Page 10 of It's All About the Duke
Before she could scream, move, or even draw a breath, she felt the duke’s fingers touching her bare skin. She couldn’t have been more surprised, more intrigued, more fully engaged if his lips had actually been on hers instead of his warm touch under her chin. He wasn’t looking at her face but on his task at her neck.
She should have been frightened, but it wasn’t fear she felt. It was something else.
Something far more worrisome.
It was attraction.
Inexplicable sensations stirred restlessly inside her. She didn’t know exactly what was happening. He wasn’t choking her, but she couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t hurting her, but she trembled. She wasn’t in pain, yet she had the most intense yearning and urgency inside herself for something she couldn’t describe.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, unable to look up at him.
“Kissing you deeply, madly, and thoroughly,” he mumbled and continued with his undertaking.
“What?” Her gaze flew up to his face.
He smiled down so innocently at her that for a spark of a second she thought he might be serious.
“That’s ridiculous,” she said, reclaiming her good sense. “How can you say something like that? It’s so outrageously untrue. You’re doing no such thing and you know it. You aren’t kissing me. You’re untying the knot in my ribbon, which is highly inappropriate.”
He centered his attention on his job at hand again. “If you knew what I was doing, then why did you ask?”
She didn’t know. How could she think properly when the duke was this close to her? The tips of his fingers touching her. She had to say something. How could she not react to him in some way? The sensations she was having with him so near were completely new to her.
“I suppose I meant why you are doing it?” she managed to say without flinching.
He worked intensely. “So you won’t strangle yourself further with all your fretting.”
“Oh, you are impossible. I’m not fretting.”
“You are, but perhaps you had reason to.”
“I believe I did, but I refrained from doing so.”
“I suppose it could have been all your talking that caused the knot to tighten.”
“You make unbelievable statements, Your Grace. My talking didn’t cause the knot to worsen, either. In fact, it hasn’t.” Her last statement was probably an exaggeration, but she’d said it and wasn’t going to take it back.
“All I know, Miss Fast, is that you keep pulling on it and it’s chafing a red mark on your skin.”
She tried to lean away.
“Hold still,” he insisted. “And quiet for now would be appreciated, too. I almost have it, and then you’ll be able to breathe properly.”
Marlena lowered her eyes. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to breathe properly again after his touch. She kept her eyes cast downward, onto his wide chest and the brown quilted waistcoat he wore. The buttons were covered in the same velvet fabric. Unlike the tailored garment on most gentlemen, there were no puckers or wrinkles showing around the buttons. The seams were flat and tight, proving there wasn’t an ounce of extra weight around his middle.
She tried to be still, but it was impossible. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, held her arms by her side, put them in front of her, behind her, and across her chest. The duke was just asking too much of her to be still. Didn’t he know she’d never had a man stand so close to her? And certainly not for such a lengthy time. If he took much longer she’d probably find herself doing something as dreadfully inappropriate as he was doing such as trying to refashion the rumpled bow in his neckcloth.
When at last his hands stilled, Marlena lifted her lashes again. Their eyes met. An unnatural hush settled between them, but she didn’t know what to say. It was as if suddenly words weren’t necessary.
Her hat dropped to the floor behind her but his fingers remained still, warm, and pleasant against her skin. She didn’t know why he wasn’t moving away.
Why she wasn’t.
As when he’d touched her cheek with his handkerchief, a now familiar prickle of awareness shuddered through her. It was intriguing, welcoming. And for reasons she didn’t begin to understand she wanted to savor it. She wanted more of it. Though he was a danger to herbecause of her writings, something about him fascinated her. Reason and common sense were nowhere to be found. Anticipation for something she couldn’t define with words ran rampant inside her. She couldn’t stop whatever it was happening between them.
The duke’s warm fingers slid around her neck and cupped her nape. His face moved closer to hers. His lashes lowered over his eyes. A shiver tingled over her. Instinctively, her gaze dropped to his lips, and she lifted her chin a little higher.
“Marlena, look what I just picked up for us to enjoy.”
