Page 45 of A Duke But No Gentleman
She blocked the doorway.“Tristan, this is not my father’s house,” she said, gazing over her shoulder at him.
“No, it is mine,” he said as he placed his hand on her back to nudge her down the steps.When she remained speechless, he felt the need to clarify.“My private residence.”
This was the one place he refused to share with any of his lovers.Tristan was too intoxicated to question the reason why he wanted to bring her to his home.Make love to her in his bed.
Tristan quietly accepted that he craved her—her smiles, her touch, the sound of her voice, and the way she looked at him.He needed her in his life.It was more than he offered any of his former lovers, and he prayed it was enough for Imogene.
***
Anticipation thrummed through her as she stepped through the front door and into the front hall of the Duke of Blackbern’s town house.Imogene had already deduced that he valued his privacy.She had learned firsthand that he preferred to entertain his guests in his mother’s old house.Most of the interior was cast in shadow, but what the glass lanterns mounted on the mahogany-and-rosewood staircase revealed hinted at the wealth and grandeur that she was certain he took for granted.
“Are you planning to give me a tour?”she teased, when they crossed the alabaster marble floor worthy of a Renaissance palazzo.
“Another time when I can show it off properly,” he replied, brushing a light kiss against her lips.Instead of pulling away, he captured the delicate curve of her jaw with his large hand.His blue-gray eyes met hers, and his expression was both tender and vulnerable.“You are so incredibly beautiful.There are times I feel unworthy to touch you.”He stepped away, allowing his fingers to trace the line of her jaw before his hand fell to his side.“It’s too late.I cannot fight it—nor do I wish to any longer.”
Imogene sensed that the brandy or wine he had imbibed before he approached her this evening was ruling Tristan’s tongue.“What are you fighting?”
The duke responded with a careless shrug.“You… and me.Fate.Does it matter?I have surrendered.”
Imogene laughed at the outrageous comment.She doubted her companion yielded to anything or anyone.“Now I know you are drunk.You are speaking nonsense.”
She gasped when Tristan knelt, his knees pressed into the unforgiving marble floor.His hat tumbled to the floor as he grasped her hips and pulled her closer.He pressed his cheek against her stomach.“I may have had too much wine, but my thoughts have never been sharper.”
“About what?”
“About you, Imogene.All I can think about is you.Thoughts of you consume me.”Tristan held her tighter and sighed.“The poets would call it love.”
Imogene held her breath as she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder.Tristan thought he was in love with her?He did not seem particularly thrilled by the prospect.“Since you are not a poet, what do you call it?”
Tristan pulled back so he could meet her steady gaze.His lips parted as if he intended to explain his feelings for her.Instead, he shook his head and said, “I prefer to show you.”
With more grace than a gentleman in his inebriated state should have had, he stood and took her by the hand.“Come.”
Imogene placed her foot on the first step and hesitated.“The hour is late.”
“It is,” he readily agreed.“Too late for both of us.”
She shook her head.Although she was no longer a virgin, she lacked the sophistication and experience of being a man’s lover.“Your servants—”
“No one will disturb us.Everyone has retired for the evening.”Comprehending her unspoken worries, the tension in his stance eased.“My servants are loyal and discreet.I promise, no one will speak of your visit.You have my word on it.”
Tristan turned and she followed him up the staircase, the glass lanterns lighting their path.
“And what of my family?”she whispered, fearing her voice would carry.
“You will be home before your father summons the watch,” he replied with his usual confidence.
As they climbed the stairs in silence, Imogene mused that it might have been more romantic if Tristan had swept her into his arms and carried her to his bedchamber.The thought made a lovely picture in her head, but she was a practical creature.In this dark interior, they would have more than likely stumbled and broken their necks.
Perishing in the Duke of Blackbern’s town house would have been difficult to explain away.
“What is so amusing?”
Before she could respond, he opened a door and pulled her into one of the bedchambers.
“A fanciful thought,” she said dismissively.Imogene remained near the door while Tristan strode to one of the unseen tables to light a candle.“Such an impressive staircase seemed to demand a more romantic ascension, do you not agree?”
The candlewick flared and illuminated the duke.
