Page 4 of A Villain for a Duke

A dash of color splashed onto the painting before him, caught his attention.Only it wasn’t a painting.It was the window.And beyond the window was a woman.

He sat upright.She was real.

He stood and put his hand on the windowpane.

Shewas real.She was laughing with her head thrown back, a few loose blonde tresses flowing in the wind like a ribbon.Holding her hand was a little girl he knew to be the daughter to the countess.The girl was looking up in admiration.Then the woman stopped and scooped the girl up.She spun around, holding the girl out in her arms.The two of them laughed, and then they ended the twirl in an embrace.

That woman and her joy was real.And she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.Thoughts stilled as time passed.As she moved across the canvas in radiant joy.As she moved out of sight, he found himself wanting to follow her movements more.

Her beauty startled him.But it wasn’t just physical.There was something about her…the image of her being so carefree.She exuded kindness.Authenticity.Down to earth, yet…angelic.

She didn’t look the kind to be burdened by metaphysics and the nature of reality.Those questions and their ilk were Michael’s cross to bear.He couldn’t shake them.He needed answers.And when he couldn’t resolve a question, which, in philosophy was often the case, he was plagued by the pursuit of them.Ever searching.Reading on until something finally clicked, and he could breathe.The world made sense again.It could be organized.It wasn’t pure chaos.

Not like he knew the chaos this house party might be.Well, not chaos.That might be too harsh.It would be lively.More lively than Michael preferred.But sometimes a duke had to show up to certain events.Be at certain places.Be seen with certain people.Eventually he did need a wife.It wouldn’t help his case if he acted the recluse he was inclined to be.

He wanted to see more of her.Catch sight of her delight again.Perhaps because it vaguely reminded him of a time he had known such joy.That was not a thought he wished to explore.

Chapter 3

AFTERTHECRISPAFTERNOONspent outside, Astrid felt refreshed for the evening’s activities.Dinner had been lovely, and now music was playing for some of the couples to take a turn on the dance floor.

“You were right, Isaac.Dancing on our first night.”Astrid nudged her brother in the ribs.“So who are you going to ask to dance?”

Isaac shrugged.As his eyes tracked the dancers, they stopped on one couple.The woman had her back to them, but her hair was raven black.Astrid could sense Isaac’s body still, as if he were holding his breath but trying to appear as though he weren’t.

When the couple turned and revealed the woman, Isaac exhaled.

“No one here of particular interest for me.”

“I’m not surprised,” Astrid said somewhat smugly.She didn’t elaborate on that point—the point being that she knew who her brother was in love with and was denying himself—because the most handsome man she had ever met was approaching her.

His eyes were glints of coal.Dark.With the potential to combust.And his dark hair was swept back in a humble manner.But there was nothing humble about how his frame filled out his jacket and trousers.The man cut the finest figure she could ever imagine trailing her fingers along.Her body’s reaction was spontaneous and almost unmanageable.

When his gaze met hers, she squeezed her legs together, in a futile attempt to retain the heat leaking out of her.

“Isaac,” the man greeted her brother, but she felt the tone of his voice hum around her.If it vibrated long enough, it would quite possibly burrow into her bones.

“Michael,” Isaac’s eyes continued to scan the room, “are you up for some piquet?”

Michael lightly cleared his throat.“I’ve come to ask for an introduction.I believe this lady is your sister?”

The heat was everywhere now.Between her legs.Running down behind her knees.Her chest.God, that felt heavy.And her face.Surely, it was flushed.She couldn’t remember the last time she had experienced such a physiological reaction to someone.

Fleetingly, Isaac’s eyes had widened at the request, but then a small smile crept onto his face.“Didn’t take you for much of a dancer, Michael.”

“Didn’t take you for much of a busybody.Isaac.”He said her brother's name an octave lower than the rest.At the sound, her nipples poked into the fabric of her bodice.

“Michael, may I introduce my little sister, Lady Astrid?Astrid, the Duke of Tinsder.”

Unnecessarily, he emphasizedmy little sister.Irritated at the excessive protectiveness, Astrid lifted her hand for a light kiss.

“May I have this dance?”

“Yes.”She hadn’t meant to answer breathlessly, but there was no way around it.Her hand in his was doing indelible rearrangements inside of her, and her vocal chords were among the most rattled and displaced.

The man was stone.But hot stone.Like rocks made from lava.Intense.She couldn’t look away from his eyes.With each spin, each step in the waltz, there was only him.And only her.In his arms, she felt like the only woman in the world.With her hand in his, she felt as though she could follow him anywhere.And the possessive touch on her back…she shivered.That touch would be all too easy to crave.She wasn’t the kind to believe in love at first sight, but who was she to argue with herself if she was currently experiencing it?

They were moving to the music, but to their own beat.Their heartbeats.Intertwined.Surely, even fate herself was surprised at the magnetism pulling her soul to his.

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