Page 36 of How Not to Marry a Duke

“My godmother, Lady Heywood, is far more observant than Foster.”

She sighed. “If that’s true, then you should understand. If we are to return to Town as planned, our families will suspect something is wrong.”

“There is one sensible solution.”

She took a deep breath. “Pray tell me.”

“We must practice.”

“Practice?”

He couldn’t mean…wouldn’t dare.

“Yes, practice acting affectionate toward each other.”

He did mean it. At least to some extent. She’d already noticed his mouth, the fuller bottom lip and the divot in his chin. Was he proposing kissing? A restless tension coiled inside her, and she felt her face flush with color. “How on earth are we to accomplish that?”

“I can’t imagine it would be that difficult. You are a skilled surgeon who has the knowledge to treat my arm.”

Her heart thumped an irregular beat. “I’m not a surgeon,” she protested once again.

“Regardless, we have already had physical contact.” He extended his hand. “What is the harm in a bit more?”

Chapter Seven

Adeline stared at Warwick’s outstretched hand and wondered if she had the nerve to accept.

Don’t be a ninny. She reached out and slipped her hand in his. His grip was sure and firm, and her palm tingled with warmth.

“We have already taken the first step,” Warwick said.

“We have?” Adeline’s voice sounded strained to her own ears.

“Touching. You have touched me.”

She had. She’d also noticed the clear-cut lines of his perfect profile, his shoulders, his chest. She’d treated men before, of course, but never had she been as aware of a patient as she was of Warwick.

To her horror, she was thinking those same thoughts now. It must be due to her exhaustion. He was still holding her hand and she couldn’t find the strength to pull away from the comfort. Soft prickles of pleasure coursed up her arm. “We will have certain expectations when we return to Town,” she managed to say.

He nodded. “You refer to the Society functions you require.”

She didn’t miss the “you require” at the end of his statement. If it was up to him, they would never be seen together, and that wouldn’t work. “Those functions are necessary, if we are to succeed. We will have to touch in different ways when we are out and about.”

“Like dancing?”

“Yes.”

His mouth turned downward. “I don’t dance. I especially avoid waltzing.”

He released her hand. To her dismay, she felt a sense of loss.

Foolish, Adeline! Either he was a master at seduction or completely ignorant of the effect he had on her.

She folded her arms across her chest. “That isn’t acceptable. All gentlemen dance. You are a duke.”

“I know how, of course. My mother made certain it was part of my education. I choose not to.”

She knew it wasn’t just girls that mothers hired dance instructors to teach. Still, he had to have taken a spin on the dance floor at one time. She eyed him anew. He probably drew every eye in a ballroom when he was announced by a majordomo. Tall, dominating, and ridiculously handsome, he acted as if he couldn’t care less what other men thought of him or what ladies whispered about him behind fluttering fans. Mad, eccentric, or simply elusive, whatever they called him didn’t matter. He was a duke, one step below royalty, and he carried himself with the command associated with his title.