Page 36 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
His eyes seemed to be telling her something—something honest and raw. Her survival instincts told her to look away before it was too late, but he had captivated her. His eyes flicked to her lips, and without thinking, she licked them. His grip on her tightened, and she felt him press against her.
What would thetonthink of their display of affection?
She did not care.
Alexandra found herself leaning up on her tiptoes, but the sudden change of tempo jolted her out of her daydream. She heard the whispers again—young ladies not bothering being discreet.
“They said he had never looked at any other woman the way he is looking at her right now.”
“It looks like we may have to offer our congratulations in a few months.”
“Well, it’s about time! They have been married for more than a year!”
Alexandra’s cheeks flushed at the thought of what people were seeing in them. However, believing that there was a nugget of truth in what they were saying was dangerous.
“Do you hear what they are saying about us, Your Grace?” she asked softly but pointedly.
“Only when it’s true,” Oliver replied with the same mischievous grin that had become dear to her.
The way he looked at her betrayed his admiration. For her? Alexandra could not believe it, but it made her heart stutter.
Surely pretending for one night would not hurt?
“You truly think that—” she began, but he suddenly spun her into a graceful twirl, cutting her off.
Then, he gracefully pulled her back against his chest.
She was right. He was anexcellentdancer.
She felt the hand on her waist sliding even lower, again teasing the bounds of propriety. However, his eyes were gentle and fixed on her as if he were learning the planes of her face by heart.
She realized that she trusted him. For if she didn’t, she would have already pushed him away and left in a huff.
“You underestimate how well-suited we are, Duchess,” he whispered.
“I hope you will alert me when you are finally done with this amusing charade of yours. Amusement and affection are two different things, Your Grace,” she said with a conviction she could barely feel.
“You are not a source of amusement, Duchess. In fact, you aggravate me with your stubbornness,” he replied, his voice sounding almost like a groan.
Goosebumps rose all over her arms.
But then, the music ended before she could respond.
Oliver took her hand and lifted it to his lips. The kiss was gentle but languorous, and she felt the pulse in her throat quicken. She suspected everyone could tell what she was feeling, and it overwhelmed her even more.
When they stepped off the dance floor, she felt a strange wave of sadness. She wondered if that was the end of it—the ballroom acting as a stage, just like the opera house—and if this act would ever turn into reality.
Chapter Fifteen
Oliver reluctantly let go of his wife’s hand. While he loved every moment with her—dancing, mingling, and basking in the way thetonreceived them—his energy was drained.
Alexandra was right. He was more used to a certain kind of company—something darker, living on the fringes of society.
He hated any kind of pretense and hated himself for making it feel that way for his wife. He could swear there was an attraction there, too. She seemed to take him in the way he did her. But it could simply be the heat of the moment. The act. The excitement.
After the dance and the applause, he felt the anger that had blazed inside him earlier when he saw several lords watching his wife with a hunger he recognized. If the women were thrilled by the romance, some of the men thought they could have a chance with her.
The thought made him want to punch something—or someone.
