Page 6 of In Need of a Duke
Very well. She stepped aside, lining up with the other dancers, taking the opportunity to appraise the man from head to toe. Unfortunately, he was magnificent. Irritating, that.
As the music started, she pulled her shoulders back and pretended ballrooms were nothing to be afraid of, or sinfully handsome dance partners. Maybe it was the gin in the lemonade, but when his hand reached for hers, the worries quieted, and her pulse thrummed in her ears.
“Too much time has passed, Lady Charlotte, and I need to tell you…”
They broke apart, and she ducked and weaved around another dance partner before her hand landed in his once more. Her eyes snapped to his as he inched closer, pressing their palms flat against one another.
“Tell me?” she whispered.
“How beautiful you are tonight. I needed to speak to you.”
Charlotte fought back a nervous giggle, suddenly distracted by the closeness of his mouth. “Imagine my surprise. I was attempting to hide.”
“Hmm, a wallflower. But I have bad news for you.”
She followed his lead, dancing down the line.
“What’s that, Your Grace?”
“You are impossible to miss.”
That she knew. She felt ridiculous in the yellow dress her mother had made for her. Was he teasing?
She remained silent, unsure of what to say. She was not as skilledwhen it came to flirtation as Kate or Lily. Plants were difficult to flirt with.
When the music ended, she searched for a path to flee from the ballroom, certain she needed some air to clear her head or calm her nerves. Anything to put some distance between herself and the duke.
Except he reached out for her hand, spinning her to face him in the middle of the crowded ballroom. “Have I said something wrong?”
She shook her head and licked her lips before meeting his piercing obsidian gaze. Her fingers tingled as if aching to steal another touch, and her stomach fluttered as thoughts tumbled around in her head.
It was surely the gin and not the duke addressing her as if she were the only one in the room. As if the rest of the din was miles away, and they were sharing a private moment over the breakfast table. Like their breakfast table. The familiarity of it was quite strange and altogether tempting.
“Would you like to dance again, Lady Charlotte?”
“I believe that wouldn’t be a wise decision, Your Grace. The others…”
“I don’t care for their opinions, only yours. And I know I don’t wish to let you go.”
His thumb gently traced circles over the back of her hand. Even from beneath kid gloves, she felt the heat of his caress.
Pure temptation.
“Your Grace?” she whispered, glancing up at him, her mouth parted. “I do not care for parties or balls or much for dancing.”
Charlotte was far too warm and too flustered by his attention. And yet, she couldn’t find another reason, especially when she surprised herself at the moment and wished to agree.
“Say yes.”
“I have a feeling you are not in the habit of hearing no. Whatever will you do if I refuse?”
The smallest grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, the effect devastating to Charlotte’s wavering resolve.
“Do you want me to beg?”
Charlotte laughed, glancing up at the ceiling, the gin finally settling into her limbs and making her feel as if she were floating.
“I’ve never seen a duke beg before. I wasn’t aware it was possible.”
