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That coldly biting acknowledgment infuriated him more. It occurred to her, despite his rank and position the duke was drawn to her. The notion did frightening things to her heart.

“You brought your chess board and pieces?” she asked, instead of denying the outrageousness of what he suggested and running far away as possible. She tried to reassure herself she was merely seeking ammunition for Miranda, but deep inside…Pippa was a mess of bewildering emotions.

He tapped his temple once. “We will play here.”

She was momentarily diverted. A mental chess game, moving each piece from sheer memory? How positively thrilling. She remembered the last move she had made and each placement of the board with sharp acuity. “I will not promise to be there.”

The duke spoke to her mother briefly before melting away into the crowd. Pippa was painfully aware of all the avid stares of confusion aimed her way because the duke had danced with no other. His sisters sent her several assessing glances from behind their fans, and she wanted to flee from it all. But she had never been a coward, and she would not start acting silly now. Lifting her chin, she made her way through the throng, searching for Mira

nda. Pippa was disappointed to learn her friend had pled a headache and departed while she and the duke danced.

It tore at her heart to know her friend could no longer enjoy a ball. She would not dare slip away to meet him in the gardens. Though, based on the kindness she’d gleaned from his character she might be able to convince him to do the honorable thing. It had been a few weeks since the dreadful incident, and some nights Miranda still cried herself to sleep. Pippa hated the wretched, hollow sounds that came from her friend’s room.

Almost an hour before midnight, Pippa found herself discreetly slipping through the doors of the music room some distance away from the main ballroom, which led to a section of the outside gardens. A few lanterns along the pathway and on overhead strings lit the way, but the area was empty. A chill breeze danced over her, making her shiver, but she did not mind it. As she stared out into the swells and shadows of the gardens her heartbeat escalated to an uncomfortable speed. I am being silly, I cannot take this risk.

With a sigh, she turned around and slammed into a hard form. Shock sent prickles all over her body.

“I see you were just as anxious as me to begin our game,” the duke said with some measure of amusement. “An hour early, Miss Cavanaugh?”

Her nostrils filled with the pleasant scents of tobacco, brandy, and the man himself. “I was about to return inside,” she said with a scowl he would unlikely see for they were obscured in shadows. “I was foolish to come out here.”

This felt too much like a romantic rendezvous.

There was no immediate response to this, but after a few moments, he said, “I wanted to dance with you again.”

“I wish you weren’t so provoking,” she said in a hushed whisper.

“I only speak the truth, Miss Cavanaugh.”

How coolly bemused he sounded. Then he said, “Rook takes e7 bishop.”

Her heart leaped, the pieces of the board imprinting perfectly in her thoughts. “Bishop takes e4 knight,” she murmured thoroughly thrilled with the dratted man.

“Smart,” he praised, slipping his hand around her waist, and fitting her hand atop his shoulder before urging her to sway sensually to the waltz playing in the distance.

“Dancing and playing chess, Your Grace?” Yet she adored it all. Oh, what am I doing?

“I’m a man of numerous talents, Miss Cavanaugh.”

She smiled briefly, ridiculously tempted to move closer to him. As if he sensed her scandalous thoughts, he tugged her closer, swaying her onto the softly padded grass. Her heart tripped with alarming pleasure. “And what else do you enjoy? Aside from playing chess…and dancing of course.” And ruining innocents. Except that reminder felt hollow as if she did not really believe it.

“I like to draw.”

She faltered in his arms completely, recalling the wicked erotic images. “You were the one who did the scandalous drawings?”

“Ah, I’d forgotten you’d peeked at those. How brave and naughty of you to ask, Miss Cavanaugh. Did you by chance think of them often my little thief?”

Her entire body blushed, and it was his turn to falter into astonishing stillness. She considered berating him for his improper remark but decided that it would be wiser to ignore his impertinence. “You are entirely wicked,” she said, recalling the explicit nature of the pictures.

“Will you allow me to kiss you, Miss Cavanaugh?”

She gasped and stared up at him. Yes! But her logical heart said, “I cannot.”

“A pity,” he said with a rueful smile. “It would have been delightful.”

It was then she recalled his promise that he would not take, only if she offered. She stared at him mutely, her heart a wonderful, beating mess. I’ve never been kissed before, she wanted to say. Miranda had laughed gaily while regaling her with tales of how many charming beaux had stolen a few kisses. At those lonely times, Pippa had felt a burst of envy. And now here was this man, a duke no less, staring at her with a naked hunger, as if he was not at all perturbed by desiring to kiss her. With a sigh, she leaned into him, and that was all the motivation he needed. A rough sound slipped from him, and he released her waist to frame her face with his hands, then took possession of her mouth.

It was a simple kiss, a brief exchange of breath, a brush of lips against hers, without demand. It was as if the duke waited for something and when Pippa did not respond, simply because she did not know what he waited for, he licked along the seam of her closed lips. Her lips parted on a soft gasp, and he kissed her with deeper intimacy. The first wicked taste of him was a shock against her senses. An inarticulate murmur slipped from her, and she glided her hand around his neck, thrusting her fingers through his hair.


Tags: Stacy Reid Romance