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Narrowing her eyes, she strolled toward him. “You underestimate me, Your Grace.”
An arrogant brow lifted. “A lesser woman would have surely descended into throes of nervous spasms or swooning fits by now, so I suspect I might truly find myself in a position to worry about your formidable wrath; however, you will stay in this room where I can keep a watchful—”
Moving with speed, she hooked her feet at his ankle and deftly twisted. The duke went down, twisting with agility to break his fall. He too was trained in the art of fighting, and unexpectedly the knowledge thrilled Theo. Before she could dance back from his reach, he grabbed one of her knees and tugged. “Your Grace,” she cried as her feet vanished from beneath her.
The brute!She braced for the impact, except she didn’t slam into the ground as she had expected, but onto a very solid and muscular chest as they rolled to a stop on the carpet. Theo’s face was pressed into the curve of his throat, one of her legs draped across his thighs, the other thankfully on the floor. She was maddeningly conscious of her body on top of his, that she could feel the press of his length…and muscles against her softness. The breadth of his shoulders seemed to surround her. The duke hadn’t seemed so overpoweringly male or muscular a few minutes ago. An odd feeling of awareness and vulnerability cascaded over her senses, and she curled her fingers into the carpet by his head.
Theo swallowed, alarmingly savoring the feeling of being surrounded by him. Her heart felt as if it had stopped.This is reckless madness. The thought beat restlessly at her, yet she did not want to push away from it. With a sense of astonishment, she wondered if this was what desire felt like. This hot weak feeling low in her belly, the odd flutter in her heart, and the surge of hunger, as if she smelled Mrs. Gooden making ice-cream using one of Frederick Nutt’s delightful recipes. She wanted to lick the duke. Theo almost dissolved into giggle at the very improper and unexpected thought.
“Are you hurt?” he gruffly asked.
Theo’s heart started beating again, if unevenly. She pressed a palm against his chest and pushed herself up, only to freeze. The intensity with which the duke stared at her made Theo’s body felt flushed and unfamiliar. “I…I am not hurt, Your Grace.”
“Perhaps it is time you call me, Seb…or Sebastian should you prefer it.”
It was unbearably tempting to press her nose into the crook of his neck and inhale his rich masculine scent. “You may continue calling me, Lady Winfern,” she muttered crossly, annoyed that his nearness wreaked havoc on her senses.
His eyes widened before crinkling at the corner. The duke chuckled, the rich and very warm sound rolling through her and filling low in her belly with strange fluttering. The duke’s eyes lost their cold, and rather arrogant expression. Now they were heated with humor…and desire.
That desire hooked something low in her belly and sharply pulled. He seemed aware of her fear, of her hot, flushed skin and acutely sensitive nerves. Unexpectedly, he lifted a hand to her forehead, where he tenderly brushed aside a few curled tendrils. Theo must have looked a fright with her mass of hair tumbling from her upswept chignon.
“You are a very surprising woman, Lady Winfern. Not many men could have brought me down with such effortless skill. I am impressed.”
“My friend once suggested a fabled dragon was easier to find that a progressive minded gentleman. I am impressed that you are impressed.”
She attempted to roll off him, but he went with her, so that he was now the one above her. Theo clasped his shoulders, gripping his jacket as if it were a lifeline. “Your Grace…”
“Are you spoken for?”
Astonished, Theo peered up at the duke. What did he mean? She searched his face, her heart pounding. “Are you asking me if I have a lover, Your Grace?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him for endless seconds. The duke did not prod or push but waited with surprising patience. “I have no lover.” Theo did not know why she answered such an intimate question.
“Good,” he murmured.
Her belly went hot. “I suspect you wish to kiss me, considering the manner you are staring at my mouth,” she whispered.
Theo was wretchedly, horrifyingly tempted.
The duke appeared faintly surprised. “Are you always this direct?”
“Would you prefer if I had been coy?”
The beginning of a smile raised the corners of his mouth. “No.”
“I too have wondered what it might feel like to kiss you, Your Grace,” she confessed with out any embarrassment.
His eyes darkened. “How often have you wondered?”
She flushed and her lips parted. Determined to appear worldly and indifferent, she murmured, “Isn’t that the nature of curiosity? That the idea tease and torment our senses until we know the truth of our musings?”
Lady Lucinda, another widowed friend greatly admired for her sophisticated charm would be most proud of Theo in this moment. “Best we get it over with and out of the way since we will be travelling together in our search for Perdie, and we would not want this…this curiosity to affect us on our journey.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Get it out of the way…, no sweet words to cajole my lips to yours, Lady Winfern?”
“You require flattery to your conceit for a mere kiss…how duke like,” she said mockingly.
