Page 66 of Duke of Wickedness
And then she turned and headed out to the garden.
CHAPTER 17
David was, in many ways, obviously an idiot, but that didn’t mean he was a fool.
He knew an invitation when he saw one.
The idiocy part came in when it only took him about two seconds to decide that he was going to follow her.
He felt that he had done an admirable job of keeping away from her. He’d gone nearly a week, after all, and not once had he sent her a note asking her to meet him. He haddrafteda few of them, certainly, but he’d always come to his senses before he sent them. And if he threw them in the fire as a precaution against his wavering conviction? That was just pragmatic.
He was getting rather good at self-denial. And self-delusion, perhaps, because herefusedto admit that he had come here tonight because he wanted to see her.
He had tried to stay away. He really, really had. Even when she’d looked at him, even when he’d seen how bloody beautiful she looked in that vibrant color. He was proud of her for that choice, proud that she refused to fade into the background just because it was what Society demanded of its young women. He wanted to tell her, desperately. He wanted to show her.
He hadn’t. He’d been good. He’d beensogood—and he was not a man naturally inclined to goodness. He’d been resolute as she’d laughed with her friend, looking so goddamn pretty in her joy. He’d stayed strong as she’d danced with other men, even when he felt himself nearly overwhelmed with the urge to steal her away for himself.
The moment she tried to tempt him, the moment she very intentionally taunted him with the possibility…
That was when he broke.
“Hello, little bird,” he said quietly as he came up behind her. She was pretending to smell a flower, but even in the dim light cast by the moon, David could see that it was just a common poppy, which didn’t smell of anything at all. He could only conclude, therefore, that she was doing this because it pushed her arse in his direction at an extremely flattering angle.
This was what he got for teaching her about seduction, apparently. She learned how to bloody seduce him.
She shot him a coy look over her shoulder. The little smirk was pure mischief.
She was truly going to be the end of him.
“Good evening,” she said. “Fine night for a walk, don’t you think?”
It was a spectacularly fine night for a walk, actually, one of those beautiful, perfect spring nights where the air was balmy and the gentle, droning hum of insects blended into the chatter of voices as they moved away from the party and closer to the manicured thickets of trees.
He followed her like this was Hamelin and she the Pied Piper. She touched flowers as she passed with featherlight grazes, and he wondered if he would be able to smell their fragrance on her skin when he reached her. Lavender. Honeysuckle. Peony.
“Ariadne,” he said when he knew they were far enough from the crowd that nobody would hear him using her given name. God, it felt good to say. He hadn’t uttered it all week.
He hadn’t beenallowedto say it, because nobody knew about the two of them, and nobody could, not ever. The idea stung all the more every time he considered it.
“Hm?” she asked absently, not stopping in her idle perusal of the garden’s splendor.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
What are you doing to me? he thought.
She turned to face him, then. She bit her lip teasingly as she kept moving, this time backward, and it was charming and tempting and precious, yes, but David was also full of the stupid, consuming worry that she would trip and fall and hurt herself.
He should turn back. He should return to the ball.
He knew he wouldn’t, though.
“I’m taking a walk,” she said sweetly, smile bright. “What are you doing?”
He reached out and grabbed her, first by the wrist, then around the waist, stopping her from retreating further. He took the hand that had touched the flowers and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss in the center of her palm. Lavender. Just like he had thought.
“David,” she murmured. Her voice was no longer as unaffected as it had been a moment ago.
It was absurd, really, how easily this woman got under his skin. At least he seemed to have a similar effect on her. It was scant balm on his pride, which had taken a beating every day since he’d first started spending time with Ariadne Lightholder.
