AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Controlled?’ Which, in other circumstances, he would have enjoyed pursuing, especially when that careful control snapped in a torrent of passion...
‘Yes. Perhaps a scandal would make things more interesting.’
She looked up at him as if he were the answer to every prayer. Very few people interested him. Fewer held his attention. At the moment, this diminutive creature in front of him had him thrumming like a tuning fork, all to her song. As if he were the hero she searched for. It sounded as if the beautiful Sara Conrad needed the fantasy of an escape, even if he could never give her that.
‘Oh, angel.’
Her pupils dilated. Wide, dark reflections of her desires. All he saw in them was himself.
Lance’s voice pitched even lower. Rough and unrecognisable. ‘Scandal I can do.’
Her lips parted. She licked them. ‘Please.’
That one whispered word exploded to life. Left him hard and aching. More like an untried boy than a man who’d been unashamedly sampling beautiful women since his late teens. The power of her request coursed through him like a drug. Intoxicating. Addicting.
Temptation, thy name is Sara.
He should move away, yet here, cloistered from the crowd, with unspoken desire thick and heady around them, there was nowhere he’d rather be. Lance was lost in a world centring on her.
‘Sara!’ Her back stiffened. Her head dropped. Lance looked over at a pinched-looking older couple. They turned their sour attention to him. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Astill, the Duke of Bedmore, but you will call me Your Grace.’ Lance stood to his full height, towering over the couple as he glared down on them. ‘And who the hell are you?’
Their eyes widened and that look he was so familiar with, the avarice of aristocracy, swept across their faces at the mention of his title. Mamas had been trying to marry their daughters off to him for years, to make a duchess out of them. This pair’s interest would pass. They’d work out who he was soon enough. What he loathed, more than the people before him, was that Sara stood there, still and silent. It was as if all the life had been bled out of her.
‘My parents, Count and Countess Conrad,’ she said.
Her father spoke first. ‘Why do you have our daughter sequestered behind this shrubbery?’
Lance did nothing bar raise an eyebrow. ‘I would have thought it obvious, considering today was the funeral of herfiancé.’ He hated having to pretend she was grieving that wastrel, but he’d protect Sara’s reputation. It wasn’t his to destroy. ‘Lady Sara was overwrought. As agentleman, it was my duty to assist her.’
Her mother simply stared at him. Then she narrowed her eyes. Ah, there it was. She knew.
‘You.’
He smiled. The moment of recognition always amused him. As if standing too close to any woman would ruin her for ever.
‘Lance Astill. You—you’re the...the Debauched Duke.’ The woman spat out the words. Lance was quite proud of the title coined by the tabloids, although he didn’t think it was their most creative moniker. He didn’t discourage the nicknames since they kept most people at a sensible distance.
‘Frankly, I prefer the Dilettante Duke myself. But I own whatever name they give me.’ He leaned forwards conspiratorially and gave a leering wink. ‘Since it’s mostly true.’
The pair blanched. Her father turned. ‘Sara, come with us!’
The beautiful Sara had her head down, shoulders hunched and shaking. His handkerchief was firmly pressed to her mouth. She could be crying. But he didn’t think so. If he wasn’t much mistaken, she gave a delightful little snort of amusement.
‘Now look what you’ve done,’ he said. ‘She’s upset again. After all my valiant efforts.’
‘You’ve done quite enough,’ her mother said.
He raised an imperious eyebrow.
She hesitated. ‘Your Grace.’
He took her capitulation as a win. Baiting bluebloods was his favourite game, after all.
‘As have you. Upsetting your daughter on this most terrible of days. You should take her home immediately, tuck her into bed with a warm cocoa.’
Sara coughed from behind her hand.
