Page 104 of Dukes for Dessert

Normally, she’d be filled with a joyful anticipation at the prospect of working with a new young lady. This time, however, she felt a slight unease, as if she was forgetting something. Not forgetting—ignoring.

She was apparently doing her damnedest to pretend Dare didn’t exist. Or that the smoldering attraction between them had petered out. Only it hadn’t. Not for her anyway. She had no idea if he felt the same, especially since he’d left the drawing room without a word.

Rising from her dressing table, she flipped her long braid over her shoulder as she made her way to the bed, which a maid had turned down invitingly. Juno stared at the empty space and wished she wouldn’t be sliding into it alone.

Not in the six years since Bernard’s death would she have described herself as lonely. Yet tonight, she felt that emotion quite keenly.

Oh, hell.

She wished she hadn’t dismissed Cecilia’s matchmaking efforts so hastily. She did want Dare. For tonight, at least.

Pouting, she altered her direction and went toward the dressing chamber. She stopped short, gasping as a large figure appeared before her.

“Dare!”

“Forgive me for barging in. It was the best way to reach you, I’m afraid.”

She took in his banyan, dark black silk against his black pantaloons. “You look like a man on his way to an assignation.”

He glanced down at his costume and gave her a fleeting smile. “I suppose I do. But then I am.” His gaze met hers. “Hopefully.”

Juno hesitated. He was behaving rather presumptuously. But was he really, given her behavior in the coach? She’d certainly given him the impression she wanted him. And anyway, didn’t she?

She narrowed her eyes. “How did you find your way here?”

“Luck?” He was clearly lying and realized she knew it. Exhaling, he said, “Lady Cosford told me how.”

Juno swore, which drew a broad grin from him. “Why are you smiling?”

“I like it when you curse.”

She swallowed a laugh. “It’s horribly crude. I shouldn’t do it. I’m afraid it was a bad habit of Bernard’s, and once I adopted it, I haven’t been able to shake it. Unless I’m in polite company, of course.” She flinched. “I didn’t mean to insinuate you aren’t polite company.”

He didn’t look insulted in the slightest. “No need to feel bad. I’m quite flattered. I hope you’ll swear in front of me often.” He smiled again, and her heart flipped over.

“You’re so handsome when you smile. Irresistible, really. It’s good that you rarely do, for every woman in England would throw herself at your feet.”

He stepped toward her until they were merely a breath apart. “I don’t want every woman in England. Just you.” His voice, always tinged with a growl, had dropped to a feral rasp.

If she hadn’t wanted him already, she definitely would now. She slid her hands up his chest and curled them around his neck. “It’s very convenient, then, that I want you too.”

He clasped her in his arms and lifted her against him as their mouths crashed together. If she hadn’t been wearing a dressing gown and night rail, she would have wrapped her legs around his hips.

Not that she would have had much time to do so, for he carried her to the bed and pushed her down on the mattress as he came over her. He pulled back, staring down at her. “Wait.” He traced his hand across her forehead, along the side of her face, across her lips, and down her chin and throat. He moved lower still, his eyes never leaving hers as he trailed his fingers between her breasts. He unfastened the clasps holding her gown together and spread the garment open.

“You’re more beautiful than I imagined.” He cupped her breast through the thin lawn of her night rail.

“You can take it off,” she whispered, need pulsing through her along with a deliciously sweet longing.

“I will. Soon.” He pinched her nipple, sending a cascade of pleasure straight to her core.

She arched up into his touch, gasping. “More. Please.”

He did as she asked, pulling on her flesh with a gentle but firm grasp. Heat flooded her. It wasn’t enough, and yet it was perfect.

She pushed up from the bed and struggled to pull her arms from the dressing gown. He helped strip it away, leaving her in just her night rail, which seemed an offensive barrier at the moment.

“Patience, darling,” he admonished, pushing her back down.

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