Page 20 of The Duke and the Darkness

“What warm-blooded man doesn’t?”

She turned her head to gaze over her shoulder at him, bringing her mouth so close to his that the warmth of his breath shivered across her lips. She paused with her mouth right there, knowing she could kiss him if she simply tilted up her chin. When his gaze fell to her lips, she knew he was considering just that, and a soft thrill of triumph sped through her.

She turned back toward the stage. “Then don’t let me interrupt your evening.”

He chuckled, the sound tickling her ear. Yet there was no amusement in it. “Why are you here? It isn’t for the opera.”

There.The invitation she’d been waiting for. “I’m here for you.” Slowly, she rose from the chair and circled around it to join him in the dark shadows in the rear of the box. “To continue our game.”

“But there’s no card game here, so you have no way to win more of my money through duplicitous means.”

“I wasn’t duplicitous. I warned you outright, remember? It isn’t my fault you underestimated me.”

“You led me to believe you had no money but the pile of winnings in front of you.”

She tsked her tongue and reached up to play with his cravat, ostensibly to straighten the knot. “You assumed that because you wanted to believe it. You, of all people, should know you cannot trust your eyes at cards, that you have to use all your senses to know what your enemy is thinking.”

“Opponent, you mean,” he corrected, yet he didn’t put her hands away from him.

No. He was the enemy, and even more dangerous because she’d once loved him before he’d turned foe. There had been times that night at Barton’s when it seemed as if they were still the same young acquaintances they’d been before. Back then, what she’d wanted most of all was to make him notice her as a woman.

Ironically, some things never changed.

“Surely you’re not upset with me for being the better player,” she purred. “I simply outplayed you.” Or in this case, simply counted cards while successfully distracting him.

“You were attempting to seduce me.”

“Not attempting.”Succeeding.An old thrill spiraled through her, the same one that had plagued her ten years ago whenever he’d graced her with a short word or a passing smile. Oh, she’d been nothing to him then. But now… “I’d hoped the seduction was mutual.”

“So did I,” he murmured and punctuated his point with a caress of his knuckles across her cheek.

It wasn’t a simple thrill that sparked through her then, but a deep and longing ache. She wasn’t an innocent girl anymore, yet for a split second, the sensation unnerved her. And not because he was her enemy.

All these years, she’d been certain that Dartmoor had had a hand in murdering her parents, that he was the one who had attempted to rape her. But as she felt a feminine ache for him blossom inside her, the whispering doubts in the dark corners ofher mind began to shout that she was wrong, and this time, they were too loud to ignore.

Confusion swirled through her. How could her body take such pleasure in his attentions if he’d attempted to force himself upon her? Surely it would remember, would be able to recognize the enemy…wouldn’t it?

“And if I’d have won that hand?” He smiled, mistaking the sudden tension in her.

She forced herself to relax and pulled her concentration back to the present. Twisting her lips with chagrin, she leaned against him to whisper into his ear, “Then you would be the owner of a lovely little estate in Sussex.”

He stopped her when she moved to shift back, gently taking her arms and lightly holding her against him. Her breasts brushed against his chest and traitorously increased the throbbing ache inside her. He raked a hot gaze over her. “That wasn’t what I was referring to.”

“I know.” As if to make her point, she pulled at his cravat, twisting loose the knot and rumpling it as she stepped away.

Knowing never to take her eyes off the enemy, she slowly retreated two steps into the shadows, until her back pressed flat against the rear wall. She placed her palms against the paneling on either side of her, arching her back and thrusting out her breasts, the same way she’d seen the opera singer do that night at the duchess’s musicale to draw the attentions of the young gentlemen. To drawhisattention most of all.

Come into my parlor…

He didn’t move, his eyes fixed on her through the subdued darkness of the box. For a moment, her heart plummeted in disappointment, and she felt like the same unwanted girl he’d ignored all those years ago. No, not ignored—she couldn’t be ignored if he’d never realized she was there in the first place.

Then slowly, he accepted her unspoken invitation and followed. He closed the distance between them until he stood so close she could feel the heat of his front warming the top swells of her breasts above the low neckline of her dress. So close, but not touching.Yet.

He lowered his head, stopping his mouth just before it found hers. “Why did you go to Barton’s that night?”

“To take your money.”

“And that was all?”