Page 36 of Five Nights with a Rakish Duke
“Very well,” she agreed with a nod. “I will play the game, but only if I can go first.”
“We are in agreement,” he acquiesced, sitting back and beckoning for her to begin.
“Actually, I’d like you to go first after all,” she said as they both reached forward to serve their food and begin their meal.
“Have you forgiven your cousin for gambling away your estates to me?” His perceptive question made her freeze in serving her food to her plate. She bit her lip, uncertain what to say. “Ah, I take it that is a no.”
“No, yes, I mean,” she paused, lifting her eyes from the serving platters to look at the Duke, “I do not know. I love my cousin, and he is the kindest man I know.”
“That is a compliment indeed,” the Duke said. “What it must feel like to be the kindest man you know.” He looked a little discomforted, staring down at his plate for a minute. Uncertain what he meant by the words, she continued on.
“I will forgive him. It was just something I had never expected him to do.”
“I understand. It is your turn,” he said, gesturing to her as he served his own food.
“How many women have you invited back here?”
“Ha!” He laughed and dropped his cutlery. “I should have seen that one coming.”
“But you did not?” she asked, teasing him. “Come on; how many.”
“Nowhere near as many as you think,” he replied with a devilish smile. “And let us leave it at that.”
“Many a rake would have been proud to say the number.”
“I don’t remember saying I was proud.” His tone was strangely honest. Feeling wrong-footed, she sought to change the subject.
“It is your turn to ask a question,” she said and reached to serve herself some of the roast chicken.
“Will you call me Asher from now on?” His question startled her so much that she dropped some of the chicken while serving it to her plate. He laughed at the mess she made.
“I’m sorry, I…”
“Was a little startled?” the Duke proffered the end of her sentence and went to help her clean up the mess.
“I didn’t think you were going to say that!” She gestured to him. “I cannot call you Asher.”
“Why not? It is my name, after all.”
“You are a Duke!” she said plainly.
“You say it as though it is something I am not aware of,” he said with humor. She would have laughed had she not been so surprised. She finished mopping up the mess she had made and turned her focus completely on him.
“I cannot call you by your Christian name. It is too informal.”
“Who would know except you and I?” he asked. He had a point with those words. Penelope faltered, wondering what to say in response when he leaned toward her. He placed a hand on the underside of her chair and slid it closer to him.
“Oh! You are rather insistent,” she said in false warning as he released the chair. She was sitting so close beside him that their legs were practically touching. The mere idea of feeling his thigh so close to hers made her heartbeat quicken.
“Please, call me Asher,” he said, lowering his voice and bending his head toward her. “It is only you and I here, and I do not want things to be so formal. Please?”
When he was looking at her in that way, as though the only thing that mattered in the room was her, she found her wish to refuse him falling down. She had already refused his bed and was certainly going to stick to that decision, but she couldn’t refuse such a simple request.
“As you wish.”
* * *
“Right, I have checked through the play now,” Asher said as he stepped back into the dining room, holding the book aloft. “I spent a few minutes doing so this afternoon before your arrival, and I can say absolutely that Benedict is not in love with Beatrice from the beginning.”
