Page 36 of The Iron Duke's Flaming Christmas
The air seemed to spark around them when she took his hand. He placed one hand on her waist and raised her other hand in his. They faced each other. And then, he started twirling her around, in the classic one, two, and three step of the waltz.
Tiny snowflakes started to fall around them, landing in her hair. The familiar, evocative scent of her perfume wafted toward him. He breathed it in as if it were nectar. His hand tightened on her waist as desire flooded his bloodstream again.
He wanted her as badly as ever. He had possessed her and thought it would slake his inexplicable lust for her, but he realized, with a shock, that it hadn’t. In fact, his hunger for her had grown exponentially.
He was drowning in her eyes. It was as if time had stopped. And there was no one on this earth but the two of them, twirling around the garden, with snowflakes falling around them.
Chapter 19
Selene felt herself bending toward the duke, as he twirled her around the garden, against her will. She hadn’t wanted to dance with him. In fact, when he had held out his hand to her, she had been tempted to ignore it entirely.
Her body was softening, melting like ice thawing beneath the sun. The anger against him and the hurt evaporated, and now, she was glowing with desire again, blossoming with it. She closed her eyes, relishing the feeling, the blood coursing with it through her veins, the sheer wonder of it.
She forgot where they were, and that they were not alone. She forgot everything but the feeling of being held by him. She felt like they might dance into the sky itself. In her mind, she heard an orchestra, playing sweet music.
Her eyelids fluttered open. He was gazing straight at her, with a look of naked need on his face. Her stomach dropped.
“I am sorry,” he whispered, his voice husky. “I was trying to get to you today, but my visitors arrived early…”
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “You did not have to do that, Your Grace…”
“Of course I did,” he said, in a fierce whisper, his hand tightening on her waist. “Last night… last night was perfect. More than I ever imagined.”
Her stomach dropped again. Desperately, she blinked back tears, trying to keep her composure.
“Selene,” he whispered slowly, rolling the word on his tongue, as if it were something beautiful. “May I call you by your name?”
She hesitated. “I… I suppose so.” She bit her lip. “You do not owe me anything. I understand how these things work. You are a duke—and I am a governess…”
“You are a beautiful, desirable woman,” he growled, his eyes filled with fire. “And I do not regret what we did together. I was dying for you… I still am.” He hesitated. “It seems my desire for you is insatiable.”
They kept twirling, around and around, until she felt quite dizzy. Her heart was so full she could barely breathe. She never wanted this moment to end…
“There you are, Your Grace.”
They both jumped, startled, springing apart. Lady Gwen was standing there, dressed in a luxurious fur lined maroon velvet cape, staring at them.
“My lady,” said the duke, walking toward her. He looked uncomfortable. “I trust you are well rested?”
“Quite,” she replied, in a crisp voice, pulling at her velvet gloves. Her eyes flickered toward Selene. “What an elegant dancer you are, Miss Bomind. One would almost think that you were a proper lady… but not quite.”
“Papa and Miss Bomind were showing me what the waltz looks like,” said Lenore, smiling brightly. “I asked them to.”
“What a poppet you are,” said Lady Gwen, patting the little girl on the head, as if she were a puppy. She turned back to the duke, with a dazzling smile, ignoring Selene entirely. “Will you accompany me back to the house, Your Grace? We could have a sherry before dinner.”
“Of course,” said the duke quickly, offering his arm to her. “It would be my pleasure.”
The lady took it, raising her chin. Selene watched, her heart tight, as they sauntered off together, chatting the whole way, their heads bent toward one another. The magic spell of her dance with the duke had burst like a bubble.
“She is so pretty,” declared Lenore, her eyes wide with admiration. “And kind.”
Selene’s heart tightened further. “Yes, she is a very pretty lady,” she replied, in a short voice. “It is getting late, my lady. We must get you back to the house for your dinner.”
Lenore sighed, nodding. They started walking to the house in silence. Selene tried not to keep looking at the duke and the lady in the distance, but it was as if her eyes were fixated on them.
I do not like that lady… and it isn’t just because she has taken a strange instant dislike to me. I do not believe she is kind, as Lenore believes. I don’t think she really likes Lenore at all. It is all show… to prove to the duke that she will be a good mother to his daughter.
Her heart tightened again. Did the duke admire the lady? Would he succumb to her charms and marry her for the sake of Lenore, if nothing else, so the little girl could have the mother that she sorely needed? And so he might have a son and heir?
