Sins of a Duke(8)

“That is the yellow rose,” she offered into the silence. “It symbolizes both infidelity and friendship.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Indeed.”

“Hmm. It is startling what one can learn when one has an inordinate amount of free time on one’s hands.”

“And why is it you have such an appalling amount of idle time, Miss Hastings?”

She quickly glanced at him, and saw only simple curiosity…along with something else. Interest, perhaps?

Her breath caught as he gently detached one of Lady Lawrence’s white roses with a pair of clippers left on the table and handed it to her.

“And what does this one symbolize?” he asked with a disarming smile.

“Purity.”

“Ahh, innocence.”

Her heart gave a jolt as he cupped her chin, his thumb stroking her lower lip. Her mouth parted slightly, and shock flared through her when he dipped his thumb briefly between her lips. Inexplicable heat curled in her stomach when he removed his thumb and put it in his mouth. Was he tasting her? She had the overwhelming urge to feel his lips pressed against hers.

“Do you intend to kiss me?” she whispered.

He dropped his hand in obvious reluctance. “No.”

She squelched her acute disappointment. “Why not?”

“You are innocent.”

She furrowed her brows. “I fail to see how they are related.”

His low chuckle rasped over her. He stepped back, putting space between them. She moved forward, wanting to maintain their closeness. It was as if the heat of his vitality spread out and warmed her deep inside where she had felt numb for so long.

“Don’t you want to kiss me?” Did he find her unappealing? The thought pained her.

His deep wariness returned. “Most young ladies would not be so eager to kiss a stranger. You are in desperate need of a chaperone,” he said in a gentle tone that made her even more flustered.

Still, pleasure suffused her that the reason for his reluctance was not for lack of attraction. She could not hold back the radiance of her smile. “I am pleased you are concerned about my reputation. But as hidden as we are in the conservatory, we are not in danger of being seen.”

She frowned in confusion when the heat fled from his eyes, and his gaze shuttered. He blasted an arctic chill, one that had her stepping away from him.

“Oh, dear. What have I said?”

“If your plan is to compromise me, I must warn you of abject failure. Many young ladies have tried such a ruse. As you can see, I am still a bachelor. I bid you good eve, Miss Hastings.”

Her eyes widened. “Good heavens. That was not my intention. I have no designs on your person. Well, I do…but not in the way you mean.”

He scalded her with an incredulous look. “You have designs on my person?”

Heat blazed through her. “I meant, I would like to be kissed, but I have no desire to trick you into marriage. Please do not worry about my reputation, as nothing is likely to ruin it further.” She did not need the look of amazement on his face to know how ridiculous her statement sounded.

She flushed in embarrassment and gripped the folds of her gown. She was being foolish. To be caught in any situation alone with a man known as the Lord of Sin, she would probably have to flee to America to escape the backlash, even if they were not actually touching. “Forgive me. Now it is my behavior that is brazen and inappropriate. I do not know what came over me.”

He laughed, looking more baffled than angry. “Forgiven.”

Back at the main house someone opened the terrace door, and louder laughter and music spilled into the night. The air felt suddenly alive with temptation as she stared into silver eyes that were no longer cold and distant. They were…filled with heat.

“Perhaps you would honor me with another waltz instead?” he asked.

She nodded mutely. He drew her into his arms, tightened them around her, and put his cheek to her hair. She was thrilled to her toes at the intimate caress.

He moved them gracefully across the stone floor, holding her far closer than appropriate. In their second dance together.

Now she truly never wanted the night to end.

She licked her dry lips, and his eyes followed her motion. Fascination grew within her at the slight color that flushed along his cheekbones. A thrill of anticipation vibrated along her spine. Was he thinking of kissing her?

He stopped abruptly, even though the strains of the waltz still filtered on the air. He muttered a curse, and she offered no protest when he drew her closer.

Her excitement roared as he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. She tipped up on her toes and wound her arms around his nape. The pressure on her lips was firm and sweet.

“Kiss me,” he ordered gently. The desire in his voice wrapped around her, luring her to madness.