What the Duke Wants(34)

“I assure you the girls will be all that is goodness and light, your grace.” Carlotta replied in a clipped tone.

“I—”

“And they are girls, not simply wards.” Carlotta finally spoke the words she had wanted to shout from the first moment he had reduced them to simply an obligation rather than the delight that they were. Her tone was soft but steely, and she prayed she hadn’t offended him… too much.

He stared at her, as if weighing his next words. Anger had flushed his face yet his eyes were calculating as if his mind were trying to convince his emotions to back down.

So she waited, her hands clasped in front of her and her posture prim and straight.

“Be that as it may…” he began, then paused, working his jaw and narrowing his eye slightly, “I still require you to indulge Lady Southridge’s whims.

“Of course, your grace. Is there anything else?” Carlotta asked as she kept her posture stiff.

“Yes. So please, make yourself comfortable. I’m nowhere finished with you yet.” He gestured to the settee, a rebellious smile tilting his lips and making him appear the rake his reputation had deemed.

Carlotta bit the inside of her lip, then walked to the settee and sat, a sigh escaping her lips.

“Tsk, tsk, Miss Lottie. We cannot have you give a bad example to the girls. You shouldn’t sigh so.” He shook his head.

“Forgive my sigh, your grace.” She gave a forced smile, knowing she was playing a dangerous game to provoke him, yet she couldn’t seem to restrain herself.

“All is forgiven. I had not known my presence was so exasperating,” he commented as he dusted imaginary lint from his sapphire colored waistcoat.

“I value honestly over flattery, your grace.”

“Miss Lottie. It seems you are in possession of a sharp wit this afternoon. I will simply have to hone my own in order to give you a worthy counterpart.”

“There is no need—”

“Oh, indeed there is.” His eyes took on a predatory gleam as he stepped forward slowly, deviously, and challengingly.

Carlotta watched his approach with growing suspicion. Whatever he was about was not good.

“Perhaps to conquer your wit, I’ll simply have to silence it,” he mused, his gaze roaming her features. Gone was the cool displeasure of earlier, replacing it was a warm and teasingly passionate expression that lit Carlotta’s stomach to fluttering and her blood to pulsing furiously through her veins. His gaze moved from hers to settle upon her lips. Though the glance was quick, it changed the depth of his eyes from a summer lake’s blue to the passionately tousled North Sea’s hue in the midst of a storm. Hunger burned brightly, stealing all thought from Carlotta’s captivated mind.

“Yes, I see that if I’m to conquer you at your own game, I must change the rules.”

“I don’t think—”

“Thinking would be a very bad idea right now,” he whispered, holding his hand out as he paused before her.

Glancing to his hand, she paused, debating. She could feel his body heat and it called to her, beckoned her. The scent of cinnamon and cloves permeated the air, thickening it, weaving a spell around her till she felt her hand reach for his. Immediately his grip tightened and he pulled softly, and she stood. Though she only came up to his chin, it seemed the perfect height for his scent to hold her captive, for his eyes to penetrate her soul.

As if he knew she were about to try and break the spell that passion had woven so intricately around them, he silenced her unspoken efforts with his lips. Softly, his lips met hers, but with determined pressure, he left no question that this kiss was very, very intentional.


Though chaste by most standards, this kiss seemed to place his claim on her soul. After the brief touch, he leaned back gazing into her eyes, eyes she realized, had never closed through the short duration of the kiss.

His gaze spoke the question clearly, though words were never used.

Again?

Carlotta felt herself nod ever so slightly, but it was all the confirmation the duke needed for his lips captured hers once more.

And this kiss was far from chaste.

His lips caressed hers with a persuasion she was unable to deny. She inhaled deeply, letting the moment flood her senses. His taste of peppermint combined with his masculine and heady scent of cinnamon was nearly her undoing. He teased her lips with his tongue, caressing them before biting gently and evoking the most astonishing pleasure she had ever encountered.

As if of their own accord, her arms found their way to embracing him, his solid shoulders were warm beneath her gloved hands and firm in their strength. His muscles were coiled, roped in a way that was completely primal and she wantonly desired to be able to feel him far more than her gloves and his jacket allowed.

His hands pressed into the small of her back, guiding her deeper into his embrace. Warm tingles of delight danced in her belly as his lips left hers and traveled across her jawline to her ear.

“You taste sweeter than I remember. How I utterly missed you,” he whispered, causing Carlotta to gasp at the revelation.

He had missed her?

Well he was kissing her… so that signified.

But somehow hearing it from his lips, and then having those same lips show just how much his words were true.

It was delightful.

Splendid.

Utterly—