Deepest Desires of a Wicked Duke(53)

“Someone did. Someone on this island.” Portia watched the Incognita’s beautiful green eyes.

And she saw it. The flash of fear. Of wariness.

“This wretched party is cursed,” Clarissa said carelessly. “First Sandhurst. Now this. I suppose we must all leave. I shall be glad to go.”

“We can’t leave. The sea is too high. We are all trapped here,” Portia pointed out.

“We can’t leave?” The Incognita bit her lip.

“Ooh, look who’s finally arrived.”

The bubbly voice belonged to Sadie, who came up beside Portia.

Portia looked to the door. Sinclair stood on the drawing room threshold, looking slightly disheveled. She was the reason for that. Her stomach had rumbled and he’d brought her down without bothering to shave. Or put on a cravat.

The hint of stubble along his chin was gorgeous. The glimpse of his bare throat in public rather shocking.

“At least we have such a strong, handsome duke to protect us,” Sadie cooed.

Then Portia felt a hand where it shouldn’t be. On her bottom.

It was Sadie, and startled Portia turned around. The most wickedly naughty look came into Sadie’s huge blue eyes.

Suddenly Sadie lunged forward. The girl’s bosom smacked Portia’s chest. Sadie’s soft, puckered lips came to hers. Slanting her head, Sadie kissed her. Her mouth was hot, tasted of sugared coffee, and her tongue was small and playful inside Portia’s mouth.

Portia stood, feet riveted to the floor. Sadie moaned, moaned softly in pleasure, and Portia blinked and suddenly all she could see was Sadie. The girl’s lashes trembled. Her lovely eyes filled with pleasure.

Sadie’s arms were around her. Then Sadie cupped Portia’s bottom and her left breast.

Portia made a squeak of shock. Heavens, a thrill went through her as Sadie caressed her.

Sinclair’s jaw dropped so precipitously she was amazed it didn’t hit the carpet. A pained look flashed over his handsome face. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. His dark eyes glowed as if lit by fire.

The desire in his expression stunned her. Then propriety hit.

She shouldn’t be doing such a thing—not in such circumstances. She tried to ease away from Sadie, but the girl stuck to her like treacle.

Oh. Blast.

She put her hands firmly on Sadie’s shoulders and pulled back. Sadie released her.

What did one say at such a moment? What was proper? “Thank you.”

Sadie laughed. “How polite. I do wonder who you are.”

Sadie was never going to find out.

Still laughing, Sadie turned and blew a kiss toward Sinclair as she twirled a golden curl around her fingers.

At once Portia understood. Sadie’s steamy, lusty kiss with her was a way of flirting with the duke.

Suddenly Sinclair was right in front of her. Hand on her elbow, he pulled Portia away from the others and led her to the window. His wide chest blocked her view of the room. Looking up, she saw the stubble—little bits close enough to his lips that if she kissed him, it would scratch and tickle.

His hair was in a tangle as he shoved it back with his hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was speaking to the women, Your Grace. Then Sadie kissed me.” Then, she couldn’t help it—he’d broken her heart ten years ago because he’d wanted wicked pleasures. Lightly, she added, “Kissing Sadie was rather nice.”

“It was?”

She’d meant to tease, but raw feeling strangled her. “It wasn’t as fiery, as intense, as powerful as kissing you. And for feeling that, I’m an utter fool. But unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to talk much to the women. The Wicked Widow—I mean, Lady Linley, fainted when I said Willoughby was dead.”

“Wicked Widow?”

Her cheeks burned. “A nickname. But I’m sure Lady Linley couldn’t be capable of killing Lord Willoughby.”

“If she snuck up on him and knocked him out, it could be possible. However, we’re going to search the island.”

“That is fine if it was someone from outside. But what if it was one of them? You will all be out there—” Her imagination quickly supplied the frightening image. Sinclair searching along the cliff edge, then a figure stealing up and hitting him over the head—

The mere thought made her feel as desperate with fear as when children in her home got sick. “You can’t! You will be outside and vulnerable. It’s too dangerous.”

“We’ll go in pairs.”

“And you might be paired with a murderer. I’ll go with you again. With the fireplace poker.”

“Por—my dear, I don’t think you and your fireplace poker could do more than I.”

“You would be surprised.”