Page 47 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
“You let me kiss you.”
It was a strangely benign request for such a major concession. “What? Here?”
He smiled again, shaking his head. “At Charrington Manor. I get to kiss you when I want to.”
“Absolutely not. I would not put it past you to have us conveniently get caught. Besides, why would you want to kiss a woman who wants absolutely nothing to do with you?”
“You might not want to marry me, but you do enjoy kissing me, whether you admit it to me or not.”
“Fine. You can kiss me once a day at a time and place ofmychoosing. And that’s it. One kiss only.”
His gaze had settled on her mouth, setting her senses rioting in pleasant agitation. Why did he have to be the one man she desired? It wasn’t fair.
“I agree,” he said.
She nodded, feeling more in control than she had since first meeting him. “Good. Then I will come to Charrington Manor.”
Rising on her toes, she took Rothschild by his biceps and kissed his cheek. He stood still, letting her. His arms were so strong and warm under her hands that she did not let him go immediately. “Thank you. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this.”
His jaw ticked as his gaze lit on her mouth. He was undoubtedly hoping for another kind of kiss from her, but there was no way she was repeating the library incident again. That kiss had gone much further than she had intended, and she still didn’t know how it had happened. She had no faith in her ability to control another one.
“You’re so certain you’ll still reject me,” he said, his voice a soft rasp.
Shrugging out of his coat, she handed it back to him. “It’s not you I am rejecting. I simply do not wish to be married yet. Surely, you can understand that. If not for your financial situation, would you be seeking a wife now?”
“Not yet, but I would have no choice but to perform my duty and marry eventually. Do you not think you would marry eventually, as well?”
“I have years before I plan to marry. My brother is given his freedom to wait; I prefer the same. My life is full with my work for now.”
He appeared thoughtful as he shrugged back into the tailcoat before asking, “Now that we have settled things, can we please stop this pretense of flirting with every man at the ball?”
She smiled. “How do you know about that? You haven’t been here.”
“I arrived over an hour ago. Long enough to see you cavorting with Lord Smith, and Lord Hadley, and Lord Bunting, and Lord Dillingham, and—”
“That’s enough. Yes, I see your point.” She could also see that he was jealous. His eyes had gone all fierce and hooded again, just like they had in the library. It was terrible, but she very much liked when he looked at her that way. As if he could eat her up and make her enjoy every moment of it. “I will not have to flirt anymore now to make you leave off.”
“You were flirting to make me withdraw my offer?” He sounded incredulous as he gave a mirthless laugh and took a step toward her. “You were wrong. It only made me want you more.”
Self-preservation made a flicker of fear ignite within her, but it was accompanied with a healthy dose of what she was mortified to realize she could only describe as lust. She took a step back, and for some reason a laugh tumbled from her throat. “You stay away from me.” Her voice shook along with the hand she put out to ward him off. “We will not have a repeat of what happened in the library.”
“I rather liked what happened in the library.”
His voice held a bit of a soft growl, and he did not stop at all as he advanced on her. Her heart beat low and deep in her belly. How could he reduce her to this without even touching her? It didn’t make any sense. She was as needy for him as she had been after his kisses, and he hadn’t even touched her.
“You stay back. I will not be caught with you, and I do not appreciate you trying to coerce me.”
He laughed. “I only said I would withdraw my offer at the end of your stay. I never said that I would not use every tool at my disposal to get you to say yes.”
Dear Lord! What had she gotten herself into? “I am going inside. Alone.” With those words she turned and hurried inside as fast as she could in her torture slippers.
Chapter 14
Trifles make the sum of life.
Charles Dickens
Evan!”
