Page 42 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
But when she went to pull back, he caught her wrist. Holding her gaze, he brought her hand back to his mouth, and closed his lips around her thumb.
It was as if an electric shock had gone through her.
At her little gasp, his lips twitched into a smirk, and he released her. She glanced about to see if anyone had noticed the intimate interaction between two males. No one seemed to care.
She realized that, were she an actual man, this would be the ideal place to be seen touching Thorne.
But shewasn’ta man, and she was tired of the pretext. At least with him.
The fact he’d admitted to wanting towooher, despite not imagining himself with another man, told Kit that whateverthiswas between them…it was honest. He liked her forher, not because of her body or what she looked like. If anything, he liked her despite it—he was a duke, and dukes needed heirs. It was the most honest attraction she’d experienced…and the least she could do was be honest with him.
But how?
After this long, how to tell himOh by the way, I’m actually a woman?
Best just to get it said. “Thorne, I—”
A heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Thorne reacted faster than she’d thought possible, whirling about and breaking the stranger’s hold. But his eyes lit up when he saw the heavyset older woman standing behind him.
“Molly, love, how are ye?”
Her smile was full of genuine fondness. “I thought you’d forgotten us, dearie. I hope you still remember how to dance?”
Molly didn’t give Thorne time to say no, pulling him from the table. Laughing, he sent Kit a shrug and followed the woman out to the dancefloor.
Kit grinned as she watched them go. Yes, she’d been enjoying Thorne’s company, but she couldn’t deny that he’d wanted to dance, and watching the pair was an education.
Thorne had said he loved to dance, and his happiness was obvious. He spun, he twirled, he stomped, keeping time in an elaborate dance with the larger woman. The pair had clearly danced together before, each of them taking turns leading and following, and chatting when they were together.
And Kit found she didn’t mind watching them, nor the others in the room. The dance hall was full of people who were genuinely enjoying themselves, and there was something uplifting in that. This was so unlike the staid and stuffy Society events Mother had dragged her to over the years to bask in the honors from some opera-loving sponsor, where Kit could barely move in the corsets and bustles.
Her knee was bouncing, her fingers tapping along with the lively fiddler, and she realized she wasjealous. She wanted to dance as well.
You only know the woman’s part.
Yes, but that would be a problem here.
“Come along, darling!” The voice at her side caused Kit to jerk sideways, her reaction far less smooth and seamless than Thorne’s. “Youmustdance at least once!”
The hand which grabbed hers was larger, but the nails were manicured. Kit’s gaze followed the arm until it reached the cheerful smile of the woman standing over her. Molly’s opposite, this woman was slender and tall, her dark hair swept into a style a few years out of date.
She tugged, and Kit found herself rising. “Apologies, madam, I don’t dance,” she said stiffly with a little bow.
But the woman—her hair was almost too dark to be natural, her face heavy with makeup—merelytskedand pulled Kit toward her. “Impossible. This is adance hall, darling, and your escort has been rude enough to leave you. So you’ll dance with me. I’m Evie.”
Kit was certain her brows were near her hairline as Evie yanked her forward, plastering her against the taller woman. “No, I— Sorry, I can’t—”
“Hush, darling,” Evie commanded, placing her hand on Kit’s shoulder, waiting to be swept into the rousing two-step the band was playing.
Kit felt herself flushing again, and she lowered her voice to a hiss. “I don’tknowthis. I don’t know the steps.”I don’t know the man’s part.
Something likeinterestflickered in Evie’s eyes, and she switched her hold, dropping her hand to Kit’s hip and pulling her closer. “I’ll lead, darling, try to keep up.”
And just like that, Evie launched into movement, dragging Kit along…dancing the man’s part.
At least Kit knew this dance as a woman.
They swung past a laughing Thorne, who did a double-take when he saw Kit’s position. And then they were across the room, and Evie was leading the steps masterfully. Kit twirled out—which felt strange as hell in a suit—and back, and realized what it was that had struck her as so odd about the woman dancing with her.
