“A geology symposium.” He flicked a glance at the journal. “This is your scandalous midnight proposal. The one you trudged through the cold, wet dark to make. You’re inviting me to a geology symposium, if I leave your sister alone.” “What were you expecting me to offer? Seven nights of wicked, carnal pleasure in your bed?” She’d meant it as a joke, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he eyed her sodden frock. Minerva went lobster red beneath it. Curse it. She was forever saying the wrong thing. “I’d have found that offer more tempting,” he said. Truly? She bit her tongue to keep from saying it
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