Page 71 of Never Dare a Duke
“When you said my name, then you quickly pretended that you were concerned I would find you.”
Her face turned a riotous shade of red. “I…I was trying to get your attention, since I wasn’t succeeding with him.”
“Get my attention?” It was his turn to make her back up against the desk. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
He towered over her now, and her head tipped back as she looked up at him defiantly—helplessly. He could see the shadowy depths of her cleavage in the gown she’d chosen to wear—for Walton. Something in Christopher seemed to snap.
“You weren’t trying to get my attention,” he said harshly. He watched with disbelief as his hand curved around her waist, pulled her against him. And then he felt the warmth of those curves. “You were thinking of me. After all of your teasing and your kisses, if anyone is going to bed you, it’s going to be me.”
All she had time for was a gasp as he took her mouth with his. And then she moaned, and her trembling hand touched his chest, and Christopher was lost in a need he’d been resisting so much it felt like a lifetime of denial. Her brandy-flavored mouth succored him, lured him, made him forget who he’d worked so hard to be—and who she was. As his world began to crumble, none of it seemed to matter anymore.
Abigail reeled in shock and passion so potent she had no strength against it—no will to resist. Christopher’s fury and desire merged into a hot kiss that invaded her mouth, invaded her senses. For a moment, she forgot what she wanted in life. She existed only as his, and she would have done anything to crawl into his skin and be part of him.
Had she so lost herself?
She pushed away, and breathing hard, demanded, “Do you think I’m desperate enough to give myself to you so you’ll keep my secrets?”
Possessively, his hand molded over her hip, then up over her breast, making her mind reel with sinful pleasure.
He lowered his head and whispered against her mouth. “Aren’t you?”
The confidence in his tone made tears flood her eyes. She pushed past him and raced out the door, not thinking of caution until she was already in the corridor. If anyone had seen her…she thought, slowing to a brisk walk even as she shuddered with fear. She angrily dashed her tears away. Christopher had no concern for her. She knew he would let her suffer all manner of shame were they caught together.
Because she wasn’t of his class, he didn’t have to care what others thought.
Hadn’t he said he only slept with women not of Society? Was that why he’d propositioned her?
Even when she should have hated him for how he treated her, she could not, knowing his anger at her betrayal was driving his emotions, driving his revenge.
For a man who prided himself on control, she was making him lose it, and she hadn’t realized how sad that would make her feel.
In her room, Gwen was still waiting for her, and Abigail knew that she could not reveal everything. Numbly, she said she’d failed, that Christopher had tossed Walton off the property. But she could not confess what had happened between her and Christopher afterward.
“So did the duke say what would happen now?” Gwen asked hesitantly.
Abigail shook her head. “I don’t know. He made me promise to help him, but I failed. He might…do anything.” Though she worried about his promise to expose her, something made her pause. She could not believe that he would deliberately harm Gwen, much as he might have threatened to. No, this was all about punishing Abigail herself.
“I’ll stay by your side,” Gwen vowed. “He won’t dare—”
“No, you can’t! Remember, he knows nothing of your involvement. It will only make him realize that I’ve…lied to him about you.”
“You shouldn’t have done that, Abby.”
“I wanted to. You mean so much to me, Gwen. I want, no Ineedto protect you.”
“But I’m the one who suggested you come here! He should blame me!”
“I blame myself!” Abigail cried, then lowered her voice. “In the end, it is I who must pay for what I’ve done.”
“So you have given up? You are not going to write this story?”
“I don’t have a story to write! There is something here, and I don’t know what it is, but it has hurt him deeply. How can I add to that? And yet…I still want to discover his secrets. But I don’t know if I can cause him any more pain,” she added in a whisper.
Gwen was studying her with worry. “Oh, Abby, your feelings for him will only get you hurt.”
Abigail shrugged and tried to smile. “Then so be it. Right now, I am at his mercy.”
He was undone by her, Christopher thought morosely, staring into the mirror in his dressing room. He could not stop wanting her, could not stop his fury with her. Two journalists were ready to write a story about him, making him wonder if something new had happened. And all these emotions seemed roiled together in a way designed to make peace a distant memory.
