Page 21 of The Duke Says I Do
Pleasure flooded him, swamping his well-founded doubts. “You like me?”
She frowned. “I just kissed you.”
“That doesn’t mean you like me.”
“I’m not in the habit of kissing men I don’t like.”
His faint snort would surprise his straitlaced society acquaintances. “Portia, you’re not in the habit of kissing anyone.”
It was the first time that he’d used her name without her courtesy title. Did she notice?
“No, but if I was, I’d restrict myself to people I like. I wouldn’t have kissed you yesterday.”
How could he resist her? He caught her chin and turned her face to kiss her again. Another blast of heady sweetness. This time, her lips moved beneath his. It was an effort to pull away without pursuing the contact. “Then I’m grateful we didn’t meet yesterday.”
She looked tousled and confused – and bewitching – as she struggled to focus on his face. “That was nice.”
“It will only get nicer.”
“Oh?” The syllable expressed a curiosity that made his blood heat.
“You know, it’s going to be nigh impossible to act like a polite stranger when we meet in public.”
To his surprise, she looked disappointed. “You won’t dance with me?”
His lips twitched. For a man who was a novice at teasing, he was getting into the habit. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Remember to put on the long-suffering expression you always wear, or people will know things between us have changed.”
She gave a quick laugh. “And you must look so bored, you’re asleep on your feet.”
“I’m sure I didn’t.”
“I’m sure you did.”
He was sure he did, too. Dancing with his prospective bride’s harum-scarum sister had always counted as a duty, not a pleasure. Now the danger lay in concealing how much pleasure she gave him. “Strange that one day makes all the difference.”
When her hand squeezed his, the action transformed to poignant emotion squeezing his heart. How puzzling. “Strange indeed.”
They stared at each other. Granville saw his longing reflected in her lovely eyes. He was on the verge of kissing her again when Jupiter’s faint growl warned them that their privacy ended.
“Good boy,” Granville murmured, releasing Portia’s hand and rising.
He patted the dog. By the time Sheriff and Phipps appeared at the stable door, he and Portia stood several feet apart, looking as innocent as lambs. Or at least Granville hoped so.
Chapter 6
She’d kissed a man. More than once. She’d liked it. Very much. She’d promised to kiss the man again.
How astonishing.
Yet the most astonishing element of the day wasn’t that Portia discovered a pastime to vie with her interest in stray animals. It was that the man she’d kissed was the almighty bore and self-righteous prig, the Duke of Granville.
Except it turned out, he wasn’t boring at all. Nor was he the slightest bit self-righteous. He was kind and sweet and funny. And endearingly shy.
Which might explain his haughty manner in public.
