Page 8 of No Duke of Mine

Algernon tilted his head to one side, looking her over again. She was known to him. Something about her was off, though. He could almost put his finger on what it was. Since she wore gloves, Algernon could not determine if she wore a wedding ring or jewels on her fingers yet.

“I have stumped you. How delicious. You always claimed to be so good at riddles, though I’m sure you will tell others that you figured it out much sooner than you will.”

He glanced to the side, to a dining table, and detected a book with a pair of spectacles sitting on top. Neither one gave him a clue. Many women read and wore spectacles.

He scowled. “There’s something wrong with how you look, madam.”

“There is nothing wrong with me, Fairbridge,” she claimed, setting her hands on her hips and glaring at him with annoyance.

Algernon drew closer, challenged rather than put off. He’d been a duke for most of the year now, so she was not a new acquaintance but an older one who did not know of his elevation. “It is Duke of Ravenswood now, madam. My father died.”

“Oh,” she said quickly, setting a tiny hand to her chest. “My humble apologies, Your Grace. News travels slowly to my part of the world.”

He raised a brow. “And what part of the world would that be?”

“Now that could be giving you every clue if you ever knew where I’d gone,” she said, waggling her brows. “You will eventually remember who you are dealing with and become cross with yourself that I bested you again.”

That, too, was familiar.

The woman stood there, smiling up at him, slightly swaying, making her rather plain gown shift around her legs, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

He clicked his fingers multiple times. “It’s just there. I can almost taste it.”

She wet her lips, and Algernon stared at them, too.

“By that look, I assume you are thinking a kiss might help your memory,” she murmured. “I wonder if that could be true.”

If he’d known her as intimately as she claimed, they surely would have kissed. This was hardly the privacy he usually sought, but, well, with his siblings properly married, someone had to set a bad example these days.

Algernon bent his head and captured her pretty lips, hoping to spark some long-forgotten memory.

But the kiss only confused him more. Her inexperience was obvious, but she still kissed him back, and with unexpected enthusiasm. He explored her mouth, enjoying her like a fine wine he’d forgotten he’d enjoyed sampling before. Rich, all-consuming. The kind you could lose your soul for.

And Algernon could not get enough.

He framed her face with his hands, finding new angles as he extended the kiss well beyond the bounds of propriety. Her tongue teased against his, and he sucked it gently into his mouth.

When she withdrew, he followed, unable to stop himself from becoming aroused by her kiss.

When he felt a subtle pressure against his chest, he heeded reason and drew back a little, astonished at himself for getting so carried away in a room with no locks on the door.

The woman seemed momentarily dazed, her lips parted and her breathing rushed, but then she grinned. “You’ve improved.”

But still, he had no newly recovered memory of her, and an overwhelming desire to kiss the woman again and perhaps more, all night long. He crowded her against the window a bit, settled his hands on her hips, and held her there, studying her face in earnest.

The woman bore his proximity and scrutiny without fear or complaint, but a bright blush climbed her cheeks, signaling that she was affected by him, and he drew back again, puzzled by how he could have possibly forgotten having such a passionate woman in his arms before.

“My dear Algernon, I had forgotten how easy it was to lead you by the nose. I could always get you to do what I wanted.”

He paused, staring at her hard as he remembered the only person, a mere slip of a girl, who had held that power over him. Who had bested him more than once and called him by his given name. But they’d been children then. Him barely twelve and her ten, and thrown together for so short a time. Short but entirely memorable.

No wonder he was having so much trouble identifying the woman before him.

Bookish Maggie Black had grown up into a remarkably provocative woman.

But a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his lust, now he knew who he was dealing with. She had tricked him into a kiss today. In the past, it had been a mutual decision to learn to kiss with each other. But those days should have been left far, far behind.

Well, if she wanted a game, he’d play along—and he would make her squirm just as much in return for tricking him.

“Lady Sally Ford,” he said, snapping his fingers and enveloping his long-lost friend in his arms. “I could never forget the passion of your kisses.”