Page 9 of A Game with the Rakish Duke
Hastily, she pushed the Duke away. Her breathing was heavy and labored, and she noticed that he was having a hard time catching his breath as well. He stared at her hungrily.
“Why did you do that?” he breathed.
“It was enough,” she whispered.
She had liked that kiss. A little too much. Really, she must be careful to protect herself. He was a known rake, and she knewwhat rakes were like. She should never be lured in by one. Her late mother had found that out the hard way.
“I should warn you there will be no love or romance in our marriage,” he stated in a husky voice. “Even if I have kissed you this evening.”
Strangely, Catherine felt a stab of dismay, even though she had just pushed him away and wanted to avoid love and romance like the plague.
“Of course,” she replied in an irritated voice. “We just spoke about the fact that this will be a marriage of convenience.” She looked him straight in the eye. “I do not have such childish notions about marriage.”
He laughed, looking relieved. “Neither do I, Miss Audley, I can assure you.” He hesitated. “I will call on your brother tomorrow to complete the arrangements for the betrothal.”
Catherine felt a jolt of fear in the pit of her belly.
This is serious. It is not a joke. We truly are going to get married.
“Perfect,” she replied, her heart still pounding. She hesitated, gazing at him. “When you call on my brother, please do not tell him that you will be paying off his debt. I want him to think that I have won all the money needed. He is a proud man, Your Grace. He would never accept it if he thought it came from you.”
He looked amused. “I do so promise.” His gaze lingered on her face. “Your brother will believe that I wish to marry you for you alone, Miss Audley.”
Their eyes met and locked. The spark between them, which had just flared into a bright flame, kindled again. To her surprise, Catherine wished for a moment that what he had just told her was true, which was highly disconcerting.
“I must go,” she said abruptly, her heart skipping a beat. “My brother is waiting for me.”
He took her hand, bending low over it and kissing it. “Until tomorrow.”
She pulled her hand away before running off, clutching her bag full of the winnings tightly to her chest. Her heart was pounding so hard now that it sounded like a drum in her ears. She couldn’t believe what had happened.
“What took you so long?” Oliver hissed when she finally fell into the carriage, breathless. “I was just about to send out a search party!”
“I am sorry,” she said, giggling. The absurdity of it all was making her a bit giddy. “It took me longer than I expected.”
Oliver’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
Triumphantly, she held up the bag, grinning. “I did it!” she cried, swinging the bag. “I won enough to take care of theentiredebt, Oliver.”
Her heart almost stopped when she saw the look on his face. He was so relieved and joyous that tears suddenly sprung to his eyes.
“Oh, you are amazing, Cathy,” he breathed. “I am the luckiest chap in theworldto have you as my sister.” He hesitated. “Thank you. I will make it up to you…”
“Do not be silly,” she whispered fiercely, struggling to contain her emotions. “We are in this life together. It has always just been the two of us. Remember?”
“Always,” he said slowly, his face twisting. “Dear Cathy.”
The carriage jolted forward. They were leaving. Catherine gazed out the window, overcome with emotion, trying to make sense of the strange evening. Her head was spinning.
She knew she had done the right thing by telling Oliver that she had won all the money to pay off the debt. He didn’t need to know that the Duke of Newden would be settling the rest of it.
It was odd—even though Oliver was older than her by six years, she had always felt as if she were the eldest. She had always been the fearless one, the braver of the two siblings, the onewho would climb to the highest branch of the tree while Oliver languished at the bottom, hesitant and scared.
Catherine had led. He had followed. But by virtue of sex and age, he was the one who had inherited everything. She knew, in her heart, that the family fortune would never have been squandered in such a way if she had been the son and heir. If she had inherited the title of Viscount Whitley.
But none of that mattered now. She had fixed everything… and Oliver didn’t need to know how she had done it. Not now, not ever.
Her fingers strayed to her lips. They still felt scorched from that kiss. Her stomach flipped just thinking about the Duke and their strange, charged encounter which had unbelievably led to a proposal of marriage.
