Page 24 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
His expression tightened, and he lunged forward to take her hand. “Juliet, no, sweetheart, never think that.”
He’d touched her when they’d rehearsed. He’d taken her arm to escort her into dinner. Every time, the impact was like thunder.
But this? This was like an earthquake. Because this wasn’t a polite gesture. This was skin meeting skin, heat flowing through the contact, a man claiming a woman he wanted.
Heaven forgive her, Juliet hungered for more. Even worse, she wanted him to call her sweetheart again, however little the endearment meant.
“You have no right to use my Christian name.” She jerked free. Because she might be innocent, but she knew that holding his hand opened the door to further intimacies.
To her surprise, he let her go with another of those mocking smiles. “I call you Juliet all the time.”
“In the play.”
“And in my dreams.”
She’d been on edge since he’d arrived. Not an altogether unpleasant sensation, although she wished it was. Now, fear chilled the wanton heat in her blood.
“Stop it.” She retreated, bumping into the wooden frame under Juliet’s balcony. “You don’t have to act the lover now.”
“I’m not playing.”
“Neither am I.” She sounded like she meant it, thank heaven. “I’m going back to the house, and I don’t want to be alone with you ever again.”
He bowed his head. “As you wish.”
His show of cooperation, when she knew he’d go on playing this game infuriated her. Instead of leaving, she decided to stay to set him to rights. “This can go nowhere. Do you think I’ll lie down with you, just for the sake of a wink? You’ve been away from England too long, if that’s the case.”
Her scolding didn’t quash his impudence. Amusement sparked in his eyes. “Perhaps you should wait until I ask you.”
Her temper spiked. “So you’re saying this…this campaign you’re waging is all in my imagination?”
“You know it’s not.” This time, when he took her hand, she didn’t pull away. “Come and sit by me. We’ll talk.”
“Talk?” she repeated on a rising note. “You don’t want to talk.”
More of that dratted attractive self-derision twisted his lips. “Of course I do.”
“You want to seduce me.”
By now, she should know better than to try and shame him into retreat. He nodded. “That, too.”
“You won’t succeed.” She winced at the false bravado in her voice.
“I’ll take note,” he said with a solemnity that made her want to kick him.
“You’re wasting your time.”
“It’s my time.” His voice turned to velvety inducement. “And haven’t you, too, longed to be with me? What makes you so nervous isn’t that I want you. I’m sure many men have wanted you. You’re beautiful and precious and fine. No. What makes you so jumpy in my company is that, on this occasion,youwant a man. You want me.”
***
Evesham waited for a denial. But not for the first time, he’d underestimated her.
Juliet Frain was brave and forthright. Never coy. So instead of calling him a liar, her lips turned down in self-disgust. “Of course I do. You’re irresistible. But then you know that, plague take you. You rely upon your charm never failing.”
He knew that her anger was turned in on herself rather than on him, although she wasn’t much in charity with him either. But despite the satisfaction of hearing her confess her attraction, something about her response stung.
His grip on her hand firmed. “You make everything sound so contrived.”
