to learn what he now had to know. He would be asylum bound by morn, if matters progressed apace.
“Would you be dreaming about me?” Well, really. Raff was only human.
“Now, what am I going to do with you…?” The rogue mused, lifting a forefinger to his lips in a parody of deep thought, as he drew to a halt before Padraic. The threat inherent in that phrase thrilled down the Duke’s spine, which was oh, so wrong; he should be plotting his escape or…or weaving the perfect words to ensure his prompt release. Yes, that was it.