Page 27 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
Tipping his head forward so that a lock of hair threatened to drop down over his forehead, he asked, “Are you quite certain? You are flushed.”
Dear Lord, why now? Why was she only understanding at this most inopportune moment the depth of her attraction to this man? Despite the fact that both of their hands were gloved, her fingers tingled from the heat of his. She tried tohold on to her anger, but it floundered like a fish in her grasp. This is why some girls became foolish in the arms of a handsome man. She had never understood before, had in fact believed herself immune to the silliness, but now felt the urge to write letters of apology to every childhood friend who had borne the brunt of her judgment.
“I’m fine.” The words came out sharp and clipped as she tried to disguise the crisis of awareness crashing through her.
“I am not your enemy, Miss Crenshaw.”
“But neither are you my friend, Your Grace. We both know that.”
“I could be.”
“Impossible. We have opposing goals. I want to save my sister from you, and you want to marry her. Why, that almost does make us enemies.”
He released a breath on a laugh. The not-at-all-unappealing fragrance was brandy laced with peppermint, the same as when she’d kissed him at the sparring match. His lips were curved in a slight smile, reminding her of how warm and surprisingly soft they had been beneath hers. She also remembered something she had tried to make herself forget. The moist stroke of his tongue against her bottom lip right before he had pulled away, and the dismay that had rampaged through her in the immediate aftermath that she had been cheated of more.
“You are remembering that night.” His voice was low and entirely too sure of itself.
She pulled back with a gasp, and while he didn’t resist her, his calm hand on her back kept her from making a scene. “I didn’t... I only thought...”
“Would it help if I admit that I think of it as well?” His eyes were not mocking but gently solemn and filled with longing as they slipped down to her mouth and back again.
A whole flock of butterflies took flight in her belly. “This is not appropriate conversation for a dance.” Despite her best intentions, she could not look away from him. Something in his face held her transfixed.
His hand flexed at her back. She shouldn’t have been so aware of it, given the layers of fabric and boning of herclothing, but she could feel the press of each finger. “I think of it far more often than I ought to admit,” he said.
Before she could stop herself, her gaze flicked back to his lips. Would kissing him again feel as interesting as it had the first time? What was wrong with her? He was a fortune-hunting duke intent on marrying her sister. There was no way he thought of that kiss. If he did, it was purely for reasons of using it to blackmail her.
“You need not think you can hold that over me. I told my parents about that night.” There. He was for vanquishing, not for kissing.
“Did you?”
She gave a single proud nod as he led her into another turn. “Yes, they know about you and your pugilistic tendencies.”
He laughed again. This one a deep laugh that started down in his chest and garnered them curious looks from the couple gliding past them. “I am intrigued. What was their reaction to that bit of gossip?”
She tried to scoff, but it was difficult with the smile she had plastered on her face. It would hardly do to feed the gossip mill by arguing with him in front of the entire ball, no matter how much she might want to. The music called for a twirl, so she waited until she was back in his arms to say, “It is not gossip if it’s true, and I was a party to the situation. Do you intend to deny it happened?” He smelled pleasantly of citrus and bergamot as he had that night in the garden.
“Very well. What was their response to that bit of news?”
“That hardly matters.” She was not going to admit to him that they did not care one whit if their potential son-in-law brawled for money. His smile told her that he knew. Damn him.
“I am going to guess that you did not mention our kiss.” He said it loud enough that anyone dancing by them could have heard.
“Shh... We hardly need to share that. It was once and ill-advised at that.” Her face flamed at the memory, so much so that she could not bring herself to see if any of the couples around them had heard.
“I do not think it was ill-advised at all.” His voice lowered a hair.
“Stop talking about it.” She spoke through clenched teeth because it was the only way to keep her temper in check. Had he lured her into this dance to make a fool of her? Was this his way of keeping her unbalanced so that she would not intervene when he went for Violet tonight?
“All right,” he said easily. Too easily. “I will not mention it anymore during our waltz. You have my word.”
Since he was being agreeable, she decided now was the time to appeal to him. “Please reconsider your plan for tonight. Or at least postpone it.”
“What do you believe my plan to be, Miss Crenshaw?” The area between his brows furrowed attractively. For heaven’s sake, did every expression the man made have to be so attractive? It wasn’t fair.
“I think you plan to let your intentions for her be known tonight. I would like for you to wait, at least until we can talk more.”
He did not smile or put her off in any way as she had expected. Instead, he became thoughtful as the dance continued. His eyes deepened somehow, the pupils expanding ever so slightly as he led her into another twirl. When she came out of it, he pulled her into his arms again, and his pleasing scent washed over her. He made her want to step closer into the circle of his arms, to savor his warmth.
