Page 2 of My Secret Duke
He waited for her response, but she didn’t know what to say. Surely a kiss between friends was acceptable? But Olivia was wise enough to know that this entire situation wasunacceptable. She was alone with an unmarried gentleman who was no relative of hers, and now he wanted tokissher?
“I don’t think…” she tried again.
He sighed. “Olivia, aren’t you confident of winning? I thought you were an expert. You disappoint me.”
He was playing games with her, tempting her to take up his wager, and despite knowing it, Olivia couldn’t help but be stung by his dismissal of her skill. Shewasgood at billiards. She played with her sisters at Grantham and always won. Why shouldn’t she win this time, and show Ivo he had seriously underestimated her? She imagined the expression on his face and was persuaded.
“What doIget when I win?” she demanded.
His smile tipped up at the corners, showing the dimples in his cheeks. “What do you want, Olivia?”
He was brazen, probably because he was so certain he would be the winner in their game. Well, she would show him… Olivia thought a moment while he waited. Despite his careless manner, he seemed to be holding his breath.
She glanced down at the thumb ring he wore. She had noticed it before, a heavy gold band with a dull red stone set in it. “Your ring,” she said.
He gave a crack of surprised laughter and twisted the ring on his thumb. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to refuse her. What if the ring was valuable, or hadsentimental attachment for him? But before she could recant, he shrugged and said, “As you wish. A kiss for me and a ring for you. Shall we begin?”
The game was intense. They played as if their lives depended on the outcome, and Ivo’s muffled curse when he missed a shot was echoed by Olivia’s groan when she missed another. As she bent over the table, deliberating a complicated maneuver, he came and stood beside her. She could feel the warmth of his body, and as he began to roll up the sleeves of his white shirt, her gaze strayed to his bared forearms. How could a man’s arms be so interesting? Lean and muscular, tanned so that the smattering of fair hair was almost invisible.
She was so fixated she did not notice him lean down until his laughing whisper tickled her ear.
“Are you taking your shot, Olivia?”
She jerked her head back to the ball lined up before her cue. “You are trying to distract me,” she said, knowing she was blushing again. “It won’t work.”
He laughed quietly, and she missed the shot.
Then it was his turn.
Olivia studied him as he bent over the table. Hard muscled legs in tight pantaloons, his hip jutting as he leaned in, his broad shoulders shifting as he took aim. A voice in her head told her to leave and return to the music room, but it was as if she was held in place. This was one of the most exciting moments of her life, and she didn’t want it to end. Ivo hadn’t just challenged her to this game, he was challenging her in other ways too. He was flirtatious and playful, and the obvious admiration in his green eyes was very flattering to a girl who had never had a male admirer.
She considered whether she was courageous enoughto use the same tactics Ivo had used on her. Because she couldn’t lose. She mustn’t lose. No matter how tempting the thought of his lips on her skin was, she suspected he would not be satisfied with something as tame as a kiss on the cheek. She also suspected she might feel the same.
Olivia leaned over the table beside him, so close she could smell clean, laundered clothing and his vanilla pomade. A curl of her dark hair fell forward and brushed his hand. His cue slid off the ball, sending it awry.
“Are you sure you had the angle right?” she whispered.
He turned his head, and his gaze slid over her face, lingering on her eyes and mouth. His smile seemed to suggest things she knew were inappropriate, and her lips tingled. What would it feel like to have his lips brush against hers, to have his hands cup her face so that he could deepen their kiss?
Her imaginings were vivid, making her quite breathless as she moved away and took up her cue once more. But she was having difficulty concentrating, strongly aware of him as he moved about the table, the warm male scent of him tantalizing whenever he stepped closer. He was dangerous, but despite knowing the consequences, she could not seem to help taking the risk.
They were halfway through the match. She already knew she was going to lose when the door opened without warning. Miss Vivienne Tremeer stood staring at her, and at her shoulder was Gabriel. It didn’t occur to her then to wonder why Gabriel was alone with Vivienne, something that was as socially unacceptable as Olivia being alone with Ivo, because Gabriel’s face turned white with anger, and she forgot everything else.
The next few moments were intense and uncomfortable. Ivo tried to take the blame, but it was no good. No onewas listening. Gabriel was gritting his teeth. “Come with me,” he said, holding out his arm. She could hardly refuse, even though she wanted to. She let him lead her away from her stupidity. That was when he told her that Northam was probably engaged to Vivienne’s cousin, Lady Annette, and while she was struggling to grasp that confusing and disappointing information, they reached the room where all the other guests had been listening to the soprano.
Only to find the music had paused. With nothing else to entertain them, the room as one turned and stared. Vivienne’s aunt rose to her feet and positively glared. Olivia wanted to run away—she was no longer feeling brave—but Gabriel led her back to her seat, where she sat with her back stiff and her eyes fixed to the front. When he squeezed her hand, a kind gesture she did not deserve, she had to blink back tears of mortification.
After that, the evening was a blur. Whispers and sneers as supper was served at the end of the performance. Contemptuous glances as guests congregated in groups, even though Ivo and Olivia were now at opposite ends of the room. The Viscountess Monteith, Vivienne’s aunt, was busy telling all who would listen that Northam and Olivia had broken her daughter’s heart… at least that was what Olivia imagined she was saying. Someone tittered as Olivia walked by, and when she turned her head, startled, the person showed her their back.
Again, Ivo came to apologize. His fair hair looked as if he’d been running his hands through it, and his face was pale and set.
“My apologies,” he said in a voice loud enough to be heard by those who were listening. “Completely my fault, Lady Olivia.” Then, lowering his voice for her alone, “I promise I will fix this.”
She did not answer him. The evening had turned into a disaster, and it felt as if her faux pas had locked her out of the society she had so longed to enter.
Olivia barely noticed saying goodbye to the Elphinstones, or Gabriel handing her into the coach for the journey home. It wasn’t until he spoke that some of her shock wore off.
“Olivia,” he sighed. “You have worked so hard. You are beginning to find your place in society. It may not be what you wanted, God knows it isn’t what I want, but I thought you were coming to terms with it. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, or was I wrong?”
