Page 10 of Never a Duchess
“Because he will gaze into yer eyes like he’s peering into yer soul.” He walked towards her again, this time as if drawn by the earth’s magnetic pull. “It willnae falter.”
She swallowed hard when he breached her personal space.
“Watch how I take yer hand.” Damn, he’d forgotten she wasn’t wearing gloves. It took every effort to stem a lustful shiver. “I touch ye like ye’re delicate, like my only motive is to protect ye.”
Had she been wearing gloves, he might have kissed her knuckles. Instead, he kept his mouth a mere inch from her hand as he bowed low.
“Are ye able to distinguish the difference?” he said.
“Yes, you looked at me as if I were precious.”
Oh, she was beyond precious.
He had never enjoyed a woman’s company more.
“And you were breathing quite deeply,” she added.
“I imagine love steals the breath from the soul, nae the lungs.”
Her lips parted as she studied him. “Have you never been in love, Your Grace?”
How in blazes did he answer?
He professed to be a man of experience.
“I know infatuation and admiration, but I am yet to feel the all-consuming power of true love.” He knew how obsession kept a man awake at night, how it had him hunting the ballrooms, searching for his prey.
“I know a little of that, too,” she said, surprising him.
So, he had not imagined this inexplicable attraction.
“Mr Bloom was my brother’s secretary,” she began, the comment hitting him like a spray of barbed arrows. “I thought he loved me and became swept up in false emotions. That was five years ago. When I was but a slip of a girl.”
Mr Bloom!
Mr Bloody Bloom!
“I pray the devil kept his hands to himself.” Which was more than could be said for Callan. When he found Roxburgh’s secretary, he would wring his damn neck.
She jerked as if insulted. “Of course.”
“Is that why ye’re writing a book about rogues?”
“Yes,” she uttered, the word carrying a heavy sadness.
He realised two things then. Miss Ware had a secret. And her experience with Bloom was not the reason she wanted to identify deceivers.
As she wasn’t ready to trust him, he returned to the topic at hand.
“And now to the final example.” Callan arched a brow. “Are ye sure ye want me to play the rakehell? I’ll need to touch ye without asking permission.”
She bit her bottom lip, unaware the sight made his stomach flip. “You won’t do anything scandalous?”
He snorted. “Madam, we’re alone together in a dark room. If found, it will cause the scandal of the season. But be assured, I’ll touch yer forearm and elbow, nowhere else.”
Frown lines marred her brow, but Callan took his position by the door. He closed his eyes briefly, recalling how hard he had been in bed this morning at the mere thought of seeing her tonight.
Lust flowed hot and molten in his veins.
