Page 56 of Dukes for Dessert

Sophie squeezed his hands. “I agree.”

Music swelled behind them, reminding Sophie that they stood in Eleanor’s ballroom, and that she was there to be reintroduced to society. She half-turned, ready to suggest they join the throng, when David pulled her back.

“Come with me,” he said in a low voice.

Sophie felt no qualm about abandoning the ball to follow David. He led her around a screen that concealed a door to a narrow corridor—a passage for servants. David took her through this then up two flights of deserted backstairs before he opened another door into an upper hall.

Sophie’s bedchamber lay nearby, but David towed her to a part of the house she hadn’t visited and to a well-furnished bedchamber. The bedroom did not have the sumptuousness of the chamber Sophie occupied, but it was cozy, with a four-poster bed and well-cushioned chairs, a deep rug, and a crackling fire.

“Whose room is this?” Sophie asked in surprise. “And should we be invading it?”

“It is mine, dear lady. Set aside for me long ago, when Hart and I spent many nights in this house planning to take over the world.” David gazed about in nostalgia. “Fortunately for the world, we did not succeed.”

“They keep the fire lit for you?” Sophie wandered toward it, nervous. “Very considerate, since you are not staying here.”

“I tipped the wink to the majordomo that I might spend the night. He is used to me getting roaring drunk at Hart’s gatherings and having to be carried to bed.”

Sophie made a show of looking him up and down. “You seem relatively sober.”

“I am. Stone-cold. I certainly didn’t want to come to you fluid with whisky. I’ve already done that, and seen you despise me.”

Sophie flushed. “I was very rude.” She remembered David looking up at her at her uncle’s table with his changeable eyes, and her heart constricting. She’d blurted out her tart observations to hide her confusion.

“You were astute,” David said. “I was a drunken sot. Could have saved myself much trouble that night if I hadn’t been. But then, I might not have met you.”

He joined her as she drew near the fire, taking her hands and pulling her close, his warmth competing with that of the flames.

David’s smiles were gone, the lines on his face deepening as he gazed down at her. Firelight touched his dark hair and softened his hard-edged eyes.

Sophie rose on tiptoes to kiss the side of his mouth.

David made a raw noise in his throat. He released her hands to cup her face, drawing her up to him for a fierce kiss. His mouth moved on hers, hot, needing, and Sophie kissed him back with as much hunger.

David pulled away, eyes haunted. “Staying away from you has been hell, but I can’t make myself keep from you any longer. If you want to run from me …” He stepped back, the movement rigid. “I won’t impede you. The door is unlocked, the way open. Go, and save your virtue from the likes of David Fleming.”

Sophie studied him for a long time. David breathed hard, chest rising sharply, a pain in his eyes she felt in her own heart.

She moved from him and crossed the room. She heard David’s sigh of resignation, almost a groan, before she quietly turned the key in the lock.

“Sophie.” He gazed at her in such anguish it stabbed at her, but the hope behind his pain was even more anguished.

Sophie went to him. She closed her hands around the lapels of his coat, pulled him down to her, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

17

David’s world changed. Sophie Tierney was in his arms, the scent of her light perfume filling him. Her gown bared her arms and back, her skin smooth under his callused hands.

Her mouth was a place of heat, like light brushing into him and freeing his dark heart. He pulled her closer, his body hard with wanting, drinking in the delight of her.

Her expression as she’d turned from the door had shattered him. She’d locked them in, coming to him willingly, to give him the gift of herself.

Thank all that was holy David had persuaded the majordomo have a fire laid. It warmed them now as they sought each other, the flickering light turning Sophie’s dark hair to glistening silk.

David skimmed his hands down her back, finding the hooks that kept her bodice in place. He eased them apart as he continued the kiss, expecting at any moment she’d pull away from him and flee. Well, he’d left the way to the door clear.

Sophie broke the kiss but she made no move to run. She pushed his coat down his arms with impatience, at the same time her bodice fell in a wash of crumpled silk.

David’s heart sped as he let his coat drop to the floor. Beneath the bodice was Sophie’s corset, a small one to fit under the breath of a bodice.

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