Page 33 of A Bride for the Rakish Duke

“In that gown, you will not be going anywhere,” he murmured, biting his lip as he inhaled the tortuous scent of her. Verbena and lavender and something warmer, more seductive that he could not name.

She smiled but still would not look at him. “Oh, so you like it?”

“Like it?” He could not begin to describe the effect it was having on him, not with so many eyes on them.

I like it so much that I will feel simply awful when I tear it off you…

“This is not you,” he said instead, bending lower until his lips were so close to her neck that he could sense her pulse. “Who has urged you to do this, kitten? You have not broken one of my rules, have you?”

He had received a letter from her two days ago informing him that his mother had come to the manor to offer her congratulations. She had also told him that it was nothing she could not deal with herself. Now, he was beginning to wish he had ridden back to his estate… but then he would not have been blessed with the glorious sight of her in this gown.

“I have not, my feral tomcat,” she replied, tilting her neck slightly. A subtle gesture exposing that delicate skin to his lips, as if daring him to kiss it. “I wrote to you, like you asked. My being here has nothing to do with her. It was my choice, for I rather thought I let you slip away too easily.”

He swallowed thickly. “Does that mean you are trying to make things hard for me?”

“All I am trying to do is watch the opera,” she replied in a casual tone that made him want to burst with frustration. He would have taken a quarrel over that tormenting indifference.

At last, she turned, her face so close to his that it took everything he possessed not to kiss her right then and there. Her lips curled into a teasing smile as she whispered, “If you do notlike the gown, I shall not purchase another like it.” Her eyes gleamed, mischief sparkling. “There, my darling husband, are you satisfied?”

“Not at all,” he growled, gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles whitened. She was not supposed to be a temptress. Worse, he was not supposed to fall for it.

She put her finger to her lips. “Hush now, Wolfie, and retreat to your seat. The performance is about to begin.”

As if she had commanded it, the lights all around the auditorium were dimmed to darkness, and the footlights on the stage flared into life. The curtains swung back to reveal the first scene, and a robust woman in a draped, Roman-style gown began to sing in a shivering soprano.

She could have been singing in English instead of Italian, and William still would not have understood a word; he was too fixated on the minx that was, somehow, his wife.

I suspect the performance began just before you entered the box, kitten.

For this Lydia was not the one he had left behind. This was an otherworldly being, come to torture him with her dismissals.

But two could play that game.

Sliding his hand along the back of the chair, his fingertips lightly grazed the back of her neck. She shivered a little, sitting up straighter.

Above the sound of the tenor who had just begun to sing, William took his chair and placed it directly next to Lydia. He sat down and did not glance at her, spreading his legs wider so that his thigh had no choice but to press against hers.

One sideways peek at her bosom, and he saw what he had hoped to see—her breath had quickened.

He could not resist leaning in. “I will pay for your gown.”

“It is paid for,” she replied in that same infuriatingly casual tone.

“Not this one,” he said, undeterred. “You will need a replacement.”

She raised an eyebrow. “If you like it, why would I need a replacement?”

“Because there will be nothing left of it when you finally allow me into your bed,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to that sensitive nape of hers.

He caressed the soft skin, his loins burning with a vengeance unlike anything he had ever experienced as a faint gasp slipped past her lips.

“Do you remember what mask I was wearing the night we met?” he said.

Her throat moved in a swallow. “You know I do, Wolfie.”

She kept calling him that. He would have to put a stop to it but not right now.

“If you unleash a beast in me, kitten, do not expect your fine garments to be spared. There will be no time for careful unbuttoning when you say the word that I may have you. I will strip you bare and bask in the glory of what lies before me. I will?—”

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