Page 27 of Would I Lie to the Duke
Lord Trask said something to the duke, and he turned his attention back to the marquess.
Jess took a sip of wine, but it did little to cool her. Having finally made her first move, introducing McGale & McGale soap to the Bazaar, the wisest thing to do would be to steer clear of the duke. She did not want him to believe she’d used targeted flirtation to secure his investment or interest in her family’s business. That would be beyond unforgivable.
Staying away from him was best.
That didn’t stop her from wishing. Wishing, and wanting.
Chapter 8
With the meal concluded, and the members of the Bazaar making their way back to the waiting carriages outside, Noel acted.
He strode to Lady Whitfield, standing on her own as she adjusted her shawl in preparation for going outside.
She looked up at him, short curled lashes framing golden, perceptive eyes. Her ripe, sweet scent teased him. The whole of the day had been an exercise in delicious anticipation, and being this close to her, his body tightened in expectancy of more. More of her incisive intelligence, more of her wicked, barbed wit. More of her.
“Behold, madam,” he said, “within the course of a day I am a changed man.”
Her assessing gaze swept across him. “It must be an internal change, Your Grace, for you appear much the same this afternoon as you did this morning.”
“Indeed, it is something that could not be detected by the naked eye.” He didn’t miss the way her breath caught at the wordnaked. “Earlier today, it had been my intention to insist that you have dinner with me tonight.”
The column of her throat worked as she swallowed, and he saw there the flutter of her pulse. “But now you have another intention?”
“Now Iaskyou to have dinner with me tonight.”
“Funny, I didn’t hear any such question. Only another command.”
He chuckled lowly. “Habits are difficult beasts to break.Pleasewill you dine with me tonight? Just the two of us. I crave your company away from the Bazaar.”
“Prettily phrased, Your Grace.” Her cutting words were underscored by breathlessness. “I take it you have considerable experience proposing trysts.”
“I also have considerable experience with what happens during trysts, and make certain that everyone receives the benefits of my practice.”
A pink flush stained her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “Receiving rejection must be unusual for you.”
“That’s what this is?” He tried to keep his voice light. “A rejection?”
Her lips quirked. “How shocked you sound.”
“Forgive me my impertinence. I find you fascinating, and I flattered myself in thinking I wasn’t alone in this attraction.”
“You aren’t.” Her cheeks went even more rosy, a delightful contrast to the coolness in her tone. “A word of advice about me, Your Grace. I prefer to do things in my own time, and at the urging of my own inclination. WhenIdecide I want you in my bed, I will let you know.”
“When,”he said. “Notif.”
“Indeed.” She tapped him once in the center of hischest, and though she’d donned her gloves, and despite the layers of his waistcoat and shirt, he felt that tap like summer lightning. “A more sagacious woman than I would tell you no. In this, however, I am not so sage.Iwill lead in this dance.Iwill tell you when I’m ready for more. Until then...”
“Go slowly,” he said.
“Veryslowly.”
He felt himself smiling. “Where you lead, I will follow. I’ll have you know, not being in command will be a first for me.”
“And here I thought you’d left your virginity behind long ago.” She looked pointedly at his arm. “Now you may escort me outside to the carriage.”
He snapped to attention, offering her his arm. It felt like the greatest blessing a man could receive—and one of the most erotic experiences he could remember—to have her rest her fingers gently on his sleeve.
“Your servant, madam,” he murmured before guiding her toward the front door.
