Page 44 of The Duke of Aces
Tom flipped over the six of clubs.
She had won! She jumped to her feet. Elation at beating the Duke of Aces.
Tom rose and walked over to the settee in front of the fire. “I’m ready for your inquisition, my dear.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
His future wifetread lightly. Tom had to concentrate to even detect Isadora’s approach. She would make a fine spy—but would she want to be an agent for the Crown? His original plan for a marriage of convenience allowed for them both to lead separate lives, but now the idea of not sharing every aspect of his life left him feeling ill.
Standing before him with the glow of the fire behind her, Tom’s mind cleared of all thought, and his pulse raced in reaction to the beautiful woman in front of him. He ached to reach out and disrobe her. Have his way with her. She was an innocent. An innocent with a very serious look set upon her features.
Isadora began to pace, tapping her forefinger to her lower lip. “Shall I begin?”
“Please do.” Tom straightened his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles.
“As a child, were you aware of your parents’ activities?” She stopped a few feet away from him.
Interesting she would inquire about his childhood. With Isadora out of arm’s reach, Tom was able to focus on his answer. “At the age of ten, my parents sat me down and had a rather frank discussion about the choices they had made and intended to continue to make. They gave me a choice: go to Eaton and make friends or remain at home and be tutored in preparation to join the Foreign Office. As a boy in his youth, I jumped at the opportunity to learn sleuthing and combat skills. It also meant I had to master how to dance, embroider, and become proficient at painting in watercolors.”
“Embroidery. Watercolors.” Isadora repeated. Her even tone revealed nothing of her opinions on either activity.
He rolled to his feet and took a step toward her. He needed to be closer to observe her reaction to his next statement. “Aye. Codes are embedded in pieces all the time.”
His gaze fell to her décolleté as she wound her arms behind her back. “Hmm. What if your chosen bride is a miserable seamstress and terrible painter?”
“I shall tutor her myself.” He forced himself to remain right where he was. He refrained from reaching out and grabbing her to him by the waist. Now was not the time to indulge in his wicked, wicked fantasies that plagued him each night.
Isadora rolled onto her toes and asked, “Do you always excel at everything?”
Damn, her sweet mouth was so close. She wished for answers, not kisses. Tom banished his devilish desires and answered, “I failed spectacularly at convincing you to allow me to court you.” He meant it to be a teasing statement, but his words came out humorless.
With a slight tilt of her head, Isadora replied, “Is that so?”
The exposed skin of Isadora’s neck had Tom clasping his hands tightly behind his back and inhaling deeply. Another mistake. The scent of lilacs set him on edge.
Isadora continued, oblivious to the effect she was having on him. “And here I thought you had decided not to pursue my hand after our private interlude.” Isadora closed the gap between them and trailed a finger along the seam of his jacket.
She must think him a lout. “My apologizes, I should not have taken such liberties…”
Isadora placed a finger over his lips. “You have a tell, Your Grace, when you are lying, and I can see you are not one bit remorseful for your actions.”
He wasn’t. He waited for her to remove her finger and then wrapped his arms about her waist. Wishing he could reenact the night in his study, he let one hand slide lower to cover her lush bottom. “You are extremely observant. Share with me, what is my tell?”
She wound one arm around his neck. “Just before you utter a lie you clench your jaw and if I look closely here…” She brought her free hand up and placed a finger up to his temple and then ran it along his jawline. “I can see your muscles move ever so slightly.”
“That’s not why I was clenching my jaw.” He spied a devilish twinkle in Isadora’s gaze as she peered up at him.
“Why were you?”
He tugged her closer. “Standing inches from your lips takes every ounce of my self-restraint not to kiss you…I have to exert every shred of willpower not to drag you to the floor and have my way with you.” The minx massaged the back of his neck.
“Ahh… I understand. Your gentlemanly honor prevents you from taking my maidenhead, but do you want to kiss me?”
“Yes.” He dipped his head lower but not all the way. “I desperately want to kiss you, but first we need to address your concerns, and I need your agreement to marry.”
Slinging her other arm around his neck, she stared into his eyes and said, “Very well, I shall ask my second question. Do you intend to continue to carry out your activities for the Crown after we are wed?”
Fear rippled down his spine. What was the right answer? He swallowed and spoke the truth. “I do.”
