Page 53 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
The valet bowed and left the room, leaving Kenneth alone with his thoughts. He took a deep breath, trying to quell the nervous energy that had settled in his chest. He made his way downstairs to the drawing room where he waited for Beatrice.
Kenneth paced near the fireplace, his thoughts racing. He was used to handling business negotiations and estate matters, but tonight felt different. There was a tension in the air that he couldn’t quite shake.
The soft rustle of fabric alerted him to her presence. He turned around, and the sight of her made his breath catch in his throat.
Beatrice stood in the doorway, her pastel blue gown hugging her curves and dipping dangerously low over her bosom. The colorof the dress brought out the rich caramel highlights in her hair which cascaded in loose waves over her shoulders. Her cheeks were a delicate pink, adding to the allure of her appearance.
“You look… stunning,” Kenneth said, his voice low and husky. “Though, I must admit, as pretty as that dress is, it makes me want to rip it off you and take you up against the wall.”
Beatrice’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Typically, I wouldn’t object to that,” she replied, her voice teasing, “but we must fulfill our social obligations and arrive to the ball on time.”
Kenneth cursed under his breath, his desire for her intensifying. “Damn these obligations,” he muttered.
With a resigned sigh, he offered her his arm, and together they made their way to the carriage.
Chapter Seventeen
“Kenneth, I believe it’s time for the first dance.” Lady Bernmere nudged her nephew with her elbow, a mischievous glint in her eyes as the music began.
The Dowager Duchess of Newden chimed in, her voice dripping with playful suggestion, “Indeed, Kenneth. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your lovely wife, would you?”
Kenneth shot his aunt a look of mild exasperation before turning to Beatrice, offering her his hand with a slight bow. “May I have this dance?”
Beatrice smiled and placed her hand in his. “I would be delighted, husband.”
As they moved to the center of the ballroom, Lady Bernmere couldn’t resist one more comment. “Remember, dear nephew, a well-executed waltz can be quite… captivating.”
The Dowager Duchess added with a wink, “And it’s said that a man who dances well is equally adept in other… endeavors.”
Beatrice felt her cheeks flush at the insinuation, but she couldn’t help but laugh softly.
Kenneth, however, scowled slightly and shook his head. “Thank you for your sage advice, Aunt Marjorie,” he said with heavy sarcasm “I’ll do my best.”
The crowd parted to give them space, and the music swelled. As the waltz began, Kenneth’s hand rested firmly on her waist, his touch sending a ripple of warmth through her.
The soft strains of the violins and the gentle hum of the cellos filled the air, creating an intoxicating melody that seemed to bind them together.
Kenneth’s breath was warm against her ear as he whispered, “You look ravishing tonight, Duchess. It’s a shame I cannot pin you against the wall and make you mine again.”
Beatrice shivered, feeling a delicious heat spread from her ears down to her neck. The scent of his cologne, warm, earthy, and something uniquely him, enveloped her, making her head spin. She could feel the firmness of his body through his clothes, his every movement controlled and precise yet brimming with barely contained desire.
“You’re making it very hard to concentrate, Duke,” she whispered back, her voice trembling slightly.
Kenneth’s lips brushed against the shell of her ear. “Good. I want you to think about nothing else but me.”
As they moved gracefully across the dance floor, Beatrice was acutely aware of every point of contact between them. His hand on her waist, the slight pressure of his fingers, the brush of his leg against hers—it all heightened her awareness, making her pulse quicken and her skin tingle.
“Do you know how much I want you right now?” Kenneth murmured, his voice low and husky. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”
Beatrice’s cheeks flushed. The memory of their night together flashed through her mind, and she bit her lip to suppress a moan. Her body responded instinctively, leaning closer to him, her fingers curling around his shoulder.
The sweet scent of roses from the nearby floral arrangements mingled with the heady scent of his cologne, creating an intoxicating blend that tickled her senses. The world outside their intimate bubble seemed to blur, the colors and sounds fading into the background as she focused solely on him.
“You’re driving me insane,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the music.
Kenneth’s grip tightened ever so slightly, a silent promise of what was to come. “Good. I want you to be as mad with desire as I am.”
The dance seemed to stretch on forever, each second charged with electric tension. Beatrice felt like her skin was on fire, every nerve ending alight with anticipation. She longed for the dance to end yet simultaneously wished it could go on forever, just to stay in this sensual, all-consuming moment with Kenneth.
