Page 6 of Wedded to the Sinful Duke

Jonathan’s interest was barely masked by his polite façade, despite the word she had used. “I’m afraid I have very little time to read. If you need a recommendation, Miss Danforth, I am not the source you need.”

“Have you seen Lady Miranda?” Rebecca asked, seizing the chance to try and change the topic once again.

At that point, Jonathan was not listening any longer. He had spotted a familiar face in the crowd, Lady Elizabeth Finnegan, a striking beauty with whom he had shared more than just flirtation in the past. She locked eyes with him, giving him a subtle yet unmistakable signal to follow her.

His blood boiled at the thought of making this garden party a little more interesting. He didn’t need to be asked twice. He watched her disappear through a small, garden path, her fiery red dress trailing behind her, like a passionate invitation. A mischievous smile crept across his lips as he turned to his cousin, already crafting an excuse in his mind.

“My Ladies, I have just remembered that I need to discuss something with Lord Fitzwilliam. Urgent business, you know.”

His cousin raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical at this sudden realization. “Really? Right now?”

He nodded, trying to appear honest. “Yes, right now. I will be back shortly. I promise.”

Before she could protest, he slipped away, weaving through the guests with practiced ease. He knew that she was probably watching him go, shaking her head in exasperation. But he didn’t care about that right now. He navigated the throng of guests with a sense of anticipation as he followed Lady Elizabeth’s trail, expecting something illicit.

Now where could she have gone?

CHAPTER 3

The sight of the small pond soothed Ciara. She could not hear the chatter of the guests any longer. The quiet, serene setting was a welcome escape from the judgmental whispers and curious stares. Bending over the pond, she cupped her hands and splashed the cool water onto her neck, letting the chill calm her racing heart.

As she stood up, she inhaled, gazing at the surface of the pond, mirroring the sun high up above. She began to sing softly, her voice barely louder than the gentle rustling of the leaves.

Close your eyes, my darling dear,

Let the stars above be near,

Dream of fields of emerald green,

Where troubles fade and hearts are seen.

It was an old Irish lullaby, one her grandmother used to sing to her every night before Ciara would drift off to sleep. After a moment, she leaned against a sturdy tree, closing her eyes. The cool breeze against her back was grounding, reminding her of the strength she had within. She focused on her breathing, in and out, letting the song’s gentle rhythm guide her thoughts away from the party.

“I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice.”

Before she could even open her eyes to see who the deep baritone belonged to, she felt two strong hands lock around her waist, pulling her into a kiss.

It was a kiss of claiming someone, of awakening deep, slumbering desire that thundered through her body with the strength of an avalanche. His lips crashed against hers as if they had kissed a million times before. Without thinking, her body melted into his own, without a single thought regarding the danger they were in.

His hands were on her waist, keeping her close to him as her hands flew around his neck. She had no idea what was happening. All she knew was that she didn’t want to be anywhere else. He angled his head and completely took control of her body, of her mind. When he gently sucked at her lower lip, her mind was obliterated. Her insides were on fire as she moaned softly against his lips, not even realizing that she was doing it.

For a moment, she let herself get lost in the kiss, in the way his mouth moved against hers, the way his body pressed close to hers. It was intoxicating, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once. Her hands found their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his clothes, anchoring herself as the intensity of the kiss grew.

Then, as quickly as it had happened, he pulled back, leaving her breathing heavily and with her heart still racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. However, his hand still lingered on the small of her back.

Her eyes now wide open; she could immediately see that he was a stranger. A devilishly handsome stranger but a stranger, nonetheless. Her lips still tingled from the passionate kiss he had just given her, and she knew that her cheeks were flaring from his proximity. Dark curls fell over his forehead, and he stared at her with his chiseled chin and jaw, giving him the appearance of a Greek god.

“Well, you are not Elizabeth,” he grinned in obvious pleasure, “but I can’t say I am complaining.”

Fully regaining her composure, she pushed him away, creating what appeared to be only a semblance of safe distance between them. She could only hope that he couldn’t hear the thundering of her heart and what their kiss had done to her.

The man stood tall and well-built, exuding a commanding presence. His black hair, neatly styled, contrasted strikingly with his dark blue eyes that gleamed with intensity and intelligence.High cheekbones and a strong jawline gave his face a chiseled, aristocratic look while his impeccable attire and confident bearing completed the picture of a refined and powerful gentleman.

“What on earth were you thinking?” she managed to gasp, refusing to acknowledge how handsome he was, still inflamed from the kiss, a passion that only seemed to make her fury even more potent.

“Come on, darling. Do not act as though you were raised in a nunnery,” the man purred, his eyes dark and mysterious.

“How did you know?” she gasped, feeling as if someone had punched her in the stomach.

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