Page 13 of What's a Duke Got to Do With It
And so much flesh. Her gaze roved hungrily over him. He had always been well-formed, of course, with his broad shoulders and slim hips that the current fashions fit with impressive perfection. Now, however, there was so much more to him, his shoulders broader, his chest massive. And his thighs. Dear God in heaven, had they always filled out his trousers so well?
But it was his face that arrested her attention. There was that same dark, wavy hair, just a tad too long; those same lips, deliciously generous, ones she had dreamed of kissing on more than one occasion. And, most importantly, there were those piercing gray eyes with their fringe of impossibly long lashes. They widened as they took her in. He opened his mouth, as if about to speak.
Whatever he had been about to say, however, was lost as a sudden booming woof rent the air. It was not until she heard the scrambling of nails and the thudding of giant paws on the polished wood floor, however, that she understood just what that woof heralded. By then, Mouse had already rounded the drawing room door. She froze as he galloped into the room. His head swiveled in their direction, jowls swaying, tongue lolling, what appeared to be almost a grin on his face at the sight of them—or, rather, the newest inhabitants. Another great bark sounded, fairly shaking the cups on their saucers, and he was racing across the room. Right for the duke.
Time slowed, Katrina’s eyes widening in horror, knowing what was about to come. There was nothing Mouse liked more than to greet newcomers, particularly males, by shoving his head in the most inappropriate places. Before she could open her mouth to stop the animal, however, suddenly the duke was in front of her, planting himself between her and Mouse. Like a knight of old preparing to do battle with a fire-breathing dragon.
In the next instant Mouse’s great snout, given a clear shot to that body part he loved most, arrowed straight for the duke’s… nether regions. And with a strangled “Uargh!” the duke doubled over, dropping like a felled tree.
Chapter 4
Perhaps if Sebastian had been in full possession of his faculties, perhaps if he had not still been reeling from seeing Miss Denby again—dear God, it truly was her—he might have understood sooner that it was merely a dog that was racing toward them like a demented stampeding elephant.
As the situation had stood, however, he had seen her, the one woman who had ever made him want more from life, the one who had made him dream things he had never expected to dream, and he had been shocked to his core. In a split second he had felt the worries of the past years melt away as he’d stared into her clear blue eyes. He had been overcome by the urge to rush to her, to take her hand in his and never let go now that he had found her again.
It had been in that moment, however, that the dog—if one could even call a creature of that size a dog—had torn into the drawing room. Sebastian had acted on instinct alone, positioning himself between Miss Denby—Lady Tesh and Bridling had been far from his thoughts though they were right next to him—and the huge black-and-white flailing beast that was barreling toward them at full speed.
He’d braced himself, feet planted wide, fists raised. No doubt some part of him expected to be leapt upon and torn limb from limb. What he didnotexpect, however, was for a huge yet decidedly canine snout to run straight into his… ahem.
He must have yelled out. At least he thought he had. There was the echo of something tortured and quite loud that bounced about in his brain. All he was aware of, however, was pain exploding in that most sensitive place. He doubled over, his face planting in the wriggling black-and-white back of what he now knew to be a dog but was much more the size of a pony. Or a small horse.
“Oh!” Miss Denby cried, her voice sounding as if from a distance for all his ears were ringing. “I am so very sorry. Mouse! Stop this at once, you are being very naughty.”
And then the beast was dragged from his person. And Sebastian, lacking that canine body to keep him upright, and much to his chagrin—if he had been at all capable of feeling chagrin just then—dropped like a stone.
For the next several seconds, he felt caught in some limbo, his ears filling with cotton, his vision going dark about the edges. Until, that was, he finally managed to drag a shuddering breath back into his empty lungs. It was then he heard Lady Tesh’s voice ringing through the air.
“Katrina, I told you to keep that blasted beast contained.”
“I’m sorry, my lady. I did not even think of locking him up before coming here.”
“A dire mistake, one the poor duke is now paying for.”
There was a groan then, rising over their voices. It took him some seconds to realize that the sound was coming from him. And only because Miss Denby dropped to her knees beside him and took his face in her hands. He knewthatbecause his eyes snapped open at the sensation of her cool fingers on his skin—something that should not feel as wonderful as it did. Especially considering what condition the other aspects of his person were in.
“I am so sorry, does it hurt much?”
But, though he could now breathe and though he knew he must be capable of speech, he could not find the voice to answer her, for the sight that met his eyes hit him like a punch to the gut.
Miss Denby’s face was sweetly flushed, and so close to his own that, had he been at all capable of it, he could have easily risen up mere inches to take her lips in a kiss. It was something he had ached to do four years ago, and apparently that urge had not quieted in him—no matter what his present physical state was. How was it she was even more lovely than before? Her face was heart-shaped, her cheeks like apples, her eyes tilted up ever so slightly at the corners and with a thick fringe of lashes that practically reached to her delicately arched brow. Her hair was like spun gold, curling at her temples and caressing the side of her long neck. And her lips… ah, God, those lips, bow-shaped, with the most delectably full bottom lip, so plump it creased in the center. A lip made for kissing.
“He’s not answering me,” Miss Denby gasped, blessedly unaware of his inappropriate thoughts, looking up at Lady Tesh even as she reached out to push the massive canine away. “NotnowMouse,” she cried before turning back to Sebastian, her voice more desperate than before. “Your Grace, please answer me.”
Finally, he found his voice. But only because her use of such a form of address directed to him—something he had never heard from her sweet lips before—had been like a bucket of ice water poured over his head. He was not the same ignorant, conceited young man he had been so long ago, after all. No, his days of dreaming of anything with this woman were well and truly over.
“I’m fine,” he croaked, attempting to sit up and distance himself from her. “Truly.”
She let loose a relieved breath. It fanned his face, smelling of whatever sweet thing she had partaken of last and something else, something utterly feminine and delicious.
“Thank goodness,” she breathed. “Oh! But let me help you up.”
Before he knew what she was about, she leveraged herself to her feet, bent over him, and jammed her hands under his arms. Which only managed to thrust her bosom into his face. That, accompanied by the sounds of effort she was making from that delectable mouth as she attempted to lift him by sheer will, were doing the most unfortunate things to his body.
When one particularly vigorous attempt nearly caused her breasts to spill free of their delicate muslin prison, however, he finally regained the sense he needed to put a stop to her efforts.
“I can manage,” he croaked, waving his hands in the air in a bid for her to stop.
She did, immediately, stepping back and dragging the still wriggling dog with her, looking as miserable as any one person could.
