Page 64 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

“A fair number of times.”

“It is a pleasant place.”

“Indeed.”

Her arm firmly in his grip, he veered left and onto another narrower path. The entrance to this one was scarcely visible among the bushes. Cecelia began to suspect that Prince Karl had explored this route in advance. The area was deserted. “We must go back to the others,” she said, pulling away.

He pivoted, grabbed, and then she was in his arms. Cecelia looked up, startled, and he captured her lips with his own. It all seemed like a much-practiced move.

His kiss was hard, insistent. His hands on her waist and back pressed her against him. He was very strong.

For a surprised instant, Cecelia didn’t move. Prince Karl’s kiss probed and demanded. His grip seemed designed to crush and subdue. It was the opposite of James’s embrace in every way. Most particularly, he did not arouse her. She felt merely mauled.

Cecelia shrank back and pushed firmly against the prince’s chest. He resisted. She shoved harder, several times, until he released her, and she could step away. “I’m sorry, Prince Karl. I hope I have not roused false expectations. I can’t marry you.”

“Marry?” He sounded puzzled.

This pathway was dim. The nearest lamp didn’t illuminate his expression. Cecelia frowned.

“You presume, Miss Vainsmede,” he continued.

“I…what?”

“There can be no question of marriage betweenus. I shall wed a lady chosen by my father to make a useful alliance. Naturally. That is the duty of a prince.”

His patronizing tone was offensive. “You have been courting me,” Cecelia pointed out.

“I have signaled my interest in a connection,” he said, as if correcting an erring student.

“Connection?” Society had certainly considered him a candidate for her hand. They had been a target for matrimonial gossip. She hadn’t imagined it.

“Anintimateconnection. A pleasant dalliance while I am here in England.” He reached out and moved closer. She stepped away.

“I cannot conceive why you would suggest such a thing.” She started back along the path and caught her skirts on a protruding bush. The light really was dim here. The sooner she escaped the better.

“Come, come, Miss Vainsmede. Cecelia.”

His use of her name was meant to be caressing. She found it presumptuous.

“You are no schoolroom miss,” the prince went on. “You are past the age of silly romantics. You are a free thinker. We met at Lady Tate’s house, after all. You attend balls alone.”

Once, Cecelia nearly replied. One very much regretted time. But she merely jerked her gown free and moved on, fairly certain she’d torn the lace at the hem.

“You live with a lax chaperone, by your own contriving I have no doubt, so that your movements are free.”

Cecelia stopped and turned to face him. “Have you been asking questions about me?”

“It is a sign of my interest,” Prince Karl answered, as if he thought this was a compliment. “You are ideal for my purposes. As well as lovely, of course.”

“Your purposes!”

“And your own,” he said in a smug voice that was worse than patronizing.

“My…”

“You enjoyed the kiss,” he said. Moving with unexpected speed, he slipped an arm around her again. “We are alone here. There is no need to be coy. I can fulfill all the desires you have been forced to deny. And show you passion you have never imagined.”

She peeled his arm off and moved on. “I am never coy. You have made an error.”

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