Page 49 of The Duke Meets His Match

She did have a past. “That is precisely the point. We know little about each other beyond the basics.” Had she not discovered what she had about Lord Frome when she had, she might now be married to a rake and a wastrel.

She had been twenty-one and in love.

“Did you love her?” Susan asked.

His face gave nothing away. “It was years ago.”

“I know. Did you love her?”

“Did you love him?” he replied.

That took Susan aback. “How—?”

“Didyou?” he asked again, interrupting her question.

Had James said something to him? He must have. “I pride myself on being an excellent judge of character,” she said, “but I will concede that there was a brief moment in time when I allowed my heart to rule my head.”

“You did, then,” he said, “love him.”

“You’re confident about that, are you?” she shot back. “Go ahead, then—tell me all you know about me, since you are able to draw conclusions about my innermost thoughts so easily.” She tried to pull her hand away from his, but he wouldn’t let it go. He raised it to his lips instead and pressed a kiss on her fingers.Blasthim.

“I know you are the daughter of a viscount and come from a large family that adores you, as a recent encounter with your brother demonstrated clearly,” he said. “I know you are clever and have a keen desire to improve your mind,for you were sequestered in a library the first time I saw you. I know you arepassionate in your opinions; I have witnessed it on multiple occasions. I believe you are a passionate person in all respects, although I think a part of that passion has been carefully hidden away.”

He drew closer to her, and Susan’s breath caught. His gaze coursed over herface. “I know you have gray eyes that can appear as stormy clouds or flash like swords of steel. You have a face that expresses everything you think or feel, you know—not that you are loath to speak the words that go along with the expressions.”

“I do have a modicum of discretion, you know,” she muttered, hardly able to think with his face so close to hers. Her fingers itched to touch his clean-shaven chin and discover how it felt.

He smiled slightly, and Susan swallowed and tried to maintain her ground in the discussion they were supposed to be having. He was distracting her from the subject, which was that they didn’t know—

His free arm slipped around her shoulders, and he released her hand so he could run a forefinger along one of her eyebrows. “Your brows are furrowed again. You do that frequently, I’ve noticed.” That same forefinger then traced its way along her forehead and began winding itself around one of her curls. She couldn’t move.

His eyes were half closed as he gazed at her. “I have never seen a woman with such a glorious abundance of curls before,” he said. “What a gift from God. I imagine when they are freed from their pins, they make a breathtaking sight. I cannot comprehend why you took such efforts to hide them. You hide many things, Miss Jennings.”

He was but a breath away from her now, and Susan felt her defenses failing her. She could remember the sensation of his lips on hers, the giving, the taking, the yielding. She had thought herself contented to be in her world. She had stillbeen able to refuse his proposal afterward. She had not lost her heart to him,despite his kisses.

She had told him a marriage must be built on more than kisses. And so he had come here today at her request, because of her concerns. It wasn’t enough, but perhaps it was a gesture of something more.

“I know we do not know enough about each other,” he said softly. “But I do know there is a fire that burns between us and that you know it as well as I do. And that fire gives me hope.”

Susan knew her resolve to stay strong was weakening further. If only ...

“Is it enough?” she asked, clinging to what resolve she had remaining.

“No,” he murmured. “But it can be a beginning.” And then he took her mouth with his own.

She didn’t, couldn’t resist. She welcomed his kisses and then gave herselfpermission to kiss him back. The smooth skin she’d been yearning to touch wasmasculine and delicious against her skin in contrast to his instructivelips that caressed hers and then explored her vulnerable throat and nipped at her earlobes. Her hands slid inside his coat to cling to his back, holding him near her, drawing him closer ... She simply let herself feel. Time and place evaporated from existence. Her sole awareness was of him.

At length, he stroked his fingers across her cheek and raised his head to look into her eyes. He was silent; his breathing was labored, much as hers was.

“No,” she gasped and hungrily pulled him back to her.

“Ahh,” he sighed, chuckling before his eyes darkened with passion once again. “Yes.” He took her lips with his own once more.

It was so gloriously empowering to know that she, the dusty spinster on a shelf, had this effect on him, this attractive, sought-after man. But he had power over her too, and she couldn’t deny it anymore.

At length, he drew away again. “Dear Susan, I fear we will anticipate ourwedding night at this rate, so I must refrain from any more of your kisses,although it grieves me sorely to say so.”

Susan was unsure what to do or say next, having rarely been in this situationbefore. Lord Frome had—She would not think of Lord Frome and spoil thismoment with George.

“What is it?” he asked, looking concerned.

She smiled. “It was nothing. Anyway, the thought has fled.” She had thought of him as George, and he had called her Susan.Dear Susan.

He studied her closely until he appeared satisfied. “If you say so; I will trust you in that regard. Now, while we are on extraordinarily amiable terms, let us plan the remainder of the week and what needs to be done between now and our wedding day so that you may feel the happy bride.”

Susan’s nose began to tingle at his words, and she told herself emphatically she would not allow the tingling to progress to tears. But it was truly the firsttime he had directed any of these plans towardherhappiness. She hoped hemeant those words.

Hope. Hope was a beginning. He had said so himself.

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