Page 253 of Dukes for Dessert

But it did let him know that he needed to add

* * *

even though she doesn’t need me… still wants me.

* * *

to his list of requirements.

13

Carole hunched over her writing table, filling the last page in her sketchbook with yet another illustration of a fantasy life starring her and Adam. Her skill with portraying real-life people had not improved, but it took little effort to copy Adam’s simple, top-hat-wearing rectangle-man into the drawings.

The ridiculous tableau of Fashion Plate Lady and Rectangle Man somehow made her fantastical settings seem all the more real. As though it really was the two of them riding horses through the evergreens, waltzing in the castle ballroom, curled up next to each other before a winter fire.

Truth was, in just a few days, they would be nothing at all. His party was the following night. Whether tomorrow went well or badly did not signify. He had promised to stay for a month and it had already been five weeks. She was taking more than her share. Soon, it would be time to let go.

But not until after tonight.

She shoved the sketchbook back into her reticule and turned to face the looking-glass. Judith had wanted to save the prettiest gown for the night of the party. Carole didn’t want to wait to look her best until Adam’s gaze was on other women. Tonight was the last night she would have him all to herself.

Judith had draped her in her finest gown: an underdress of deep blue covered with white gauze, complete with matching puffed sleeves and French-heeled slippers. This was as close as Carole had ever come to matching the elegant illustrations in her fashion plates. Not even a hair was out of place.

With a final pinch of her cheeks to give them color, she swept out of her cottage and over to his.

His eyes widened when she walked through the door.

Not because she had vastly overdressed for an ordinary occasion. But because he’d done the same thing, too.

His snowy white cravat contrasted sharply with the black superfine coat molded to his body. His formal black breeches and emerald green silk waistcoat looked fit for a ballroom. Even his Hessians were probably champagne shined. Her heart gave a little flutter.

He gave a self-deprecating grin at her expression. “One’s last night feels like a momentous occasion.”

She matched his smile. It wasn’t his last night in Cressmouth. It was their last night alone together. Tomorrow night was the party. His opportunity to win the hearts of every other female in town. To practice for when it really mattered. A flash of jealousy stabbed through her. She tried fruitlessly to push it away. Watching him flirt with someone else was going to kill her. Watching him drive away to marry someone else…

Tomorrow, she reminded herself. There was still tonight. They could make this evening anything they pleased. Celebrate however they wished. She rose to her toes, laced her hands about his neck, and kissed him.

This was not a kiss of innocence or experimentation. She knew his mouth as well as her own. Loved the firmness of his lips, the heat of his tongue. Not for the first time, she wondered how his kisses would feel against the rest of her body. Desire unfurled at the familiar fantasy. Hours remained before they had to say goodbye.

“One more game?” she suggested. “Winner takes all.”

His dark eyes didn’t leave hers. “All of what?”

“Anything he wants,” she said softly.

He kissed her again. “I’ll get the cues.”

Instead of following him to the table, she wandered over to his reading nook. When and if Adam returned to Cressmouth, his father’s favorite books would be here waiting. Battered spines, torn pages, and all.

She pulled her sketchbook from her reticule and hesitated. This wasn’t a mere “favorite” possession. This was a piece of her soul. Fitting, she supposed.

Before she could change her mind, she opened the book to the first sketch of Fashion Plate Lady and Rectangle Man smiling and laughing in Adam’s billiard room. Her heart thumped. Quickly, she dogeared the page, bent the spine, and then shoved the volume onto the shelf where it wouldn’t be noticed for a long while.

If Adam never returned to Cressmouth, he would take this collection with him… and whenever he missed what they used to have, all he would have to do was take this book from its shelf, run his finger along the creases her hands had made, and lose himself in the eternal adventures of a world that never was, knowing she had done the very same.

She shoved her empty reticule into a hidden skirt pocket just as he finished arranging the table.

He gestured toward the beautiful table she’d once believed the finest thing on earth. “Ivory ball or black dot, madam? Lady’s choice.”

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