Page 39 of Dance with the Dragon Duke

She’d been worried that once they were alone again, he’d press her about their relationship, but he hadn’t. No, it was worse than that. He touched her instead, tempting her with affection and nearness and his damnable striking presence. He’d replaced questions she couldn’t answer with seduction she couldn’t give in to.

Her toes were ice in her boots, and she was at great risk of chipping a tooth with the way they chattered, but she refused to take further advantage of this good man.

“You are not fine,” he grumbled.

Every time temptation reared its beguiling head, she just thought of the hurt on his face from last night and the urge to give in to him vanished. “I’ll s-survive.”

“You’re being ridiculous. We share a blasted bed, for the divines’ sakes.” Dark left his seat, and the cab lurched briefly as he planted himself next to her.

Warmth swamped her side. She gritted her teeth, fighting against the desire to lean against him. She scooted as close to the curtained window as the small space allowed. “We do share a bed, but— Oh.”

His tail slunk beneath her blanket and gathered around her middle, as soothing as a hot water bottle. Unable to fight it, she laid her hands against the scaled length, warming them.

Dark hissed through his teeth. “Gods, your poor little fingers. Are you trying to make them fall off?”

He hunted under the quilt and found her hands, swallowing them in his pleasantly balmy grip.

Sighing, Tomorrow’s head fell back against the seat. “Ugh. Please stop being so nice to me. I really don’t deserve it.”

He laughed at her. They bumped along the cobblestone street, and after a few minutes, she didn’t need the quilt anymore. Dark’s tail had warmed her to a more comfortable temperature. She let the blanket fall to her lap. Her hands no longer required his, but she didn’t have the will to reclaim them.

Craning her neck, she stared at the window, realizing belatedly that the curtains were still fully closed. She probably looked like an idiot, staring dumbly at fabric. She really should let go of him now.

As though he heard her thoughts, he laced their fingers together, staking his claim.

“We’re almost there now,” she said, trying to tug free.

Dark lifted her right hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. The reminder of his hot touches from the prior day made her stomach bottom out.

“We’ve a while to go yet,” he said drolly.

And he was right.

Maybe right? She’d suddenly lost the ability to tell time.

His next kiss was at the sensitive juncture between her thumb and forefinger. Another brushed across the bed of her thumbnail. After that, he turned her hand over and kissed the pad of her palm languidly. A tremor went down her arm, but it had nothing to do with the winter weather.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Acting the way a courting gentleman would.”

“There’s no one in here to benefit from your acting,” she reminded him.

He ignored her, pressing his lips to the pad of her thumb and working his way down the digit to the center of her palm.

“Dark,” she said through her teeth.

His eyes shifted toward her briefly. “Speak your piece,” he said, then his lips teased the pulse at her wrist.

Her lashes fluttered. Words failed her momentarily. “Please stop trying to seduce me.”

“Hm . . .” His mouth in a twist, he acted as though he were giving the matter great thought. “No.” He kissed the pulse at her wrist again, then followed an invisible trail down her arm.

Her skin pebbled, and something molten spread through her belly. She pressed her thighs together. “Dark,” she squeaked, “stop trying to seduce me, or I’ll make you walk to Westarow.”

His laughter vibrated against the sensitive inner flesh of her arm. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Fine, then.” She jerked her arm free. “Quit it, orI’llwalk to the estate by myself.”

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