A spark of admiration lit within his eyes and warmed her. “I see.”
He said nothing further, but she was deeply curious about him, a curiosity she found irresistible, and Constance feared she would be unable to keep from prying. Why was he called Lord of Sin and why did he run a club? Did he have family? Was he looking for a wife? She tried to direct her errant thoughts and wondered if she should breach such intimate questions on such a short acquaintance. But then he had been bold enough to ask her several just now.
Constance checked her thoughts, as her mother was always berating her for being too forward and impulsive. She pulled her gaze from his tempting lips, wondering how to make him fall in love with her. Was it done by conversation? Or by stolen moments with shared kisses and embraces? She needed to discover its secrets and soon, for she could not abide the idea of marrying a supercilious prig like Lord Litchfield. An offer she feared Lord Radcliffe would soon accept, because she suspected her brothers were wholly in agreement that the only solution for her now was to marry.
…
Lucan fought to hold on to his self-control. Constance intrigued him against his own volition. He wanted very badly to draw her into his arms and devour her lips. He wanted her taste on his tongue, to inhale her scent of lavender and cinnamon, to see those emerald eyes darken with passion. Her freshness called to him and made him realize how often he dealt with the jaded, the depraved.
I have no friends; they have all turned from me.
Those had been the exact words Marissa had written in her letter to him. He should have felt some triumph that he was succeeding in his plan. After all, did he not want Calydon’s sister to feel the same pain his sister had endured? But the disillusion in Constance’s voice gutted him.
“I seem to have spoken a lot about me today, Lucan.” Her eyes sparkled teasingly. “I feel as if I know nothing about you, and I would wager you now know everything about me.”
His eyes traveled the length of her body. Not everything. Need coiled in his gut, and he directed his thoughts from the unbidden image of her splayed before him, those sensual hips arched provocatively as he sank his cock into what he knew would be sublime tightness and heat. He would take her slowly. He would savor every touch, every moan, and watch as her emerald eyes darkened with passion and mayhap love. Love? What the hell was wrong with him?
He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses firmer on his nose. “I am at your disposal, my lady, what would you like to know?”
“What is your favorite play?”
For some reason he expected the questions women normally hinted at. How rich was he really? Was he looking for a duchess? Had he really killed a man in the Orient? “I do not know. I have never been to a play.”
She gaped at him. “You have never been to the Theatre Royal? Or the Opera?”
She sounded genuinely appalled.
He flicked a glance at her chaperone, who sat only a few feet away. Several other couples and larger groups also picnicked, and he had seen more than a few looks of complete shock sent their way. Outright disapproval was stamped on many faces. Constance had studiously avoided them, concentrating all her attention on him.
He liked being the center of her sole regard.
Lucan had seen the need burning in her eyes to question his intentions, but she had decided to display some tact at last. He was impressed by her restraint. And that had not been the only need he’d seen in her eyes. The memory of their kiss was forever in her gaze, tempting him to behave foolishly. He gritted his teeth in annoyance as his cock jerked in his trousers with every move she made. He found himself enraptured by the way her luscious lips stretched around her food before biting into it. It did not seem as if the lady was trying to deliberately entice him. She was the complete opposite to the practiced partners in his other sexual encounters, her innocence and natural sensuality was refreshing.
“Well, Your Grace?” her strident demand forced him to focus.
Ah yes, she had been asking where he visited for enjoyment. He could hardly tell her about the hidden fight den Ainsley operated along with their gaming club. Lucan’s mind searched for somewhere with which she would be able to identify. “I have picnicked a few times at Hampstead Heath, several times in fact.” He did not reveal that this was over fifteen years ago, with his sister. The ghost of Marissa’s laughter and her softly lilted voice wafted through him. It is all so beautiful, Lucan. If only we could stay here forever.
“But you are a duke.”
“Am I?”
“Are you not?”
“I am just a regular man that inherited several crumbling estates and an inordinate amount of debts.” The estates were indeed in bad need of funds and repairs, but money was what he had in droves. He just needed to now find the interest to set the estates to rights.