The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(31)

I’d rather take a hot poker in the eye. Aware of their audience, however, she traded her retort for a more diplomatic reply. “I don’t know you. How could I know if we’d suit?”

“The prospect of being a duchess suits most women.”

“I’m not like most women.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” he murmured.

Her cheeks warmed at his blatant male appreciation. In the past, she’d never had reason to flirt. No man had been worth the effort, and she had little patience for the subtleties of fan twirling, eyelash fluttering, and meaningless flummery.

She snuck a glance backward. The muscle ticking in Bennett’s square jaw buoyed her hope. Perhaps flirtation had its uses after all. If the simpering simpletons at Mrs. Southbridge’s could master flirting, then, by God, so could she.

Deliberately, she turned back to the duke. Put on her most charming smile. “And I’m beginning to see that you’re not as bad a fellow as I assumed.”

Ransom stared at her a moment. Then he laughed; it was a surprisingly hearty sound.

I wonder what Bennett’s laugh sounds like, she thought wistfully. He’d never laughed in her presence. He was too busy brooding or giving her a lecture.

“What are my presumed faults, pray tell?” Ransom led her past the fountain.

“You’re a rake,” she said baldly.

“I find that bachelorhood is a state that requires the occasional relief from tedium.”

“More than occasional from what I’ve heard.”

Instead of denying it, Ransom smiled. “I don’t like tedium. I have a feeling we have that in common…Tessa.”

Although she’d given leave for him to call her by her first name, the way his voice caressed those syllables made her cheeks heat. The intimacy felt indecent, as if she’d been caught without her unmentionables.

“You’ll address her as Miss Todd.” Suddenly, Bennett was by her side. He no longer looked calm. In the moonlight, his face was hard, menacing, his body taut with leashed power. “She is a lady, and you’ll pay her the proper respect.”

A thrill coursed through her.

“Call off your guard dog.” Ransom sounded annoyed. “He’s foaming at the mouth.”

She recalled herself enough to say, “Step back, Bennett.”

He didn’t move. His gaze was locked on Ransom, his big hands curled into fists.

Zounds, she couldn’t allow bloodshed to happen. She placed a hand on his chest, the powerful thud of his heart making her own throb in unison. “I said step back.”

His gaze swung to her. Her breath caught at the banked fire behind the wire frames.

Then he stepped back.

Adjusting his lapels, Ransom said, “Let’s continue, shall we?”

Tessa was keenly aware of the crunch of Bennett’s boots behind them as they walked along the perimeter of the garden. She knew she ought to flirt with Ransom some more, but she was already bored with it. Bennett absorbed her attention. She wondered what he was thinking. If he’d intervened because of his personal feelings for her…or if he was only doing his duty.

“Other than my intolerance for boredom,” Ransom said smoothly, “do you have any other aversion to marrying me?”

“Other than my dowry, do you have any other reason for marrying me?”

“No.”

She slanted him a look, surprised by his frankness. They’d circled back to the fountain again, a tall, vertical structure topped by a large stone pineapple. Water sprayed upward from its leaves before tinkling into the tiered basins below.

Instead of walking past, Ransom stopped. Turned her to face him.

“Marriage is a necessity for me, I don’t deny it. But I would not have you be an unwilling bride.” He tipped her chin up with one finger. “While my title might hold little appeal, there are other enticements I could offer you.”

Silver crescents reflected in his eyes. It was oddly mesmerizing.

Bennett’s deep voice cut in. “Miss Todd, you should go back inside.”

She twisted her head, saw the familiar shuttered look on his face. Resentment surged.

“Why?” she challenged.

Bennett’s nostrils flared. “For once, just do as you’re told.”

Just because she desired him didn’t mean that she’d let him lecture her as if she were a child. Moreover, she was tired of his contradictions. Of being led on by crumbs of hope that led nowhere.

Her temper sparked. “Why don’t you do as you’re told and stay out of my way, Professor?”

“Your master’s orders were to escort not interfere.” The lethal edge in Ransom’s tone gave Tessa pause. Made her wonder what lay beneath the duke’s disaffected veneer. “Make yourself scarce.”

Bennett’s frame vibrated with tension, his shoulders up and jaw clenched. For an instant, she feared that he might retaliate. While she was confident he could pound Ransom to a fare-thee-well, there would be consequences for trouncing a duke.

Before she could intervene, Bennett turned heel and stalked to the other side of the fountain. His desertion was oddly deflating. It obviously didn’t take much for him to give up on her.

Because he doesn’t give a damn about you.

Hands cupped her shoulders, and she was turned to face the duke.