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The wager he wished to collect from her was completely improper, especially given that he meant to officially offer for Beatrice. He’d decided on it the moment Andromeda had challenged him, her plump lips pursing in outrage.
Andromeda had a temper.
Every time her rounded bottom had come into view while she bent to toss one of her bowls, it had inflamed him beyond reason. And the smug grins she’d given him when she scored only served to make David imagine her naked and pliant beneath him. Even the copper sparking in her hair drove him mad. He’d had to turn away from her several times because her nearness aroused him to a painful extent.
As it was doing now. His cock throbbed between his legs, instinct making him want to grab her from the lawn and spirit Andromeda away. A soft groan left him.
The scandal would be insurmountable.
“Shit.”
“Your Grace?” A footman appeared next to him, holding his coat, face full of anxiety as if he were responsible for David’s mood.
He took his coat from the footman and flung it over his shoulders, grateful he wouldn’t have to stand on the steps to regain his composure before joining the few remaining guests on the terrace.
The coat would cover the worst of his condition.
