To Bed a Beauty (Courtship Wars 2)

Dismayed to think Arden might spoil all her plans, Roslyn searched his face. His eyes contained a gleam of mockery that made her suspect he was teasing her. “Please…you cannot tell him.”

“Oh, I won’t. That wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me.”

“And you won’t tell Marcus either about what I was doing that night? I don’t want to worry him when he is preparing to leave for his wedding trip with my sister.”

“I don’t want to worry him, either,” Arden agreed dryly. “I have no desire for him to discover that I tried to seduce his ward, however unwittingly.”

“I am not technically his ward any longer. He drew up a contract, granting us our legal independence.”

“So he told me, but he still would not be happy to learn of our prior encounter. I might end up facing him over pistols at dawn, God forbid. So you may count on me to keep your indiscretion a secret. I suppose your crime was not so terribly egregious, after all. And the danger is over now.”

Roslyn breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I know I acted foolishly. And I promise I won’t be attending any more notorious functions like that again.”

“I will let it pass if you will.”

“Agreed, your grace. Indeed, I would prefer to forget that night ever happened.”

“Oh?” An odd little smile touched his lips. “Do you think you can forget?”

“I suppose not. No one has ever…”

“Ever what? Tried to seduce you?”

Roslyn wrinkled her nose in amusement. “Oh, several have tried, but they never succeeded. I have never allowed any man to…to kiss me as you did.” Or touch me like that, she couldn’t help thinking.

“I am gratified,” he said in that dry-as-dust tone.

When a silence fell between them, Roslyn suddenly became aware that dusk had fallen during the time they’d been talking on the terrace. She could hear the strains of music spilling through the doors from the ballroom, could smell the sweet scent of roses from the gardens below. With his face in shadow, though, she had trouble making out the duke’s expression.

Then he took a step closer, and she recalled the last time she had encountered him alone…what had happened between them.

He was gazing down at her mouth, and Roslyn found herself staring back at his, remembering how those sensual lips had kissed her breasts, suckled them.

A hot, biting arc of awareness flared between them.

As if he was remembering, too, his voice lowered to a husky murmur. “You shouldn’t make a practice of being alone with a gentleman after dark.”

“I know.” Her own voice was unsteady-and that was before he reached up to lightly touch her jaw, stroking with a fingertip.

Roslyn knew she should pull away, yet she couldn’t move. She stared up into his unforgettable eyes, wondering if he intended to kiss her again. The very air seemed to crackle all around them. She moistened her lips, half in dread, half in anticipation.

Then suddenly the duke dropped his hand. “You had best return to your ball.”

Roslyn curled her hands into fists and struggled to breathe evenly. “Y-yes, your grace.” Shaking herself, she started to move past him but then stopped. “Thank you for being so reasonable,” she said, her tone conciliatory.

His mouth twisted, but he didn’t reply, so Roslyn turned away.

Drew watched her go and then stood there on the darkened terrace long after she had slipped through the ballroom doors.

He didn’t feel particularly reasonable. Instead he felt…sexually frustrated. He had been the one to end their encounter this time, but it had been unaccountably difficult.

The damnable truth was, the spark he’d felt that night for Roslyn Loring was still there between them.

Drew cursed beneath his breath. She was a forbidden temptation, one that aroused all his most dangerous instincts. He’d had the strongest urge just now to draw her into his arms and make love to her right there. Her supple body had beckoned him, her innocence had dared him. In her elegant silk gown, Roslyn had looked remote, untouchable, yet he knew better. He’d seen a glimpse of the real woman before this. The woman whose untutored passion had set his blood racing.

He hadn’t imagined her wild, sweet responsiveness that night, or the w

ay she had set him alight. He was still unsettled by the disturbing potency of that encounter.