Page 8 of Never a Duchess
“The testimony of a scoundrel. Ask me questions, and I’ll answer honestly. On condition ye dinnae name me.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “I hate to break this to you, but you’re not a scoundrel.” He was far more dangerous.
He smiled darkly. “Miss Ware, ye could tempt any man to sin. Believe me, I can be anything yer heart desires.”
ChapterTwo
Callan had over-stepped the mark.
The moment he decided to follow Miss Ware upstairs, he knew he would be unable to control his wild urges.
As a Highlander, he took what he wanted.
As a duke, he conformed to society’s dictates.
As a man, he found himself wavering between the two.
This woman drove him to distraction. He spent nine months of the year trying to forget her, three months stalking her and following her about like a lovesick fool. Tonight, his patience had suffered a seizure, and he’d asked her to state her issue. But he had not stopped there.
His heart had thundered in his chest when he drew her blood.
His cock had hardened as he sucked her finger.
He wished he were a damn scoundrel. Then, he would hike up her skirts and drive home. With every hard thrust, he would rid her from his memory.
Except he was a duke—and dukes did not ruin innocents.
“Are you offering to assist me in my research?” Miss Ware sounded amused, but it was a facade. Nerves left her chin quivering.
A sliver of moonlight danced over her rosebud lips and dark auburn hair. Many times he had envisioned pulling her into an embrace, pressing his nose to her silky locks and inhaling her unique scent.
Callan cleared his throat. “Ye’re in danger of sounding biased. Ye need to understand the workings of a man’s mind before offering an objective opinion.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure a man thinks with his mind.”
No, like a disobedient scamp, a certain part of Callan’s anatomy wept for her attention. “Which proves my point. Ye’ve made a hypothesis based on the actions of one party.”
“Society women are notoriously naive.”
It was his turn to laugh. “Are ye saying females dinnae have the same urges? Ye may lack experience—”
“I know what desire feels like, Your Grace.”
Callan firmed his jaw. He did not want to hear a story of a young buck stealing a kiss from her luscious lips. He knew something of Miss Ware’s past but refused to imagine her with any other man.
“What does desire feel like?” he challenged.
Her eyes widened, shock giving way to defiance. “What does it matter? People are not interested in my opinion.”
“Ye’re the one writing a book. Why would anyone buy a manual from someone who lacks experience?”
She gulped and resisted answering.
Callan folded his arms across his chest. “Ye’ll need to define desire. Else, how will readers understand?”
“It’s h-hard to explain.”
“Try. I mean to help, nae judge.”
