Page 15 of The Duke's Goddess

“Actually,” James started and paused. And Joan knew that he was giving her time to step in and decline the offer that she knewhe was going to make. How she could read this man so quickly and easily already was terrifying. “Since Joan is hydrated now, we will have this dance together.”

And there it was. The exact response she had been formulating in her mind. Despite their differences, it was apparent that James shared one invaluable trait with Joan. Loyalty. James wanted Jacob to win the girl, so he wasn’t about to get in the way of that. And Joan was loyal to Sally’s reputation, and despite her friend’s lapse in judgment, she wasn’t about to let her make a foolish mistake.

One might think that Joan was about to make a foolish mistake by dancing with the rake she was trying to protect Sally from. They would be wrong. There was one clear difference between Joan and Sally. Joan wasn’t halfway in love with James. And she never would be.

It was one dance. Yes, there may be a little bit of gossip, but nothing that Joan couldn’t diffuse. It was an intimate ball, her brother-in-law was a duke, and she was simply dancing with one of her brother-in-law's best friends.

So, with that reassurance…validation…justification…excuse…Joan said, “Yes, that was what we decided.” And she took James's hand making their way to the floor, leaving Sally all alone. Well, now that wasn’t true. She was soon to be in Jacob’s ever-loving care.

“Don’t say it,” Joan preempted James'sI told you sobefore he could produce the four disdainful words.

He chuckled. “Well, I did say—”

“You’re saying it.”

“It can’t be helped. It’s rare when a man gets to prove a woman wrong, isn’t it?” His smirk was just enough teasing, just enough affection, just enough arrogance to be just a little irksome. But somehow it was doing things to her heart as well. Things like melting it.

Serendipitously, James took that moment to twirl her, giving her a chance to catch her breath and collect her liquifying insides.

When she spun back to face him, she decided to concede his point. “Well, if you’re going to say it that way, I suppose I can accept to hear it.”

“Wonderful,” —he paused, exhaled to savor the moment, and then blurted out— “I told you so.”

A small chuckle escaped her lips unbidden. “I know when to admit my mistakes. I was wrong. I’m rather shocked to admit it, though I’m more startled to witness it—since I’ve known Sally for ages. But my friend is not as predictable as I once thought.”

“Is anyone?”

“I don’t mindsaying that I’m quite predictable.” Besides her secret pastime and hidden token, she was quite predictable. It was not a trial to confess that.

“Are you?”

“Yes. I think I should know myself.”

“Would you have predicted that you would be dancing with me tonight?”

Her steps faltered. Damn this man. She really did not want him to be right twice in her presence, and so close together.

Silence was probably the best approach. That is, until he chuckled. And pressed his hand more firmly into her back. A nudge, if there ever was one. A nudge to encourage her to admit yet another mistake. A nudge that brought her an inch or two closer to him. A nudge that she wanted to ignore but couldn’t.

“Fine.” She huffed. “You are right. Again. I’m the cautious one. Predictable—usually—and I’m always watching out for the people around me.”

“If you’re busy doing that, then who’s watching out for you?”

An excellent question. Really, one that she should be asking herself. “Boudicca.” She sighed. “Any of my sisters, but more often than not it has been Boudicca.” She let her eyes scan the room for her newly wedded sister. She was nowhere to be seen for this dance. Likely she had snuck away with Wes for…a moment alone. Joan didn’t permit her mind to consider the intimacies between the two of them. Especially not right now while she was in the arms of a handsome rake. She was allowed to say that. His physical achievements were undeniable.

“She’s married now. That changes things.” James interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes, that’s very perceptive of you.”

“I’m a very perceptive man.”

“So I’ve perceived.”

His light chuckle rumbled through his fingers. The warm, strong fingers holding her and leading her through a waltz. And she couldn’t help but appreciate how good it felt to make a man laugh. Any man? Or this man? She wasn’t sure about the answerto that question. But at the very least, it was alight, frilly, feathery feeling to be able to make this man laugh.

“What are we going to do about our friends?” he asked and then swung her away from him, only to bring her back a second later. Truly, he was an elegant dancer.

“Should we do anything?” She didn’t really mean it, but she wanted to ask the question anyway.

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