Page 72 of The Duke of Desire
“Oh, good.” Lady Lamberton pulled him along, and her friend took his other arm. If Ivy was looking at him, and he doubted she was, he certainly presented an ideal picture of philandering rake. Being seen that way had never bothered him before, but now he wanted to divorce himself from that reputation.
What was happening to him?
Ivy had changed him. He knew that. He just didn’t realize to what degree. He only knew that he wasn’t looking forward to a future liaison. And he wasn’t interested in Lady Lamberton’s advances.
He wanted the attention of a sharp-tongued, strong-willed companion who could shred him to pieces with one withering stare. Just as she could bring him to his knees every time she uttered his name.
When she’d called him West a short while ago, he’d nearly clasped her to him and kissed her. And moments before that, when he’d nearly pinned her against the tree, he’d longed to stroke her face and press his lips to hers, show her how much he’d missed her, how deeply he cared.
But he hadn’t, and it was likely he never would.
West finished his mindless promenade and wondered what hell he’d invited upon himself.
